Earth...that's one tough town

Feeling vulnerable

trigger alert for those averse to physical details (waving fondly to Chris)

I sat on the toilet this morning in tears. Sick of uncontrollable coughing and horrible diarrhea from the antibiotics, I was feeling pretty damn low. The diarrhea has been so terrible (even though I stopped taking the antibiotics) that I hadn’t even made it to the bathroom in time. I wisely had brought my phone with me because I don’t have enough voice to yell and can’t hear a response anyway. So I phoned poor Ernie at the other end of the house and he graciously arrived with the necessary supplies. I looked at him and said, “I hate my life.” He said he hated his too and then he kissed me and told me he loved me and I thought, well, hell, I think this is true love. So even coughing and sitting in my own stink, I acknowledge that I am lucky. He is the best.

I finally emerged and drank my hot tea which was now cool. Then I coughed up several small animals (I call it The Morning Harvest). I went back to the doctor yesterday. It’s always a pleasure to read the doctor’s notes later.

Obese and scarred. I mean, she’s not WRONG…

I’m starting prednisone and a different antibiotic which hopefully won’t kill me. My chest x-rays came back as abnormal but I don’t have an official take on that from the doctor yet. I can’t lie. This has been a rough couple of weeks, true love or no true love.

Oh, and I was pretty worn out by the time they did my chest x-ray. I had to take off my bra, no problem, but there was no way I was putting that damn thing back on so I shoved it inside the seat of Big Red (the walker) and put my blouse back on over my dress. I swayed back to Ernie in the waiting room only to find I only had one arm in my blouse. Am I 61 or 91?

I hate the nose whistling. I can plug my nose and stop breathing and yet still it whistles on. Is there some odd little troll dancing in my sinuses? Then for awhile I thought I might have a future in Mongolian throat singing.

There are so many different ways to be vulnerable (says the woman who just wrote about her diarrhea). My hearing is the teensiest bit better but I still can’t hear much. When we left for the doctor’s office I felt like I’d been imprisoned in my castle for far too long so it felt nice to be out. It’s strange being in public and not able to hear however. I was trying to describe the distortion of what I can hear to Ernie and I finally told him it was like taking the L in Chicago back in the day and they’d try to make some announcement but it was just fuzz and everybody would just shrug and ignore it. It makes me feel very vulnerable not hearing well and not being able to tell where sound is coming from. I already feel more vulnerable because of my mobility. It is just a little unnerving. As always, these things give me much empathy for those that struggle with these things every day.

However, given that I am complaining, I must be feeling a tiny bit better. Although, as I told Ernie earlier, you can tell I really feel miserable because I don’t even feel like going on a wander. At all. I know. I know. And I still can’t read and watching tv is not easy so I guess that’s why I’m on here whining. I know I’ll feel better soon. I will.

Life is one damn weird ride. Or, as David Olney sang, “Earth…that’s one tough town.”

God, I miss David Olney. He was indeed a contender.

And this my friends, is why I will never have a huge readership…because I go from Louis Sullivan to back roads to cooking to diarrhea to David Olney. Eh, what are you gonna do? Not be yourself?

Onward.