Well, the painful period has begun. My title is the list of pain meds I take to take the edge off. Once I laughed until I cried as I thought of the medical adage "stay ahead of the pain" like it's a relay race. If you can just hand off once things start getting a little weird, then you might not suffer the stuff that renders you mute and paralyzed.
So, I'm working on staying ahead of the pain. Tomorrow I start my testosterone. My (male) surgeon says I should become more rational, logical and less likely to commit a homicide than I was on progesterone. We shall see, i reserve judgement on that. I may also start growing a beard. We shall also see about that.
Despite being notoriously slow on the uptake, I have managed to oufit my myspace page and my blog with jukeboxes. I just love reading with good music in the background. I hpe it makes the reading better, perhaps lends a certain je ne sais quoi to my words that make them more compelling or funny or interesting, like, maybe you'll read for 10 seconds instead of 4.5 (cause I know you landed on this page by mistake).
The painkillers also lower my inhibitions and they open doors in my memory that I can usually ignore or keep closed by a chair propped up against the doorhandle. Life is less messy without all those errant memories. A few minutes ago I remembered my plans to kill myself if my surgeon at Stanford turned out to be as big an asshole as every other doctor I'd met with to find out what the frick was wrong with me was.
Needless to say, he wasn't. I was going to jump off the golden gate bridge, it was very popular among the war protesters at the time and it was pretty much a sure-fire way to get life out of the way. Initially I planned to drive off the bridge, but since that had become popular as well, they'd started constructing these concrete barriers and i figured i would drive into one, ruin my face, break my sternum and still be screwed six ways to sunday.
My books on endometriosis say feeling hopeless, anxious, fearful and suicidal are perfectly normal, so I am reassured. Plus, I haven't made any attempts on my own life in heck...not concious ones at least. I had lunch the other day with a really beautiful woman with whom I have business interests and I was just chattering on and on about the surgery and the journey and she listened, she was a great listener and she knew of my surgeon and she knew enough about my disease to be a good listener. And at the end of the conversation I remarked on her license plate and she told me her husband had bone cancer. And she had already remarked how you can look at a person and judge them and never know what they are living, enduring or have lived through.
It made me think of all the people I've worked with over the years who when i made a comment like "my bad is murdering me" would tell me I was too young to have any serious medical problems. Proved them wrong, i did. I knew a girl, a woman who was at least 5 years my senior a couple of years ago who spent her childhood battling leukemia. How many people are walking around on the sidewalks with lacerations to their spirits that have maybe healed over but the scar tissue is at least as big as milwaukee? I try to be a good person in the world, when people get angry with me I'd rather take the emotional blows because i figure they might have some demon that makes them take aim at whoever seems least likely to understand their pain and anguish.
We all just want someone to see us. Even if they can't tell us it will be alright, we want someone to recognize the personal and individual hell we are suffering. I'm no saint and I will drill someone a new asshole if I'm in the right, or wrong, frame of mind, but generally, I like to be the good-time girl, life kicks the shit out of us enough without my adding to the fray.
ah, i'm ahead of the pain again. time to get some work done. love.
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