It was a real mess. The first thing was shingles. Boom, right out of nowhere, the Saturday morning before Memorial Day I woke up feeling like someone had hit the right side of my scalp with a hammer of about a thousand very sharp pins. I dealt with it Saturday, and Sunday, when it was no better, I skipped a family reunion in Leslie County and instead made a little visit to the Urgent Treatment Center. The nurse practitioner gave me the lucky news plus prescriptions for about 5 different kinds of medications.
The shingles ran its course, and is still running its course. I blistered up beautifully, and was in a great deal of discomfort, especially anything that had to do with going outside and getting sunlight on my scalp, which would make the blisters act like a thousand red ants that were pissed off at my skin. The really bad thing with the singles happened when it got into my right eye. I already have glaucoma, which is increased intraoccular pressure, that causes "snow" or "white" blindness. When the singles got on my cornea, it also raised the pressure in my eyes causing me to become extremely sick at my stomach and also made any kind of light entering my eye to feel like a blinding sword.
But we weren't quite done as my reproductive system, which was supposed to have hung up it's "gone fishin'" sign several years ago, decided to kick back into gear in a real big way. Apparently I've been producing a huge amount of estrogen, and very little progesterone, resulting in a condition called endometrial hyperplasia, or, as is known in the common vernacular, bleeding like a stuck pig. A trip to the gyno secured me some progesterone tablets which helped until the prescription ran out when the bleeding, plus cramps, returned in full force.
I haven't written because I couldn't write, and it's been a horribly frustrating time. I haven't been able to see to write, or read, or to enjoy any of the beautiful weather we've been having. Even the light from my laptop was blinding to me so that I couldn't do much more on my computer than check my mail on a daily basis, and that with an eye patch over my right eye while wearing jet black sunglasses in the house. Things are much better now, though. I'm able to type this short amount without said sunglasses or eye patch tonight, and without being doubled over in cramps. A new medication, a new course of action, and hopefully all of this will resolve itself.
I can't get over how pissed off I am at my body, though, for doing this to me. How dare it throw all this crap in my way when I have so much work to do outside and so many things to get done. I'm really angry at the illusion that we keep that we really do have control over these sorts of things. It gets back to how much you really can control your own life, your own time and your own space. What of this life really belongs to you? I can't help but be reminded of a great songwriter, John Lennon, when we said, life is what happens when you're making plans.
One thing I can do is pay homage to my dear partner who once again has had to put up with another round of drama from me. If I can do nothing else, while squinting here tonight at the screen, let me give him his Father's Day dues. And I'll follow my own teaching and try to figure out what I've learned from the experience, while thanking the Great Spirit (somewhat dubiously) for the lessons.
