Spin the color wheel, hotshot!

I'm feeling magenta, again. Not the sad blues, the angry reds, or even the depressed grays. I'm just magenta.

It's been a rough few days. My leg started acting up again. I guess I forgot about it so it decided to get my attention. It did the beet-red, seventh circle of hell hot, jumpy wormy thing again. Took to my bed for a few days then called the doctor.

I'm off the antibiotic I've been on since last July - can you believe it?!! But to attack whatever staph/strep/Fred (dammit, he's still around!) is lingering, Dr. H. gave me the most icky antibiotic. I don't respond to this drug very well. Spent the weekend, Monday and most of Tuesday sick in bed. Isn't a pill suppose to make you feel better, not sicker?

I seriously thought I was going to upchuck in Costco today. I made sure to mark the distance to each trashcan. On a quick digression, my Dad loves Costco. Even though he'd just had lunch, whenever he saw a sample table, his response was the same, "Ohhhh...a sample table!! What do you suppose they're giving away?! Let's go!!" Since Dad was pushing me, I too ended up at every sample table. I didn't eat like he did but I was forced to listen to his "sample table" conversation. "So, what can you tell me about this product? I like it but I'm not sure. Is it possible for me to get a larger sample?" My Dad was at his most charming and he scored big. No chicken tidbit for him. Nope, it was a whole chicken breast!! And look, his own tube of Gogurt!! Not a teaspoon like all the other losers!! Ahh...Costco, always an adventure with my Dad!

Anyway, I called in to Dr. H. about the side effects from the antibiotic. I'm off of all antibiotics!! Yea!! Okay, I'm a little nervous. This is a critical time for me. If my back doesn't do that gross bursting thing again, it should be the end of all infections in my back. Oh my!!

Next month I see Dr. B. to decide about the next surgical step (ha!) for my leg. I'm not feeling the love for another surgery. If you know my complete medical history and experience, then it won't be a surprise that every time I was suppose to have surgery on my leg, something happened to delay the surgery. Maybe I'm grasping at "signs" but hey, that's fine with me. Once is noted, twice is a "Hey, that's weird", third is a "Damn! What's going on?!", fourth and fifth are a "uh uh. Nope. Not doing it." That's five times too many. Maybe I'm suppose to keep the leg because something better is coming.

Speaking of which, I have some feeling on the sides and bottom of my foot!! Not just heat prickles that go to my belly, ow, but more of a, "Wow, that's Dad's fingernail! Ow, that hurts!!" Incredible, isn't it? I'm not sure what it means but I read that peripheral nerves can rejuvenate. Now if I could just train my toes to bend at will. Sigh. I'll take what I get - and this is good.

These past few days keep reminding me of that song by Dead or Alive. Yea, yea, I'm dating myself but I don't give a damn. You know, "you spin me right round baby, right, round, like a record baby, right round, right round. You spin me..." Health-wise, I feel as if my life is kind of in a loop. The rest of my life is pretty great...which could lead to the other song, "What I really need to do is find myself a brand new lover..." Ooohkay, I'm signing off for now. Hope your week is filled with fun...it's summertime, baby!

Independence Wars, a Bedtime Story

In a galaxy far, far away...nah, in a normal house, in a normal neighborhood, lived a semi-normal girl who was very loved by her parents. She was very sick for a very long time, and her parents took very good care of her. When she started getting better, the girl began to realize that while her parents loved her very much, they tried to control many aspects of her life. What was she to do? She loved her parents and didn't want to upset them by seeming ungrateful...but she wanted to make her own decisions and her parents were having a hard time letting go. The girl was sad and angry - and more than a little resentful. Little things that should have stayed little things became the subject of heated discussions. One of the girl's parents liked to remind her, sometimes several times an hour, of what she should be doing. One of the girl's parents liked to remind her, several times at any given moment, that she didn't need that object or questioned the need for so many shoes and purses.

Gentle readers, do not get the idea that the girl's parents were bad, selfish and mean people. The girl understood that they had undergone a very traumatic time while she was sick for so long. Now the time had come to let go and her parents wouldn't, couldn't let go for very long or very far.

The girl wanted to move to her own normal house, in her own normal neighborhood. She thought if she found something close to her parents they would be content in visiting her in her own home. Alas, her parents were scared to let her be free. Not free from them but free to try and live her normal life, in her normal house, in her normal neighborhood. There were endless discussions on what to do to her normal house, in her normal neighborhood. They battled over floor tile, plumbing fixtures, appliances, kitchen cabinetry - any decision was a tug of war of control. The girl wielded what veto power she had but still had to listen to reasons why her parents disagreed with her decisions.

The girl dreamed of her first night in her normal house, in her normal neighborhood. Imagine her despair upon learning that her parents had worked out a system whereby one of them would always be with her - until they felt comfortable enough to let her have her solitude. The girl wondered what was the point in getting her own normal house, in her own normal neighborhood if her parents were going to be living with her?

The girl understood fear. She knew that moving to her own normal house, in her own normal neighborhood was a big step. A huge leap into the unknown. She was not afraid of the unknown - she was ready to be an adult again. The girl knew that her parents wanted to keep her as their girl because they felt they needed to protect her, to fight what battles they could for her, to make sure they were a part of her life, always...they would not, could not lose her now after almost losing her so many times before.

I don't know how the story ends, readers. It unfolds constantly with each new page. Hopefully, the girl's parents will realize that without letting her try to live her own normal life, in her own normal house, in her own normal neighborhood, the girl has already failed. The girl doesn't need to be rescued anymore.

Home again, home again

I didn't realize that it's been almost a month between posts. The last month has certainly been quick!

My flight home was uneventful. The airline was prepared for me, my walker wasn't broken, the staff was very nice...all in all, a very quiet ending to an eventful month.

For my birthday (woo hoo!!) I flew to Las Vegas to meet Missy R and Missy P. Now that was an adventure. 30 minutes before leaving for the airport, my flight was canceled. ACK!! The airport location I was leaving from was small, so flight choices were even smaller. I managed to book a flight that would leave an hour later than my canceled flight, which was good. When I got to the airport, the flight was delayed for almost two hours because of high winds. Oh, I did get to see the guy who played "Jaws" in the Bond movies. Geez, he has a loud voice. He was passing out autographed pictures of himself. I didn't get one. Anyway, remember how I told you the plane was small when I flew out to visit my sister? Well, that was a 747 compared to the toy plane I boarded for Vegas!! I didn't know you could fly propeller planes commercially!! PROPELLERS!! Sardine can, practically sitting in your seat mate's lap, breathe in his stenchy exhale, see every ear hair, close. On the bright side, we flew at a lower altitude so I was able to see below more clearly. I prayed and did my mantra (We will not crash, we will no - sh*t! what was that?! Oh my god, we're going to die!) the entire hour to Vegas. Once we landed, I turned on my cell phone. Missy R was texting me messages of concern, "Where the hell are you, beyotch?" So nice to be loved.

For my birthday, we saw Sir Tom Jones. So the man's well into his 60's. He can't shake his hips or thrust them suggestively like he did in his younger days, but that man puts on a show. Much younger entertainers will take costume breaks or maybe there will be a lull in the show so the entertainer can go potty. Not Sir Tom. He never left the stage for 1 1/2 hours. Sang beautifully. If you've not heard him sing "20O pounds of Heavenly Joy" or "Git Me Some" you're missing out on some very sexxxy songs.

I'm glad to be home. There's much to do and finish this summer. It feels incredible to get out and capture life again. As each day passes I realize how much I lost of the old me - Jessica Part 1, and how much I'm appreciating the new Jessica Part 2. I'm blessed to have wonderful, supportive friends and family. I still grieve for what my life could have been but I'm excited to know what my life could be now. I will always carry the pain, the knowledge that I probably won't walk normally again, that my life path is forever changed - I'm grateful that every morning I wake to feel the sunshine and fresh air on my face. It's a hell of a lot better than being six feet under with dirt as my blanket. I'll take life, this life, every day and every chance I'm given.