A Trip to the Hospital: Part II
See here for the first part of the story. – – – My mom and I sat side by side in hard plastic chairs, listening to the social worker go on about why I didn’t qualify for Medicaid or Medicare. Mom had driven down to take me home so I could convalesce before going back to rehab, but first thing’s first – the bill of services. Hence, the social worker. “I’ve been sober for thirteen days. I’m in rehab. I have nothing. Who is going to pay for this?” I asked everyone from the epidemiologist to the nurse who changed my IV fluid. Any time I repeated this question I…
The Bravest Thing I’ve Ever Done
I’m not a terribly brave person. If anything, I’m rather cowardly. Exhibit A: I flee from confrontation Exhibit B: The thought of a spider crawling across my arm sends me into apoplectic shock Exhibit C: A crowded room makes me want to crawl into myself and disappear Exhibit D: I’m not into extreme sports like cow tipping or, to my husband’s eternal dismay, skydiving Exhibit E: It took me about a decade of writing experience before I summoned the bravery to share my work with others That’s a lot of evidence against me, enough for me to write myself off as a cowardly lion, which I’ve always done. But as one of my favorite…
A Trip to the Hospital
“I’m okay,” I said, taking a gulping breath. The counselor tilted her head slightly, looking at me quizzically. “Are you sure? You look like you’re having trouble breathing.” “Yes,” I said. I took another gulping breath. “Well, okay then. Let me know if you want me to take you to the clinic.” I nodded. I couldn’t afford to go to the doctor. I’d never had insurance – preexisting conditions, you know. It was probably just a bad case of bronchitis, but luckily I could go to an online Canadian Pharmacy to find medicines for this. I could live with that. May,* the head counselor of the women, continued to lead…
The Cat Lady, AKA Kurtz
Man, have I been in a weird place lately. I’ve spent the entirety of 2013 sick, what a mind-trip (never mind that it’s only been seventeen days, who asked you?). Being sick for weeks at a time, pretty much since Christmas, definitely plays tricks on your head. I’ve been like Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now, modern film’s answer to Conrad’s maniacal anti-hero. Last night I wrote this really heavy post about mortality, meaning in life and not wasting away precious hours slaving at a job you hate to be part of the rat race, or as I like to call it, the treadmill of capitalistic despair. I’m not even joking, I had pictures…
Fooled Again!
Every time I think I learn my lesson, I get knocked flat on my bum again. I know, I KNOW that if I do too much, try to accomplish everything on my list and work from dawn until dusk, that I get sick. This is just the reality of living with a chronic illness. Those of you who suffer a similar malady, you know what I’m talking about. Those who don’t, you are so lucky and can we trade bodies for a while? The problem is, I get fooled into thinking I don’t have a problem. My body, so healthy looking on the outside, and my mind, so chock full of…
WTF, Bubonic Plague?
Holy God, someone just had the Bubonic Plague. Someone in AMERICA. I thought modern science whipped that guy’s ass, am I right? WTFH, you guys??? Sorry, I’m just FREAKING OUT a little bit. I remember studying the Bubonic Plague in middle school, and from what I remember, EVERYBODY DIES. Okay, so it’s no secret that I have an overactive imagination, and I truly don’t believe I will die from this disease (I envision going out in a blaze of glory, like rescuing a baby from a runaway tractor) – But knowing it’s out there scares the ever-loving heehaw out of me. See, I have this problem. An embarrassing problem. I mentioned…
Sick Days: A Guilty Ode to Using All the Tissue
So if you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, it’s been no secret that I spent most of Adventure Week in the throes of a nasty sinus infection. Of course, during this time I started thinking about the psychological paradigms of illness, because that’s where my mind goes after systematically watching everything in my Netflix queue. I have mixed feelings about being sick. I am sick oftener than most people, as I think I was last in line when God was handing out immune systems. I was probably goofing off when he made the announcement. This is what I get for not paying attention. Being sick is no picnic, for obvious…
