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Monday, February 4, 2013

How Much to Share?


My sister came for a visit today, bringing with her a yummy scone from a place called Pomegranate.   I heard lovely stories about her incredible daughters and loving, (younger) husband.  I wish we lived closer so we could do it more often but I sure appreciate what I do get!  My brother has been down with the flu or some awful upper respiratory sickness.  He is supposed to go back to Minneapolis to visit our dad this week, so I told him to stay home and get well and visit me on his return.

What’s hardest for me is knowing how much to share with my family regarding both my symptoms and my feelings about my ever degrading health.  I used to hold back because they would try and “fix” it, as they all feel so badly about it.  It’s not that now.  They know it can’t be fixed, they know that all I need is an ear on occasion.  I mean, I have my blog and they could be reading it, I really don’t know.  I share what I do on this blog because other people are going through the same thing and it’s good to know you aren’t alone.  Of course, we don’t want other people hurting; it’s not like we read it and think “Yea!  Other people are in agony!” Being isolated physically is one thing; feeling isolated from the world because we think we are the only one with this or that ailment is quite another.  Before the Internet, I’m sure it was a million times harder emotionally.  But I digress.

When I feel like the men on the chessboard have stood up and are telling me where to go, or feel like I’ve eaten some kind of mushroom and my mind is moving low,, when logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead and the white knight is talking backwards, and the red queen is “off with her head”, it’s then, that I have trouble remembering what the dormouse said (feed your head).  Had to borrow a little from “White Rabbit” there, sorry.

Anyway, when I feel this way (last paragraph) I always start questioning whether or not it’s worth it.  Any of it.  My sister and I actually laughed about that today.  Laughed.  It felt good.  I was telling her if this is all for naught, if after we die, that’s it….why the hell did I stick around in demonic, uncontrollable, unstoppable pain coupled with horrific gastro-intestinal problems, hearing loss, breast cancer, acelasia and a thousand other issues, the most expensive being teeth issues which I don’t even want to bother with, AND my expenses have gotten so out of hand because the cost of keeping Pam has gone up by about $40 a month, my cable, which is minimal had gone up by $30 and will do so again in six months (my only extravagance and I don’t even watch the damn thing….but you need to”bundle” to get cheap phone and Internet rates).

Anyway, that’s the catch 22, isn’t it?  There would be no ‘someone” to yell at when it’s over.  Just blackness.  I mean, how many of us remember what it was like before we got here?  Raise your hands….I see one guy in the back….oh wait, he’s wearing an aluminum foil hat of some sort, never mind.   What’s the point?  No really, what’s the point?  Takers?

Oh hell, both my sister and I have had too many spiritual experiences to know that’s not true.  She thought she was dead when her car spun out of control on the Interstate one winter; she said everything slowed down, she was at peace, she saw her first husband (deceased) and felt the presence of G-d.  And you all know about my experiences….or some of them.  If not, there here somewhere.  You can tell by the titles.

I’m tired now.  Must drum.

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