Still Here-More Or Less

I know I haven’t been online for a while, so I thought I’d swing by to let you know what’s been going on for the past two weeks.

I had fun celebrating my birthday with my parents and my husband, with lots of gifts and a great dinner, all of which then culminated in my husband’s made-from-scratch chocolate pie, which truly is a transcendent, spiritual experience, and one that I am sorry I was unable to share with all of you.

Then my husband had to go out of town for a week for training for his new job, and the plan was for me to drive back to Charlotte and spend the week with my parents, since I still can’t stay by myself for very long.

However, the night before we were supposed to leave I was completely paralyzed at the thought of having to pack up all my worldly possessions and transport them to a whole nother state (and yes, it really was ALL my possessions, because have I mentioned before that I am a hobo?) So I told my husband that I was going to have to cancel my trip and  instead would be spending the following week whimpering under our bed, and did he think he could possibly arrange to have some food delivered while he was gone?

So my magnificent husband rose to the occasion as he always does, and did all my packing for me, and then it was time for us to leave.

I was excited to be away from home, and from all the projects that subconsciously tempt me all day with their siren song: “Come, do the dishes. And then as long as you are here, you why don’t you just go ahead and reorganize all of the drawers and cabinets? Because that would be really restful.” Fuckin’ sirens. And I was also excited because this is the first vacation I’ve been able to take since I got sick two years ago.

So I spent a wonderful week sleeping, reading a billion murder mysteries, watching Agatha Christie movies, watching all my weekly shows, and sorting through an ENORMOUS tub of quarters, looking for the fifteen we needed in order to complete our collection (because, have I mentioned before that I am severely OCD? I was SO excited to find a situation where this was actually an asset, rather than a liability.)  I was also quite excited to be spending some time in a place where no one chose to express their affection for me by walking across my face immediately after using the bathroom.

Then it was time to come back home, which was really exciting until we discovered that, in our absence, the TV had broken. Oh, and by the way, we didn’t have any internet either.

And lo, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth in the land of the Ryans, because I WAS CUT OFF FROM THE WHOLE ENTIRE REST OF THE WORLD. And also, how could I watch NCIS?! Because, let’s fact it, without NCIS then really, WHAT IS THE POINT OF EVEN EXISTING?!

Oh, and I forgot to mention that during this time I was also experiencing some of the most excruciating fibromyalgia pain I  had ever felt. On a scale of 0-10, it was a 15. And nothing I did even made a dent in it. And there was nothing around the house that I could use to distract myself from it. So one day I just sat down with a foot file and ground away at my heel for over an hour. I saw it start to bleed, I felt it start to hurt, but I Could. Not. Stop. I just couldn’t. I was completely powerless over this compulsion to hurt myself.

I did the same thing to myself just a few weeks ago, now that I think about it. My ankle was swollen to the point of unbearable pain, so I just found something with a sharp edge and spent over an hour digging that object into my ankle. And again, I was powerless to stop. And just like with my heel, I scraped off an entire layer of skin, to the point of blood, and the only thing that stopped me was the fact that my arm got tired.

There is just no way to describe the kind of physical pain where you literally lose your mind, and the only control you have is to refer the pain somewhere else, but this time the pain is under your control. It’s the only shred of control to cling to when your body is basically collapsing right before your eyes.

However-the problem is, of course, that this doesn’t actually help you feel better. It kind of just makes it worse. So after I finished decimating my heel, not only was I someone without TV or internet, I was a TV-less, internet-less temporarily crippled woman who was unable to put any weight on her left foot. A woman who also injured one of her scraping fingers so badly that she had to tape it up, and so now was a TV-less, internet-less, temporarily crippled, temporarily maimed writer. Because if I am going to have a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad week, then BY GOD, I AM GONNA DO THIS PUPPY RIGHT!

But happily, my husband found a co-worker with a television he was willing to lend us, and as of last night we are once again connected to the magical world of entertainment. A thousand blessings to you, wonderful, magnificent co-worker.

And apparently Mrs. Co-worker was also excited about this plan, as my husband reported that, “she could not wait to see the back of this TV!”,  and she was very disappointed to hear that it was just a temporary arrangement.

And then once we had the TV problem solved, my husband reminded me that I could get on the internet at the grocery store (Dear Kroger: God bless you for your free wireless internet), so that’s where I am right now, trying not to breathe the same air as all the other people due to my trashed immune system. “And so how’s that going?”, I can hear my husband asking me in that tone–you know the one I’m talking about. Not very well. unfortunately.

But I’ve gotta wrap this thing up anyway, because it is time for me to buy some cat food. Because 3 cats + 0 cat food=time to get the hell out of the house

So I hope this week is going well for you, and I really, REALLY hope that the Comcast guy can heal our internet tomorrow, and I can go back to my everyday life of not having to wear pants. Send good thoughts please.