Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Imagine a helium filled balloon full of air, and then the pressure as you slowly release the balloon’s contents, that tension in the hiss, as air escapes, finding freedom tentative, the balloon needing the air to sustain, and yet the air panting slowly, as it finds its way to safety. Now imagine me as the balloon, and the air that escapes, the same air I breathe, as the shallowness of breaths become a slow hiss, my heart pounding harder, and my mind re-minding me that I need to slow down, breathe more deeply, take care of me, instead of the ripping tension that the shallowness creates. I glide through these internal terrains, smokes and mirrors everywhere, but when I look at my own reflection, inside, there are no lies, just a short dose of panic and reality, and a reminder that this too shall pass. It will. I swear it will.

Today was better than the previous. I thought it would be a clear one for me, but my roommate had an unexpected case of gout, a painful condition where uric acid crystalizes, causing the joints in your foot or knee to swell with painful irritation and fluid, that makes even putting on a sock sheer agony. And instead of staying within myself, I seek to comfort and nurture, because I am good at that sometimes when it comes to others, and not so good at it when I need to be gentle with me. Being gentle with me. I laugh even now. What’s that??? How do you do that? And so, I dart from m Mom’s condo, to my roommate across the city, picking up a prescription for him along the way, loaning some pain medication with strict directions on how to take it, and putting in a medicet, making him promise to call his doctor and arrange for some medication of his own. And Will, my roommate, is always a delight, always so kind and grateful. We talk. and then I run out to pick up things. What can he eat? Tomato soup, bread, bananas. What else does he need? Epsom salts (he has never heard of this), water, juice, some light reading. And then I run to my doctor to pick my own prescription to replace the one I gave to him.

And then I come back to my Mom’s condo, and for those who do not know, she is blind and can’t walk well, and again, I perform. I perform because I can. and after dinner and throughout, I watch what she wants on tv, spend time with her, because next week she goes back to Michigan, and though it will be hard to say goodbye, it will also be a partial relief. And of course, I come back to me, still panting, the hissing wearing me out. And I have not paid attention all that well, though I am getting better. Better today yes. Tomorrow is tomorrow. The nights, of course, are the worst. The fighting in my sleep to stay asleep, the feelings, the dreams, and oh well. Tomorrow is tomorrow, and though I write it all here. I have hope. I do. I have so much hope. I am still panting a little, hissing some, but I am starting to relax, and not hold my breath, and feel grateful that I can write any of this madness down at all. And tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow.

Thanks Everyone. I truly am grateful! And it must be hard for those who do not know my goofy, fun side. But it’s there. It is.

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