Saturday, September 16, 2006

good news is an understatement

So at 3:45 today, I was pretty low, I had just left the pharmacy where the doctor had not called in a prescription for me, which meant I would spend the weekend in tremendous pain. I had fainted in the bathroom of the movie theatre where I had just gone and seen a movie, Half Nelson (which was great btw, I fully recommend it) and had not realized how sick or how much recovery I had still to do from my biopsy this past wednesday. (If you know my mother and read this journal in honor of me having shared this link with you, I implore you not to tell her about the fainting spell, it was over quickly, and my mom already is beside herself with worry and tormenting herself needlessly because she isn't down here in the city to take care of me. At least with the accident and the wheelchair I was at home, though I secretly suspect it was worse to see her invalid son daily.)

I left the pharmacy dark, depressed and resolved to just type one sentence in my journal: "I am so tired of my constant pain."

I have a weird thing about being sick I am constantly trying to convince myself I am not sick, whether it be the flu or something bigger like this, that I am a hypochondriac just attempting to make normal body aches and pains into something bigger and more dramatic. Because that just means I am delusional and not that my body is constantly betraying me, that my narrative is and will continue to be one of sickliness. Sometimes it works to convince yourself the pain isnt there. at least for an hour or two. Mostly it doesnt, you end up exhausting yourself and making you less able to deal with the pain you do have.

At 5:15 slumped in a park attempting to shield myself from the blustery wind I got a call. It was my doctor, she had my biopsy results and apologized for not getting to me sooner. She is the clinic manager who just happened to see me the day I came in to complain about my side pain, (something obviously divinely guided) I don't think anyone else at the clinic would've been able to do as much as this angel has done for me.

She said the biopsy came back negative.

It was benign.

I don't have cancer.

I don't have lymphoma.

I have what is called a ganglioneuroma

I essentially need to have surgery to have it removed, and then I will be okay.

Everyone asked me if I was scared. I said no, and most looked at me as if i was in denail or being intentionally blase. But like I told them, God has taken me this far, through Dad's death, through junior rheumatoid arthritis, through ulcerative colitis, through a vicious car accident and six months of a wheelchair, and now He's brought me through this. I am not saying it was easy. It wasn't. At all. And I know it's not done, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. An end to the pain. And He brought me through.

And mostly that was through the thoughts, the prayers, the well wishes, the concerns, the phone calls, the e-mails, the hugs, the talks at the beach, the intentionally preoccupying of my mind especially on the bad days; i made it through because of all of you.

A bit maudlin and sappy I know, but 'm happy and relieved.


Thursday, September 14, 2006

a blankish sorta post of nothings

It is 2:32 am, I have no idea why I am awake, other than the fact I have slept most of today and yesterday. And yet I know if I would actually lay down in bed I would pass out immediately. I am so tired the cookie crumb sitting idly by my keyboard keeps trying to convincing me it is a bug in a weird "lets fool chris" pact it has going with my peripheral vision. It took me a minute to remember how to spell idly and I didn't even attempt to spell peripheral correctly at all. I am kind of a blank slate feelings wise as I wait for a call from a doctor of some sort. And yes I do realize no doctor is gonna call at 2:37 am, but you never know you could have some bizarrely diligent doctor who got bored, then again I cannot even get them to call me during normal doctor hours even after three thousand messages asking for a call. I realized today that my biopsy was the third extremely long needle thrust into my numbed body for a test of some sort. That has to be a record of some sort. Well maybe not a world record, but at least an on this block record and definitely an in this house record.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

discussion prior to biopsy attempt the second

{Insert lengthy explanation of procedure plus list of all the horrible ways it could go wrong here}

Me: Ok (as I sign)

Doctor: Any questions?

Me: Can I see the needle??

Doctor(incredulously): And, um, can I ask why you would want to see it?

Me: Because I am insanely curious about everything.

Doctor: (long pause while looking at me intently): yeah. I dont think that would be a good idea. its reeally long. and scary.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Yes, I realize my feet are so white they are blinding....

So in a fit of boredom I wandered on to and to the free section. And lo and behold I saw a link for a free pool table. Now granted I suck at playing pool, but mainly because I never play and when I am given the chance my suckage leads me to playing for about five minutes before my competitor has sunk all the balls. I hesitated to call the gentleman, because it had been a few hours and I assumed a free pool table would be snapped up instantly. But as you can see, it wasn't and now yours truly owns a pool table of epic proportions. And soon enough I will be making Joe and Josh cry as I crush their little pool playing dreams.