Wednesday, October 12, 2011

My body and I just have different needs.

Wow, it's been long enough between posts, I could almost imagine you missed me. What's up with you?

Here's all my down-low:

So, my eldest son, who is fourteen, saved up all this money for his own I Pad and was all "How cool is that? My son works hard, saves money, defers gratification, keeps a goal in mind, gets what he wants. He must have an excellent mother. I can totally see Harvard in his future."

Fast forward two weeks. I now live with Smeagol and his Precious.

I think I may have finally convinced my child that just because he purchases something with his very own money using his very own debit card does not mean that he can use it at all hours, for as long as he wants, doing whatever the fuck he wants. I had to be a bit of an asshole about this, but there it is. We have never owned a gaming system. We don't have cable. We are not "those kind of people". Hence, I am DAMNED if my child is going to spend all of his free hours playing Fruit Ninja. If he wanted to learn how to program, or read i Books, I'd be somewhat more permissive about screen time (since it would allow me to keep looking good as a parent to myself).

In other news, I have been spending a  lot of time feeling like crap. So much so that I am running out of things to write about, since most of my thoughts relate in some way to feeling like crap and I get tired of writing about it. I think if I could generate a large following of crap-feeling people, this might be OK. To everyone else, it may get dull. I will spice things up by swearing more.

And so on.

So, on Sunday, after church, I ended up in Urgent Care because I had chest pains. My chest pains were more Mike's problem. I was more concerned about the fact that my vision was making me feel like someone had slipped a half-hit of acid into my morning coffee. Lights were flashing, I had tunnel vision, an odd sensation causing various inert objects to appear to be peacefully moving, and the edges of everything were blurred. This is what is known to migraneurs as aura. A particularly acute aura accompanied by the real concern that I might fall over due to dizziness and lack of vigor. Urgent Care sent me to ER because they wanted to know if I was having a pulmonary embolism. Which I wasn't.

Chill, people.

Anyway, after spending hours patiently waiting and having my arms repeatedly poked due to my usual lack of usable veins, the doctor declared that I was not having a heart attack, stroke or embolism but that my liver enzymes and muscle enzymes were unusually high, and I had pleurisy (which sounds like a crude insult or a form of government). He let me know that I should see my regular doctor to find out what was wrong with my liver.

So, hi ho, hi ho and off to work I go this week. I was more or less fine yesterday (if your standards are appreciably low), but today I ended up feeling I was wearing those invisible psychedelic glasses again, so I went home early. I went later to the regular appointment I had with my doctor and got to tell him all about how I spent my weekend. He is a very good listener.

After he had listened, he said that the most likely cause of all of this fun is mononucleosis. Which is what you get at summer camp when you are thirteen and kiss the greasy boy with braces down by the canoes.

This is Mono. Kinda cute, huh?
Apparently, it is less usual but not totally impossible to get it at the age of thirty six, as well. So, here's hoping I have mono because all of the other things that would explain my problems are much less tolerable and longer lived. I donated six vials of blood to the medical laboratory, strictly for the purposes of advancing scientific inquiry you understand, and I get to have a liver and spleen ultrasound on Saturday because both of these organs are enlarged. Which, apparently, is totally how things go if you have Mono.

All of which leads me to the definite conclusion that it is time I broke up with my body. This sack of bones has got to go. Ever since it produced three wonderful children, all it's done is piss me off. It has gained fifteen pounds as a side effect of the medication that makes all the horrible, nasty pain go away. It has swollen lymph nodes, irritated organs, multiple chronic conditions, and it does NOT want to run!

My body and I just have different needs. I think we'd be happier living apart. (No, this is not a suicide note. I want a goddamn new body.) Kind of like a cylon.

So, anyway, if you see my body somewhere anytime soon, tell it go fuck off.


P.S. And tell my son to get the Hell off his I Pad and study his chemistry so we can visit him at Harvard. (If we visit there while he's attending NMSU, people are just gonna think we're lame.) And it's all about the public, people.

P.P.S.: UPDATE: This is FUCKING awesome! There is actually a symptom associated with Mono (and migraines) known as Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. How totally brilliant for me! I have been waiting for such a thing all my life. At least I can stop accusing my husband of dropping LSD into my coffee now. Wow, tracers!!!!!!


  1. You crack me up! I'm sorry that you're feeling bad. I MISS YOU AND YOUR FAMILY!!

  2. You can always make me smile. Now I can't wait to see what amazing things you write when feeling better. Sending healing thoughts your way! Let us know what you hear on Thursday.


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Faith in Ambiguity by Tara Adams is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License