Tuesday, July 2, 2013


No man can estimate what is really happening at the present. All we do know, and that to a large extent by direct experience, is that evil labors with vast power and perpetual success- in vain: preparing always only the soil for unexpected good to sprout in. ~ J. R. R. Tolkien

Forgive my stream of consciousness.  I cannot harness a complete thought today.  Here's what my mind looks like.

I must get a shower.  I haven't washed my hair in 5 days.  It's gross. It's a sign you're slipping into a bad place.  Not really.  If they knew how painful it is to shave your legs and wash your hair they would understand.  Hygiene is a high level problem.  Actually, self care is important.  Where's that article I ripped out of Oprah about self care and depression?  I'd give anything to have someone give me a pedicure and wax my eyebrows.  Somehow I climb up on the bathroom sink and tweeze for fifteen minutes.  This is my happy place.  It always has been.  Focusing on one little part of my face I can control. My shoulder pops out, and I am jolted back into reality.  Monica, get into the shower.

Okay, not really, just lay down for a minute and rest your neck.

I must pack a bag for my trip.  I get all my meds together.  I email Dan to pick up two at the pharmacy tonight.  I put my favorite ratty hoodie in the wash.  I begin a list of things I need to talk to Dr. Henderson about.  I find my CT disc.  I email Dan to print my boarding pass.  I get out my little shuffle.  I log onto itunes to make a new playlist for flying.  I love Need to Breathe's Washed by Water.  I hate flying.  I plug in my Kindle to charge.  I turn it on and read a chapter in Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire.  I think about my day tomorrow.  I get online to try to estimate cab fare.  I realize I am definitely going to have to use the metro.  I try to remember how to use the metro.  I create a little word notepad document for myself so I don't get lost tomorrow.

"Alarm at 455 am.  Sweet "stranger" whose heart I love picks me up for ride to airport at 515 am.  Flight CAK to DCA, 625-740 am.  DCA, Yellow line to Chinatown.  Switch to Red line to Rockville.  Cab to MRI location at Shady Grove, 11 am.  (I can't remember if going all the way to the Shady Grove station is actually better than Rockville.  I hate the Shady Grove Station.  Rockville it is.)  Flexion/Extension MRI.  Throw up discreetly in bathroom.  Cab back to metro.  Red line to Bethesda.  Cab to Dr. H appointment in Chevy Chase, 4 pm. Wait. See Dr. H closer to 6 pm.  Remember why you are doing this at all. Cab to hotel.  Collapse."

Back on track.  Things I must do.  Write in the mother/daughter journal Delaney and I keep to one another.  I always write her before I go anywhere.  Finish thank you notes.  Maybe I could bring them with me and write them at the airport.  I am so behind on gratitude.  Feel shame.  Door bell rings.  It's my friend picking up some books to borrow for her vacation.  I answer the door.  We chat for a minute.  I wish I had actually gotten that shower.  Feel shame.  Her hubs and kids are waiting in the car.  They are heading to the zoo.  The zoo, a day before they leave on vacation.  Is this how people live?  God, why couldn't I have a "real" life?

Lay down for a minute and rest your neck.

Delaney makes the girls lunch.  I nibble on toast and sip gingerale.  I clean up lunch.  I can't just wipe the table.  I start to wipe everything in the kitchen.  I don't know how I ended up on my hands and knees wiping the floor.  STOP.

Lay down for a minute and rest your neck.

I have so many emails.  I just don't have the energy to respond.  I need people.  My family needs people.  I just can't decide how and when.  I hate the necessary focus on self chronic pain and illness breeds.  How do I keep my eyes on Him when I feel like someone is knifing me in my gut?


I don't wrestle against flesh and blood.

I balance all I know about what is attacking me with the truth He won't let me go.  He will never let me go.  He's preparing the soil for good. Only good.

I can do all things through Him.  Even this.  Especially this.

I'm getting in the shower.

(Thank you for praying for my trip and my surgery at Cleveland Clinic on Monday.  My dear sister Rochelle is coming here to be with me.  I honestly cannot wait to get as much of this disease as possible out of me.  Dan and I lay here at night and continue to talk about our future in terms of HOPE.  Even through manic days of suffering we believe continuing to fight for the best life is the right thing to do.  No matter what the cost we will not give up on this journey.  We are so grateful for your enduring love for our family.)

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