What is it now, Ralph?
If only I had a simple answer.
Positives: color is returning to my face. This is a symptom I should have paid more attention to. Been whiter than white for more than a month. So white, as a matter of fact, that the make-up people had a hard time matching my skin tone on the film. You’re so pale! Even the lightest foundation is darker than your skin! And yes, I’ve Irish blood somewhere in me and yes, I’m blue-eyed and fair haired so I’m naturally pale, but this went far beyond my usual skin tone. The return of a pink flush to my cheeks has made me aware of the fact that no, I’m usually not that pale when I’m healthy. Please remember for next time; make a note if you have to! My brain function is beginning to return to normal. Felt…foggier than foggy. Unable to keep any line of reasoning or thinking going longer than a few moments. Couldn’t remember what day it was. Kept reminding myself, then forgetting. Read how this is a symptom of shingles (when it’s bad). It affects your nervous system, and brain function can get wobbly. I was defo wobbly. Not 100% yet, but better. My bowel function is returning to normal. This is a biggie for me. My mother, C, died of colon cancer and I’ve been worrying over it for a while, a bit too afraid to see the doc about it and a bit too worried to just blow it off. A few days of anti-viral meds and my morning bathroom break worry is a thing of my past; things are normal and everything looks very healthy.
Wondering now how long this was creeping up on me. I’ve read you can suffer from a shingles outbreak without the blisters. Has this been going on since the beginning of December? Even earlier? Hindsight diagnosis says the possibility is there.
Icky and gross: my body is leaching out whatever made it ill – from my navel. Caught a whiff of something foul yesterday, something beyond the normal unwashed body of a few days’ illness. Took me a while bodysniffing (not something I’d recommend you do in public) to discover it was coming from my bellybutton. I’ve an innie. The skin is red and raw, and when I cleaned it some thick yellow goo came out. First thing out my bro’s mouth was ‘haven’t cleaned the lint from your bellybutton in a while, huh?’, but the answer is no, I keep up on body cleanliness and I do remember my bellybutton. It’s not shingles blisters, either – those hurt. This doesn’t hurt. If it hurt, I might have found it earlier. This just stinks to high heaven. Keeping it clean, and putting on a salve for the raw skin.
Other: my time problems have caught me out. It’s Sunday already. Tomorrow is my Dutch lesson, and I need to think about the note I’ll be sending to my teacher. Feels like I’ve lost a day or two. In effect, I have. Being too out of it to realize what day it is counts as ‘losing time’. The week that seemed so long when the doc handed me a ‘script for all these pills is now short, short, short, and almost over.
Up and coming things to freak out about: heard from the theatre group. A notice went out calling everyone to a reading of my script. A notice that (I noticed) had much closer dates on it than the attempted get-together to watch the vids from the play. Read through the trilogy yesterday. It’s sound heavy, and if it was anyone but me at the helm I’d say it’s too much. But while reading it through, I saw the places where things could be changed. I heard the small versions of the sound effects in my brain. I took everything down to a minimum in my imagination. And the story still works. Stilted acting, obviously fake props, smaller sound than I’d written, and I believe the story still stands strong. I’m nervous the rug will pulled out from under my feet. That the group has wound me up on the idea they’ll do my script, when in reality they won’t (for whatever reason). I’m trying to prepare myself for that let-down. Ach! I don’t trust these people. I’m trying to. But my connection with the theatre group is miles away from my experience with the film group. It was so easy with the film group. All of us pulling in one direction, together. The theatre group is very individualistic, each person worried about their lines, their appearance, their performance, to the neglect of the others. We do not operate as a group. Some alliances can form during work, but they’re tenuous and liable to shift in the next role assignment. It makes me nervous. And edgy. Telling myself that when the time comes for us to sit down and read my script through, I should say that. Tell them I’m nervous, tell them I really want them to do it. Put it out there that I’m vulnerable on this project. It’s my baby. That serves two purposes. One, it helps me start with a clean, honest slate. Two, it’s a bit of a test. It puts the ball in their court. They can rake me over the coals and throw me on the junk pile, or they can hear me and work with me. Their actions will tell me much. It’s the fact that I have to put myself out there in the first place that I hate. The risk of being hurt once again. I will do it, no question about it. But I am reluctant and afraid. Never think otherwise.
Horses and cows, violence and abuse… These things from my childhood are jumbling up in my brain. I’m trying to make sense of something that, in essence, makes no sense.
What is it now, Ralph?
Damned if I know.