Monday, April 19, 2010

The Lightbulb

So if you're a regular reader you know I've been chronicling my health history. I've dealt with (in chronological order according to my age) synovitis, a blocked eardrum, a revealed ankle bone, a gouged hip, a scarred cheek, chondromalacia of the left patella, a torn ankle tendon, a crushed vertebra from a falling fridge, a zombie toenail, a blood blister the size of a plum on my heel, Lyme's Disease, an emergency appendectomy, pleurisy for the first time, pleurisy again seventeen years later, and pneumonia, all of which were interspersed with sporadic bouts of chronic bronchitis, arthritic side-effects from the Lyme's disease, carpal tunnel syndrome, and finally fibromyalgia. Oh, yeah, and crushing depression and anger management issues.

Do I want sympathy? Do I want pity? Hell yeah, I've been trained to. Normally. But I've just about had enough of it so this time I am going to respectfully decline.

I've come to some conclusions about this spectacularly bizarre run of bullshit.

I can't discount the fact that I have a very delicate equilibrium. I am not one of those hearty folks who shrug off infection, repel collision, eat/drink/ingest whatever they want and wake up smelling like a rose. No. I am the kind of person who has one peanut M&M and winds up in the waiting room.

Like a mouse stuck in a maze I've stood on the threshold for what feels like eons, repeatedly pushing the button that looks right. And for eons I've been shocked to the core over and over and over. Finally my teeny weeny mouse brain perked up. It started January 1st, 2008 when I quit smoking cigarettes. Cigars/weed were next for the poor shocked mouse and now the worst thing I take into my body is probably a peanut butter pretzel.

Even the tiniest brain can learn not to shock itself.

If it were simply a question of will power I'd have done it a long time ago. But, no, it is more than that and this is where I begin to tread on what is for me VERY THIN ICE.

Will power cannot even come into play unless there is a FAITH at work. An inherent belief that your system is holy, that your mechanism deserves the greatest odds you can give it.

I already got hit by a car and I'd have been pissed if it had finished me off. If a bus hits me I'll be in as perfect health as can be to show off to the Medical Examiner.

I joke but this dim light has been steadily brightening for me over the past few years, illuminating dark corners I'd not have even admitted were there. And with each day that goes by in which I treat my body like a temple my brain perks up, my soul follows suit.

So what will I be writing about next week now that I've plumbed the depths of my ridiculous health history? I don't know yet, but with the light streaming into the cracks I think I'll be able to see well enough to come up with something.

I'd make a crack about how that might be because of the hole in my retina but wonder of wonders I just had an eye exam and guess what? The hole healed.

All on its own.

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