I keeled over in yoga and haven’t blogged anything beyond then bc the blog is becoming a smear of stress entrails, like roadkill of my intentions. The world spinning, whoosh whoosh, my eyes chasing the walls as they whirligig. I finally dragged my ass into the hospital w the pukers and junkies caught in the spokes of the American medical system blab la. I tried the emergency clinic first, which then wanted to put me in an EMT vehicle w the siren (NOOOOO!) until I found Dan to drive me. On the way, he’s laughing his ass off at my relentlessly sucky summer and then we try for an upside (pause) – Hey I got one, if I have a brain tumor I won’t have to bother much with the whole “O I don’t want you to see me this way!” schpeel. It was damn funny, but maybe you had to be there.
What ails me is a tiny kidney stone in my inner ear basically. I had a salivary stone once, similarly – the downside to having good little brick outhouse type bones is that your body makes calcium out of anything it can find, and that’s what “stones” are. Current treatment is scrip-strength Dramamine 3x a day and wait for it to stop rolling around in there cz there's no way to get it out. “Tipsy” will never be a happy word in my vocabulary ever ever ever again.
The irony is, among other things, that this happens to athletic people mostly [soccer players especially, fyi], who are swishing their head fluids around working up a sweat (and then crying too much, in my case, blowing my nose and knocking a chunk of calcium loose from someplace), and who are then doomed to try to hold still for weeks. And I’m not supposed to WA, cz that will make me ear-gooey. Funny huh? Hold still and don't cry. While I'm at it, maybe I'll grow tall.
I missed this guy in town last Thursday night w Martin Sexton as I was hooked up to an EKG at the time, while the techs flirted with each other over my trapped body. Mike Doughty: Looking at life from the bottom of a well [I'd like this song even if I weren't in a well (theoretically)]; and Thank you Lord for sending me the F train
I suppose at least all that's gone wrong recently has been put into a new perspective, yet again. I don't need a car or a vacation, or anything (theoretically), except myself whole. I haven't spun since yesterday, quietly grateful for it. I went to say goodbye to my friend George last night. He got a new job in Panama City FL, and his wife had a stack of houses off the internet, all with kidney shaped in-ground pools, which gave me flashbacks to watching Alexis and Krystle knocking each other into the water in cat fights. I said, Aren't these sets of 80's nighttime dramas? George and I giggled, and since she's from the Czec Republic she had no idea what the hell we were talking about. I'll miss him. But I didn't WA. My compasionator is currently caputz.
"Better in Time," Leona Lewis
