Saturday, September 21, 2013

Why Me?


Why me?

Many times when I am doing something else, like let's say...playing Farmville 2 (hey don't knock it. It is an absentminded game where I can actually make something grow) and I begin thinking of something. That something pings around in my mind for a while. It begins to grow and sentences begin to form and I begin to ponder those sentences. Before I know it, that little thing has become something I need to write.

It happens quite a lot with me. This entire setback has had one perk and it is that I came up with a new story. Unfortunately I don't have my laptop so I've been handwriting it and will have to eventually try to decipher my handwriting and put it into a readable format.  It may only make it to a few people, I may submit it, eh...who knows. But it will finally be out of my mind and the voice will be silent. That's how my stories work. I hear a phrase or see a scene and then the characters begin clamoring to tell their story. Sometimes, in the case of Maggie, the story goes silent for a long time. Even when I am being pressured to finish. I just stop hearing her. I still know her story but it isn't time for the rest of it yet. She will eventually pipe up again and this time I'll keep listening until her story is finished.

So back to the title "Why me?" I have been told recently that I am a drama queen. I didn't realize this but hey, give me some slack, I have been in a tremendous amount of pain, isolated almost 20 hours a day and on heavy narcotics with a side shot of enough antibiotics to keep me sufficiently sick most of the time. I'll let that drama queen remark slide. I'm not a pleasant sick person. I don't know of anyone that is and that is okay. When you don't feel good you earn the right to be as icky, bitchy and whiney as you want. Those same people that call you drama queen and roll their eyes are the same ones that tend to be even worse when they are ill.

So "Why me?" This year has been rough on me physically. First I break my big toe in a completely freak, and random, way. No big deal. Then I have to have a total hysterectomy with the big "C" scare. That was a big deal and I had to cope with it emotionally, financially and physically. It took much longer than I thought to bounce back from that one. I'd take one step forward and three steps back. I would feel good and then I'd rip something internally or develop a staph infection. Not good on any front. But I overcame it and thought life was headed down the easy street for the rest of the year.

Then a simple twisted muscle/charley horse feeling lead to immediate spinal surgery. Okay...I start to get better and then I plummet into far worse. The type of worse that makes a world renowned neurosurgeon rush you into surgery on a Saturday night at 10:30. It wasn't until I was out and recovering that I found out how bad it is, and even how rare it is, for someone to develop a full blown infection along their spine and throughout their back.

Who did it? Ya. (Pointing finger at chest.) This girl. Please hold the applause until after the show.

Why me? Why was I the one lying in the hospital bed with a drain pump coming out of my back, writhing in absolute agony? Why had I endured my leg being completely paralyzed and now only partially working when it wanted to work? Why? Why? Why?

This always leads to other "Why's" in life. Why did I move so far from my family and friends? I wanted them more than anything. My mom was coming out in a week but I wanted that to be a well-visit. Not a Shonté can barely move, barely walk and is heavily medicated with gross nylon stitches coming out of her back.

Then came the pity party of "Why's". Those are the best. (I'm saying that completely with a stone cold face so you know that I'm being absolutely sarcastic.) Why did my dad die last November? Why did I feel abandoned by my husband? Why did no one come to visit me? Why was I even on this planet? Why did these things keep happening? Why is my insurance being one gigantic dick?

Today it hit. Why not me? I'm not any more special than anyone else on this planet. Bad things happen to everyone  and there is absolutely NO exception. If you think you are special...sorry cupcake but you aren't. You are not special. You may be unique. You may be interesting.  But you aren't the kind of "SPECIAL" that warrants you a hall pass against bad things happening. No one on this planet is that kind of special.

I've learned it is often a dog eat dog world. I've learned that many people lack empathy. I've learned that it is easy to forget those that are not directly in front of you while you go about your day.

 

The hardest thing I've learned is what loneliness can do to a person.  My father was sick for many years before he passed away last November 8th. Before he became ill to the point he could not look after himself, he stayed by himself. I can tell you now, from personal experience, that it is a living hell. The first day after I was discharged I was so sick I could barely crawl down my stairs. I tried for two hours to boil some eggs to eat anything to take away the nausea from the medications. I could barely stand. I had to rest for every few steps. I dragged myself to the couch and slept for two hours before trying to get anything into me. I struggled to open my medication just to get any relief from the agonizing pain shooting down my spine. I couldn't sit comfortably. I could barely walk. I could not make out my phone enough to text or call anyone. I finally managed to call Dave and he came and made me some soup. I took about three bites and, with his help, got back into bed.

 

I learned since then that loneliness is what kills people. When you want anyone to come sit with you and visit but at the same, very weird time, you begin to NOT want people to see you like that. The days when you do not have the strength to shower and you don't know the day of the week. When walking down the stairs and sitting down is all the power you have and you know you wouldn't be able to visit with them.

My mom coming and helping me was a godsend. She didn't expect me to entertain her, even though I felt guilty that I couldn't. She helped do things around the house. She kept me from trying to do things my Dr would have an apoplectic fit over. She talked to me and she listened. We talked a lot about my dad and what changes had happened in her life.  I sat in awe of my mother and all I could think was how fucking strong this woman is and how she has carried on in a way that I never would have been able. It is coming up on 11 months and I am just barely able to even talk about him without breaking down in tears. Thinking about him has me bawling.

 

Being alone gives you a LOT of time to become a drama queen, throw a huge ass pity party and it allows you to take stock of your life. Even this simple blog today has taken over 12 hours to write. Not because I had to stop and think of it but simply because I can't sit in a chair for more than 15 minutes without the shooting agony to begin. So I get up and I try to walk and when my leg starts to go...I kinda find a weird position on the couch.

Why me? Because I can do it. That is why. This, pffft, this isn't the end of me. It may change how I do things but it isn't changing me in a bad way. It is making me stronger. I KNOW I can take care of myself when I don't think I can, when I'm sick, when I'm weak. I KNOW I can overcome. I KNOW that "Why me" has become a way of thinking that it is simply another hurdle in life. The day you let yourself drown in the "Why me's" and you don't stand up and chuck it under the chin, is the day you lie down and give up. Maybe there will eventually be a "Why me" that does beat me but it isn't today. It isn't tomorrow.

 

If there is anything to take from this blog it is this: any single kindness to someone who is down is one of the greatest things at that moment in his/her life. It is easy to forget when someone is not direct in front of you. When the "Why me?" starts getting you down just remember that you are strong enough to say back, "Why not me? I can take it."

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