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this thing

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drip drop

I haven’t found the voice that will allow me to craft a story in a way that I would feel compelling. Maybe it’s not really in my wheelhouse. Right now I scribble down this and that from the place that I know best. It’s not that I’m not interested in the world around me, on the contrary. I want to know everything, but what I’ve discovered about myself is that I’m not wired that way. I’m a generalist. I am knowledgeable around many subjects and continually seek to know more about any variety of topics that cross my path and pique my interest; constantly curious. You could view my assertion as a self serving excuse or something more but I am an intensely private person and engaging in this bloodletting is uncomfortable, as much as it is cathartic for me to set it down.  I apologize for this if you don’t really give a crap, but just pass it by if that is the case because I don’t give a crap either. This is my process, and yes this is a public forum, but I’m working on something here.

this is the status quo?

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I’m writing this in the hour I have before I take my handful of medication and they kick in and I can’t see. That’s just how it is lately. Suffice it to say, my life has changed significantly since January. My body is partly to blame but medical professionals mucking around has had a lot to do with it. My neurologist kicked up the dosage for TN medication but still points a finger at the hypertension medication, my family doctor says it must be something with my brain. He could be right. The internist hasn’t been weighing in on it, merely switching up the medications that all have dizziness as a side effect to which I can testify.  I asked my local pharmacist to weigh in and she was of the mind that someone my age should not be throwing back 5 hypertension medications.

I all started when I woke up January 4 with my world spinning around me, not a new event. My doctors have been puzzling over this for a year and before they got involved another year or so. But instead of crawling back to bed and hoping for sleep while it passed, I called a friend who told me to call 911. I did what the 911 operator told me, I collected my medications, corralled my cat into the bathroom, while my world continued to spin. Then I lay at the front door of my apartment and cried.

I was taken to emergency. They measured my blood pressure and it read dangerously high so they began to fuss over me in the cramped quarters of emergency. I lay on the uncomfortable gurney while they attended to me throughout the day. An internist joined in the fray, poking, prodding while asking a million questions. It was decided I should be admitted and was landed in Medical Overflow as they politely call it and that’s where I stayed for a few days more living a hospital life. I was transferred up to Pediatrics which added a surreal spin to the experience.

So what does that have to do with now? Well since then my body has been bombarded with medication with questionable results. There’s a tradeoff. the blood pressure isn’t managed well so I now experience these new side effects. My vision is blurred, double and my balance has been thrown out. Most days, that is. I’ve gone to referring to my life in portions of good days and bad days. Mostly bad days. Those are the days when my balance is so bad that I don’t feel comfortable leaving my apartment to do anything. I can’t get my feet under me and the world tips back, forward, side to side. It’s in varying degrees so some days I risk it. I tried to do my laundry one day and collided with the laundry room door twice, once I hit it it head on and then on the next trip I lead with my elbow, so hard I thought I had fractured it. Even if I sleep well I need to nap for a few hours during the day. On the rare good day I rush around my house and my neighbourhood to take care of business, sometimes merely take a walk, which is a beautiful luxury. Still I am always weak, and must be mindful with how I walk and move through my life.

The biggest effect this has had on my life is that my life has stopped short. I’m not working. I feel vulnerable and as if my life has accelerated so that I am much older than I am. I don’t make plans. Someone suggested to me that I get a cane. I was horrified by the suggestion. I’ve mostly hidden from the world and can only comment on what is happening around me.

I’m slapping this into the box. I don’t have time for perfect. It will never be perfect. It will always happen that I could have expressed it better than I did. I just wanted to get it out there. Seemed as good enough a place to start as any. I’m not going to step away from it like I usually do and procrastinate about making the perfect post, which is really just another reason not to do something I’ve been meaning to do. I just want to get it done and move forward. Maybe I’ll get some flow happening. If other people can do it, I certainly can.

This is my life.

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