Same As It Ever Was

My phone – which is used more to play games than it is to call anyone – was ringing off the hook yesterday. Well….I got two phone calls in a row, which IS ringing off the hook for me. First call: the impeccable health care system here, which not only authorizes my Enbrel injections but also delivers them right to my front door. They’ve got it on THEIR calendars – how many injections I have left, how often I take them, etc. so they call 2-3 weeks before I’m out of medication to schedule a delivery.

The second call was from Addiction Central. Didn’t even have to suffer an attempt to get through a receptionist. They must be taking my case quiet seriously. I’ll be receiving another phone call today, between 1 and 6 p.m., from Heike (Blah, you got it absolutely perfect. See why I need you here?). I was given an apology; Addiction Central’s location near me is booked quite a ways into the future, so I had the choice to begin treatment much earlier in their southern location, about an hour from my home. I took it. An hour travel on the metro with my iPod on is easy-peasy. Sitting on my anxiety for several more months would be damned difficult. Undoubtedly there’s a set up in all of this for me. There always is. More than likely, I’ll end up in tears after counseling sessions and be unable to take public transport right after a session ends. That’s the only obvious hitch I can foresee: losing an entire day because of travel time and waiting to calm myself down so I can get back home. Still. If I work myself up into such a tizzy, maybe they should see that. Know that. I know it from my side; let them see it.

So it’s all happening today, here in my apartment between 1 and 6 p.m. I was up at 4:30; no doubt I’ll fall asleep before phone calls and front doors buzzing just to make sure I’m as out of it as possible.

I’m on my water count down. One hour 15 minutes before I leave to head to the pool. One hour 40 minutes before I can get into the water. And NOTHING to make me rush or hurry; I can loll in the shallow end and work my shoulder free of pain for half a fucking hour before doing laps and STILL get an hour swim in. Undoubtedly I’ll swim too fast and get out of breath. I so want to be out of breath. I so want to think ‘damn!’ because my body is working hard. I want to be hot from laps and cool from the water. Dip my head under and look at BLUE for 10 minutes.

Went to see George yesterday. As usual, that was a good choice. The ducks are cold and hungry, and eagerly come waddling my way as I pull out my bread. I’ve been wondering if George acts the same way with other people, and I think I got my answer yesterday. At one point, someone came by walking their dog and George backed away from me several feet. He did it very sneakily, too, like he saw the person and thought ‘Gee! Better act like a normal duck!’. He merged back into the duck crowd with a nonchalance worthy of 007 himself. Then when the coast was clear, he was right back at my feet. George is MY little duck. If he ever did try his trick with anyone else, he’s stopped it. Now it’s just me and him. He’s also quite a connoisseur. I had some left over fries from a meal and brought them along, figuring the seagulls would get them. They did – mostly. I dumped them on the ground after satisfying my feathered friends and walked away so the seagulls could come in. It was a cloud of white – and one mallard duck, as George braved the disdain of the seagulls to snatch a few fries from the pile. He kept going back, too. REALLY likes those fries. I’ll remember that, and keep them aside to feed to him one by one. If that’s what he likes I have NO problem keeping them all for him. He’s my guy.

Seeing George gave me the impetus to take a walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air. It also did a lot to clear up my headache. By the time I came back, I found I was not in the mood for watching horror films. I wanted my afternoon film candy: slightly sweet, served up warm, and always, always containing that cherry on top that ties everything into one nice, neat package. The blanket got pulled up to my chin, my shoulders relaxed, tension eased, and I dropped into that 10 minute concentrated nap that I seem to fall into so easily these days.

My brother has become my cheerleader. He’s always been supportive of me, but on his new medication he’s not just my rock, he’s an entire continent. Seems every day he makes sure to tell me how well I’m doing, how far I’ve come in handling my ups and downs. Anything I want to do – take a walk, sit down and snooze – is great, because it’s me handling myself. With all the positive feedback going on, I’m able to do a bit more than I could before. Yesterday I took out the garbage and recycling. It’s not much at all; only takes half an hour to pick everything up and get it outside. But it’s half an hour my brother can continue to sit and work on his new music rather than doing it himself. If I can keep building on this (and get help with my anxiety), I could live a regular life.

Had one of those strange, step outside your body moments yesterday while I was walking around. The idea struck me that one day I’d look into the mirror and not see the face I was used to seeing, but I’d see me as I ‘really’ am, much older. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t think I look 20 anymore. I’m not fooling myself or anything. But I wondered, for a split second, IF I’d been fooling myself…and how shocking it would be to suddenly see this older me. Things in my life are going pretty well, and that makes me paranoid.

Same as it ever was…

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3 thoughts on “Same As It Ever Was

  1. What a joy to read! I’m so glad things are going well for you. I’m familiar with that feeling ‘this is too good to be true let me wait for the other shoe to drop’. I think in our lives, its natural to live with that expectation. As a rule, I very rarely look at myself in the mirror *shock* *horror* NO THANK YOU!!

    Like

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