My Father Cuts My Pity Party Short

Despite my push to live like there is nothing wrong with me.....to make circumstance conform to my version of reality.....there have been problems.

Even though Kate has told me to stop "overbooking", I have not.

I insisted that we keep to my plan for Jen's birthday and go to Foxwoods. Now, how strenuous can this be, for pity's sake! We drove down Wednesday, had facials, laid around the spa & pool. I must say, this is my last time at the Norwich spa, the MGM next door is just so much better. The service itself was great, but the whole set-up is all wrong. Then we changed for dinner and had melt-in-your-mouth filet at Cedars. I took all the right meds and slept for 8 hours. Thursday morning I felt fabulous! I wasn't even winded by the crazy Dunkin Donuts adventure and I was the energetic one that drove back to Boston.

I made it through infusion easily....after all, the laptop worked in there! Then it was off to the cardiologist, who saw me quickly despite the fact that I was the one who was late.

Jen and I went over to Grace's where we had dinner and a movie. I wanted to stay and go with them to Logan to pick up my nephew Dan who was returning from basic at Fort Leonard Wood, but I knew I wouldn't make it.

Does that sound strenuous? Does that sound like overbooking?

I have been paying ever since.

Friday and Saturday are a blur. Literally, I couldn't see most of the time. I am so full of fluid that my eyes are blurry and leaking. I showered Friday, but just put on a clean nightgown and sat on the couch. Yesterday I dressed after showering if you want to be nice and call my PJ bottoms and a T-shirt dressing. Then it was back to the couch for a day of western movies. I tweeted the USS Gravely commissioning, but really, that was no physical or brain power, was it?

Last night I was up a bunch of times and when I finally decided to give in and take another half dose of oxy....I couldn't break the stupid pill in half.

Finally, an hour ago, I sat up in bed and was ready to get up. But, for a minute, I just couldn't boost myself up to a standing position. I gave in and started to cry....and get this!!! Tears hurt! What. The. Fuck????? My eyes have been oozing, streaming, running for three days, but tears are different? They stung and I got a stabbing pain in my temples.

So I had to stop.

I got up and took the pills and brushed my hair and headed down to wash my face. Great! What if this is some kind of infection?

I sat down in one of the recliners in the TV room to wait for my father to come out of the bathroom. I was contemplating the irony of my life at this moment. How many times did I think I wish I had more time to just read....got plenty of time now, I just can't focus. How many times did I wish for more time to blog....got plenty of time now, for all the good it does me.

There are people who will come and take me anywhere I want to go or just keep me company, but I can barely get out of bed.

There are M&Ms and they taste funny.

My father has tons of john Wayne movies and fab TV and Blue Ray player...I just can't work myself up to it. He has a bazillion Direct TV channels and nothing moves me.

My calender is full of potential lectures and talks and presentations all around Boston. I could take a quick cab ride anywhere and see whatever I wanted.

I have gift certificates for meals and spa services nearby.

I feel like Burgess Meridith in "Time Enough At Last" which I always found to be an extremely chilling Twilight Zone episode.

And I know, this isn't the bad part.....this is.

And I can't even effin' cry about it because it hurts.

So my Dad comes out, freshly showered and he is singing. He asks why I didn't knock, I tell him it wasn't that pressing. As I pass him, he sees my face. He bends his knees, rounds his shoulders and squints his eyes like some horrible troll.....or more precisely, a mirror of how I look "Well, don't pee your pants!"

I start laughing - "Jerk!"