The storms caused a bit of flood in our basement. I was cleaning. Seems like all I ever do these days. Tons of papers had to be tossed away. I unboxed and reboxed many old artifacts. I wrapped memories in tissue paper and tucked them neatly into containers of packing peanuts. The pile for donation to charity was almost as large as the pile to send to the storage locker. Finally my life was coming together. I felt lighter and a bit more free.
I picked up a box to get to the child's rocking chair beneath it. Suddenly the bottom fell through and there was a thud. I stood there stunned for a moment. Then there was the pain. Like a flash. My father yelled down to me, "Are you okay?" I quickly sat down in the chair a few steps away. "I don't know," I replied with genuine uncertainty. The pain had subsided but I felt strange. I slid my shoe off and began pulling my sock off. Red trickled down my foot. "No, I'm not. Please bring ice now!" My brother stepped to my side and my father looked down. Instinctively I held my hand over my toe, guarding it from them. I couldn't feel the pain at the moment but I was sure it would come any minute. The great toe on my right foot took the brunt of the force from the sixteen pound bowling ball that had been in the water-logged box.
My brother helped me up two flights of stairs. I felt weak and a bit light headed. I made it to my bed and my father and mother quickly went to work on my foot. My brother held my hand and cracked jokes, that were actually quite funny, to keep me distracted. There was no way to tell if my toe was broken at the moment. There was too much blood. My pretty pedicure was ruined for sure. The least of my worries. The matrix of the nail, the very base under the cuticle was now exposed. The nail was still attached at the sides and a bit in the middle. My parents cleaned the wound and medicated me. I tried to stay calm and help. My body wouldn't stop shaking. Shock. I could tell you the pathophysiology of what was happening to me. In all the pain and commotion I managed to get my brother to take pictures. I know, I'm odd. It's okay.
That was Monday evening. I've been home since then with my foot elevated. I clean the wound twice a day. I still can't tolerate any weight on the foot. Tomorrow is a trip to urgent care. My boyfriend seems to think I should have gone the first night. I thought I'd be fine. The problem is, it's still bleeding. It's still swollen and we need to be sure it's not broken. I don't have health insurance. This isn't going to be cheap. There's sure to be X-rays and pain medication and all that. And they'll probably want to remove the nail. Did I mention it may not grow back considering the amount of damage done to the root? Do you think a press-on nail will look too ridiculous? Just when I was starting to get into the whole girly thing of wearing open toed shoes and pedicures and what-not!
Darvocet and crutches are my friends the past few days. In fact, I've just had some pain medication now. My head is starting to feel fuzzy and my toe is throbbing a little less. I'd share the photos but they're far too icky. I'm sure it would look worse if the nail hadn't been painted.
Seriously, I'm a walking - or hobbling- accident waiting to happen.
8.29.2007
8.21.2007
Things Are A Bit Messy
I haven't updated in quite some time. It's been a bit hectic and to be perfectly honest, I haven't had the energy. I don't really have wonderful cheery news. I don't have many nice things to say. By the rules my grandmother taught me I should, therefore, say nothing at all. Perhaps by purging my head of these thoughts I'll find peace and at the very least a moment of rest.
My ATT (Authorization To Test) has not arrived. I'm anxiously awaiting this silly piece of paper that is the key to the next step of my future. According to the website it could take up to four weeks for the letter to arrive. The few others I've spoken with received their letters within a week. It's been almost three weeks. Should I worry? Probably not but I do regardless. It's what I do best.
My father was hospitalized on Monday morning. He foolishly drove himself to the emergency room with severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, and fever. Why didn't he wake anyone up? No idea. I suppose it's a male way of thinking. He had a cholecystectomy (removal of the gallbladder) on Wednesday morning after the nephrologist, endocrinologist, and cardiologist cleared him for surgery. From what I hear his surgeon was wonderful. So much so in fact, Mum wants to invite him for dinner in hopes of marrying me off. Nevermind the fact I have a boyfriend. Poor Kevin. Looks like he has competition. My father came home Friday evening. He's off work for a week until his check-up. I'm sure all will be well. He just gave us a bit of scare.
I'm house/doggy/kitty sitting for a friend/coworker. It's a cute little house in Arlington Heights. She has two dogs and two cats. They're all adorable and have great personalities. I haven't slept with Ducky. There just isn't room. On average I have two animals with me. Not just with me but right on me. They are very loving animals. Except when the mailman comes. Then they turn into little hellhounds. Yesterday I came home from work ill. I curled up on the couch barely able to move, completely exhausted from the virus. The dogs curled up with me and kept me warm. Today I called in sick though I really shouldn't have. Paychecks are desperately needed but I really don't want to spread my germs around the office. I hate being blamed for the latest bug outbreak. If people washed their hands and covered their mouths the office wouldn't be half as sick as it has been. I digress. I stayed home and watched movies while napping on the couch. My boyfriend came over and took me to a movie and then spent some cuddle time with me on the couch. He's very attentive. He may not be a doctor but he knows how to keep me in line. Thanks to him, I now have a decent supply of tissues and cold medicine as well as vitamin water.
The past few days have been exceptionally difficult for numerous reasons. Deep wounds from the past have not completely healed. I've come to realize a few things about myself that I never really knew before. Perhaps I knew I just didn't really understand. The realization gave me a new perspective on my life and my relationships with people. I knew it was time I had to let someone close to me in a little further. It was time to let down the wall, to pull back the curtain and let him see me exactly as I am. He needed to know the past events that helped make me the person I am today. I've told the story to those closest to me many times before. I've even spoken in groups. Somehow this seemed different. I know the reaction I've had in the past hasn't always been favorable. Some pass judgment against me. Some blame me. And for some, it's too much for them to handle and our friendship ends there. He deserved to know the truth. No matter how awful it is. Our relationship could not progress without revealing this bit of information. This bit that seems to weigh a ton.
Three glasses of wine later I found the courage to open up to him. The anniversary of awful events was upon me and the recurring nightmares had begun earlier than usual. Sleepless nights and intrusive thoughts rob me of my happiness and energy. So I wear a mask. To protect others. Over the years I find more and more that people would rather live in their own happy worlds than face the truth. When they ask the question usually they don't really want the answer. The mask works well. But I can't ware the mask for him. He sees through it. He knows there's a problem.
I sat beside him after an hour of friendly chat. It's a blur now. I don't even know how it started. I just remember the tightness in my chest and the fast pounding of my heart. There was terror in his eyes. I hadn't even told him yet. He was expecting something awful. I tried to skip the details but it was clear some were needed. I slid to the floor beside him and gazed off into the corner. It's easier if I don't have to look into his eyes. I started from the beginning. My words stuck in my throat and I forced them out through tears. The whole thing played in my mind again like some awful snuff film. It took all my energy to stay in the present. My fingers wound around my chain and the sheets and whatever else I could lay my hands on just to keep me grounded in reality. He was silent. So silent I had wondered if he had stopped listening. At some point he slid down on the floor next to me and held my arm. The story was over. I felt empty and achy. He turned to me with red eyes and told me how he'd always be there for me though he was terrified. No amount of training ever really prepares you for this. It's one of those things you read in textbooks but never really think will happen. No one ever wants to think it will happen. But it does. Frequently. 1 in 3.
So finally more of me made sense. Things were more clear to him. For a moment I thought I was in the clear. I thought it had gone exceedingly well. That frightened me. There was no immediate reaction. I didn't know what to make of it. He asked me what we were to do. He asked me if I was ending our relationship. He said he couldn't stop me from leaving. And it hit me. He didn't want this. He didn't want to know. He wasn't ready for the truth. Somewhere I found strength. I don't know where. Through red puffy eyes and endless tears I forgave him. I told him it was okay, that I understood. I stood to go, looking for my keys but he stopped me. He spoke but I could not hear him. All I could hear were my thoughts, how foolish I had been to wait so long to tell him. I should have told him sooner rather than later. Why did I think this would work? The calm and clarity that I possessed seemed to balance the sheer panic in him. His words came tumbling out of his mouth so fast without any order. He held tightly to my hands. Together we worked it out. We talked. This was a first. I had never seen anything like it. His first inclination was to run. But he didn't. He sat with me and holding on to me for fear of losing me. He was different. I had underestimated him. The night ended with affection, support, and an understanding. It was a good start.
Not very eloquent. Not the best I've ever written. But I'll place some blame on the cold medicine and the congested head.
For now, I think I'll try to sleep. I pray for a dreamless sleep. One of rest. I pray to fight the demons some other night when I can breathe through both nostrils simultaneously, when my throat doesn't burn, and when my head doesn't feel like it weighs fifty pounds.
My ATT (Authorization To Test) has not arrived. I'm anxiously awaiting this silly piece of paper that is the key to the next step of my future. According to the website it could take up to four weeks for the letter to arrive. The few others I've spoken with received their letters within a week. It's been almost three weeks. Should I worry? Probably not but I do regardless. It's what I do best.
My father was hospitalized on Monday morning. He foolishly drove himself to the emergency room with severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, and fever. Why didn't he wake anyone up? No idea. I suppose it's a male way of thinking. He had a cholecystectomy (removal of the gallbladder) on Wednesday morning after the nephrologist, endocrinologist, and cardiologist cleared him for surgery. From what I hear his surgeon was wonderful. So much so in fact, Mum wants to invite him for dinner in hopes of marrying me off. Nevermind the fact I have a boyfriend. Poor Kevin. Looks like he has competition. My father came home Friday evening. He's off work for a week until his check-up. I'm sure all will be well. He just gave us a bit of scare.
I'm house/doggy/kitty sitting for a friend/coworker. It's a cute little house in Arlington Heights. She has two dogs and two cats. They're all adorable and have great personalities. I haven't slept with Ducky. There just isn't room. On average I have two animals with me. Not just with me but right on me. They are very loving animals. Except when the mailman comes. Then they turn into little hellhounds. Yesterday I came home from work ill. I curled up on the couch barely able to move, completely exhausted from the virus. The dogs curled up with me and kept me warm. Today I called in sick though I really shouldn't have. Paychecks are desperately needed but I really don't want to spread my germs around the office. I hate being blamed for the latest bug outbreak. If people washed their hands and covered their mouths the office wouldn't be half as sick as it has been. I digress. I stayed home and watched movies while napping on the couch. My boyfriend came over and took me to a movie and then spent some cuddle time with me on the couch. He's very attentive. He may not be a doctor but he knows how to keep me in line. Thanks to him, I now have a decent supply of tissues and cold medicine as well as vitamin water.
The past few days have been exceptionally difficult for numerous reasons. Deep wounds from the past have not completely healed. I've come to realize a few things about myself that I never really knew before. Perhaps I knew I just didn't really understand. The realization gave me a new perspective on my life and my relationships with people. I knew it was time I had to let someone close to me in a little further. It was time to let down the wall, to pull back the curtain and let him see me exactly as I am. He needed to know the past events that helped make me the person I am today. I've told the story to those closest to me many times before. I've even spoken in groups. Somehow this seemed different. I know the reaction I've had in the past hasn't always been favorable. Some pass judgment against me. Some blame me. And for some, it's too much for them to handle and our friendship ends there. He deserved to know the truth. No matter how awful it is. Our relationship could not progress without revealing this bit of information. This bit that seems to weigh a ton.
Three glasses of wine later I found the courage to open up to him. The anniversary of awful events was upon me and the recurring nightmares had begun earlier than usual. Sleepless nights and intrusive thoughts rob me of my happiness and energy. So I wear a mask. To protect others. Over the years I find more and more that people would rather live in their own happy worlds than face the truth. When they ask the question usually they don't really want the answer. The mask works well. But I can't ware the mask for him. He sees through it. He knows there's a problem.
I sat beside him after an hour of friendly chat. It's a blur now. I don't even know how it started. I just remember the tightness in my chest and the fast pounding of my heart. There was terror in his eyes. I hadn't even told him yet. He was expecting something awful. I tried to skip the details but it was clear some were needed. I slid to the floor beside him and gazed off into the corner. It's easier if I don't have to look into his eyes. I started from the beginning. My words stuck in my throat and I forced them out through tears. The whole thing played in my mind again like some awful snuff film. It took all my energy to stay in the present. My fingers wound around my chain and the sheets and whatever else I could lay my hands on just to keep me grounded in reality. He was silent. So silent I had wondered if he had stopped listening. At some point he slid down on the floor next to me and held my arm. The story was over. I felt empty and achy. He turned to me with red eyes and told me how he'd always be there for me though he was terrified. No amount of training ever really prepares you for this. It's one of those things you read in textbooks but never really think will happen. No one ever wants to think it will happen. But it does. Frequently. 1 in 3.
So finally more of me made sense. Things were more clear to him. For a moment I thought I was in the clear. I thought it had gone exceedingly well. That frightened me. There was no immediate reaction. I didn't know what to make of it. He asked me what we were to do. He asked me if I was ending our relationship. He said he couldn't stop me from leaving. And it hit me. He didn't want this. He didn't want to know. He wasn't ready for the truth. Somewhere I found strength. I don't know where. Through red puffy eyes and endless tears I forgave him. I told him it was okay, that I understood. I stood to go, looking for my keys but he stopped me. He spoke but I could not hear him. All I could hear were my thoughts, how foolish I had been to wait so long to tell him. I should have told him sooner rather than later. Why did I think this would work? The calm and clarity that I possessed seemed to balance the sheer panic in him. His words came tumbling out of his mouth so fast without any order. He held tightly to my hands. Together we worked it out. We talked. This was a first. I had never seen anything like it. His first inclination was to run. But he didn't. He sat with me and holding on to me for fear of losing me. He was different. I had underestimated him. The night ended with affection, support, and an understanding. It was a good start.
Not very eloquent. Not the best I've ever written. But I'll place some blame on the cold medicine and the congested head.
For now, I think I'll try to sleep. I pray for a dreamless sleep. One of rest. I pray to fight the demons some other night when I can breathe through both nostrils simultaneously, when my throat doesn't burn, and when my head doesn't feel like it weighs fifty pounds.
8.02.2007
Peanut Butter
Peanut butter... it's yummy, sticky, creamy or crunchy, and quite versatile. For some unknown reason when an answer fails me "peanut butter" is the first thing to pop in my head. GracieLou was kind enough to entertain me with a story not just involving but actually revolving around peanut butter. I thought I'd give it a go since she was such a good sport.
Sitting on the patio overlooking the lake she sipped her coffee, letting it spill slowly over her lips pooling on her tongue. She savored the rich flavor for a long moment before finally swallowing. Closing her eyes, she slid back in her chair letting her shoulders relax. The early morning was her favorite time of day. It was perfectly silent save for the sounds of nature greeting the day.
In the distance she heard the high pitched chatter of a young woman. Opening her eyes, she sat forward squinting down toward the lake. On the shore stood a tall thin blonde dramatically animated in a conversation with a young man. "It's far too early for a lover's quarrels," she thought to herself. "Perhaps they aren't lovers at all; perhaps they're related." Swirling the last bit of coffee in her mug, she imagined the conditions of the tift.
The young woman crumpled into the sand, her hands covering her face. Clearly she was sobbing. The young man threw his head back in frustration. She could almost hear him grunt, "Ugh!" He crouched down beside her resting his hand on her back attempting to soothe her. She resisted this consolation, jerking away and sobbing even harder. "Perhaps, in a moment of wickedness, he revealed one of her deepest secrets," she speculated. Drawn further into the little drama, she sat her now empty coffee mug down and ventured a little walk for a closer look.
"Unrequited love. That's got to be it. No one sobs like that for any other reason." She was determined to find out what was torturing this poor woman. The closer she got the more she could hear. He was pacing helplessly around her. Through her sobs bits of sentences could be heard, "should have known," "it was mine." Now it was getting interesting. "What was it? A book? A jewel? Something of value?" Her thoughts raced. Curiosity devoured her. She tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Along the way she stopped to pick a few wild flowers, pausing long enough to listen a bit more.
He was speaking slowly in a soft tone to the tearful woman that was now sitting upright, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. "Honestly, Jo, I didn't mean it." A name! The new bit of information only fed her curiosity. "Jo must be short for Josephine," she thought. He knelt down beside Jo with a look of genuine remorse. "Jo, I didn't realize it was so important. I'm sorry. Truly. When I walked in the room I saw the book setting on the table. Without thinking I picked it up and thumbed through it. I promise I didn't read anything bad! If I had known... You shouldn't have left it out anyway. I mean... No one was around. I had never seen the book before and wondered what it was. I'm sorry!" His hands were wrapped in hers as he pleaded for her forgiveness.
Jo's sobs had slowly turned into soft whimpers. She looked up at him struggling to forgive him. Her lips parted as if to say something but there was silence. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. She let go of his hand and placed hers on his shoulder. "It's okay, Pip. Just promise you'll never tell anyone about it. Pretend you've never seen it. It doesn't exist. Don't ever talk about what you read!" Her face was a deep red which made her green eyes seem even brighter. She threw her arms around his neck burying her face in his shoulder. "Alright. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just stop crying for Pete's sake." His hand slid down from her back to her side and he tickled her until she pulled away giggling. "C'mon. I'll make you one of my famous PB & J sandwiches for breakfast." Even more cheerful now, Jo jumped in excitement. "Peanut butter and jelly always makes everything better, doesn't it Pip?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. As he hugged her in return they both noticed the woman silently watching them with a handful of wild flowers. Her face flushed as she realized she had been seen. Pip pulled Jo gently along.
With a bit of an embarrassed sigh, she climbed slowly up the hill again where her empty mug sat waiting for her. She wandered into the house and sat on the sofa feeling a bit bored. "How very anti-climactic," she thought. The silence lulled her to sleep.
Hours later she awoke to the soft rapping on the patio door. Groggily she shuffled her way over to the empty patio. She scanned the are looking for someone or something that could have made the noise. There was nothing. As she began to slide the door open she noticed a basket at her feet. In the distance just behind a tree she thought she had seen a bit of movement. There was nothing there now. Cautiously she opened the door and picked up the basket. Neatly wrapped in wax paper was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. There was a little square sheet of paper tucked on the side. It simply read, "Sorry for the ruckus." She looked around again hoping to catch the two characters from the little morning play but still saw no one. She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard the sweet giggle of the tall blonde somewhere in the distance. "Thank you, Jo and Pip!" she announced to the outdoors.
Sitting on the patio overlooking the lake she sipped her coffee, letting it spill slowly over her lips pooling on her tongue. She savored the rich flavor for a long moment before finally swallowing. Closing her eyes, she slid back in her chair letting her shoulders relax. The early morning was her favorite time of day. It was perfectly silent save for the sounds of nature greeting the day.
In the distance she heard the high pitched chatter of a young woman. Opening her eyes, she sat forward squinting down toward the lake. On the shore stood a tall thin blonde dramatically animated in a conversation with a young man. "It's far too early for a lover's quarrels," she thought to herself. "Perhaps they aren't lovers at all; perhaps they're related." Swirling the last bit of coffee in her mug, she imagined the conditions of the tift.
The young woman crumpled into the sand, her hands covering her face. Clearly she was sobbing. The young man threw his head back in frustration. She could almost hear him grunt, "Ugh!" He crouched down beside her resting his hand on her back attempting to soothe her. She resisted this consolation, jerking away and sobbing even harder. "Perhaps, in a moment of wickedness, he revealed one of her deepest secrets," she speculated. Drawn further into the little drama, she sat her now empty coffee mug down and ventured a little walk for a closer look.
"Unrequited love. That's got to be it. No one sobs like that for any other reason." She was determined to find out what was torturing this poor woman. The closer she got the more she could hear. He was pacing helplessly around her. Through her sobs bits of sentences could be heard, "should have known," "it was mine." Now it was getting interesting. "What was it? A book? A jewel? Something of value?" Her thoughts raced. Curiosity devoured her. She tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Along the way she stopped to pick a few wild flowers, pausing long enough to listen a bit more.
He was speaking slowly in a soft tone to the tearful woman that was now sitting upright, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. "Honestly, Jo, I didn't mean it." A name! The new bit of information only fed her curiosity. "Jo must be short for Josephine," she thought. He knelt down beside Jo with a look of genuine remorse. "Jo, I didn't realize it was so important. I'm sorry. Truly. When I walked in the room I saw the book setting on the table. Without thinking I picked it up and thumbed through it. I promise I didn't read anything bad! If I had known... You shouldn't have left it out anyway. I mean... No one was around. I had never seen the book before and wondered what it was. I'm sorry!" His hands were wrapped in hers as he pleaded for her forgiveness.
Jo's sobs had slowly turned into soft whimpers. She looked up at him struggling to forgive him. Her lips parted as if to say something but there was silence. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. She let go of his hand and placed hers on his shoulder. "It's okay, Pip. Just promise you'll never tell anyone about it. Pretend you've never seen it. It doesn't exist. Don't ever talk about what you read!" Her face was a deep red which made her green eyes seem even brighter. She threw her arms around his neck burying her face in his shoulder. "Alright. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just stop crying for Pete's sake." His hand slid down from her back to her side and he tickled her until she pulled away giggling. "C'mon. I'll make you one of my famous PB & J sandwiches for breakfast." Even more cheerful now, Jo jumped in excitement. "Peanut butter and jelly always makes everything better, doesn't it Pip?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. As he hugged her in return they both noticed the woman silently watching them with a handful of wild flowers. Her face flushed as she realized she had been seen. Pip pulled Jo gently along.
With a bit of an embarrassed sigh, she climbed slowly up the hill again where her empty mug sat waiting for her. She wandered into the house and sat on the sofa feeling a bit bored. "How very anti-climactic," she thought. The silence lulled her to sleep.
Hours later she awoke to the soft rapping on the patio door. Groggily she shuffled her way over to the empty patio. She scanned the are looking for someone or something that could have made the noise. There was nothing. As she began to slide the door open she noticed a basket at her feet. In the distance just behind a tree she thought she had seen a bit of movement. There was nothing there now. Cautiously she opened the door and picked up the basket. Neatly wrapped in wax paper was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. There was a little square sheet of paper tucked on the side. It simply read, "Sorry for the ruckus." She looked around again hoping to catch the two characters from the little morning play but still saw no one. She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard the sweet giggle of the tall blonde somewhere in the distance. "Thank you, Jo and Pip!" she announced to the outdoors.
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