The Current State of PA Land and a “Fuck You” MP3 Series
Well, folks. Where to begin? I’ll save the best for last!
I have already expressed my concerns about the possibility of having cancer. I will emphasize “possibility.” There could be other things, and hell! I could end up with another “who knows what the good, goddamn thing’s about!”
I received a call from my mother who said verbatim: “I trust you and your knowledge more than the doctors.” My mother does not read my blog! So, I guess she has now reached the conclusion that I am Dr. PA. Or Dr. <insert real name.>
Regardless, her husband has prostate cancer and suddenly, took a turn for…? I was astonished at the variety of signs and symptoms she was telling me. I dared not say a thing about certain organs affected and other areas of physiognomy. The biggest being neurological problems!
Not to sound callous, but if he dies, fine. My more immediate concern is where on earth will my mother go? They have no money. Finally, due to their stressors regarding his cancer, I am not saying a word about my own personal concerns of having esophageal cancer.
My sister. I don’t care if she thinks she has the hugest case of peri-menopause ever seen by medical specialists the world ’round. My insane mother is now acting more sane than my non-insane sister.
To cut to the chase and try not to keep this post 1,000,000 words long (which it could very well be anyway!) I called her and told her of my medical concerns as I wish her to be my Executrix and handle all Directives etc. She’s known this forever, but now a bit of advance notice? Just in case something does turn up?
I may have hit a nerve, but let’s be real. She began pitying me for my constant health problems but she just “let’s things go now…” Excuse me? The last time I checked, being remotely peri-menopausal does not make you lose your senses of sympathy or empathy. There was an accusation about a funny (tried to be!) message I left on their home VM. She said she thought I was drunk so just ignored it. What the bloody, huh?
I tried to repeat what I was saying and then she just started screaming at me, “NO! NO! NO!” Time to end the call. Which I politely and maturely did. Then, I immediately sent off an email to clear some things up and also say we never even got a chance to talk about the GOOD stuff in my life! We don’t communicate often and most certainly not as often as we used to in the past.
Number Four. Non-Arsey Neuro will not increase my Clobazam past my current 100mg. I have told him I have steadily been making progress. However, I’m still sick, going mental and having seizures when the Typical Absence Status Epilepticus intervals hit. I broke down crying and freaking and yelling at him as he said I’ll be fine on this amount. I’ll get better.
I’ve been on it since February. Now, I am being referred to a large, and highly regarded neuroscience centre here at one of our hospitals. Fine. I’ll do anything they want! Nonetheless, I am now pondering the fact that I may have intractable epilepsy.
Ohhhh, the kicker!!! Kick indeed. As in, “KICK YOU OUT OF MY LIFE!!!” Part of me still can’t believe it. I keep picking up my mobile and looking for a flashing light. Oh, is that you? I must have been away from my mobile. It’s not done in an obsessive way. Not at all! It’s done out of habit. Because we talked to each other (even just via txt) every day.
P. My friend P. who I’ve known for five years…with never any blowouts, blowups (unless slight but then an immediate apology–usually words said out of care that went awry.) P. has given me a massive “FUCK YOU!!!”
Via text. It was so violent and malicious in its wording! He was accusing me of things I had never, ever done! I jumped right back on it and I guess you can probably imagine what I said! And that I loved him! He knew that too! Nothing. It gets “better” though.
I later heard that he was talking to his therapist for a while about doing this.
I went positively mad. Completely out of my head. Two days of non-stop PTSD dissociation. I’ve experienced a few hours and one full day before, but that prior full day was NOTHING compared to this!!!
It was so bad, when I went to see my therapist and she called my name, I just sat there staring at nothing. Did I hear it? Did I hear some of it? Did it just not register? She said it again a bit louder. I turned my head slowly in her general direction but I wasn’t looking at anything. I couldn’t make any eye contact through our session, until I finally left and slowly again, lifted my head in her head’s direction. I saw her face for about two seconds and she was smiling at me.
P. I just don’t get it! If he would only sit down and maturely discuss things! EXPLAIN things!!! Tell me what’s going on!!! God, I’d be MORE than happy to do that!
Which may seem counterintuitive to my choices for the MP3 Series. My feelings have gone from extremely angry to absolute depression to even forgiveness for what he’s done.
“Bitch” by Apoptygma Berzerk
“The Things You Said” by Depeche Mode
“Temperamental” by Everything But The Girl