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Spining My Wheels

Unfortunately, the human body isn't arranged so that one is able to give themselves a swift kick in the butt. That's what I needed today. I'm going to make a conscientious effort to not have another day like today.

I didn't go to bed until 6:00 am because I went to www.italknews.com, and spent a lot of time reading, writing, and getting lost in what I was doing. That web site is news and fact oriented, and reading factual information, which sometimes isn't, takes a lot out of me. Poetry and fiction is more my bag. I'm a creative writer, but I feel like I need to dabble in everything.

My last trip to the psychiatrist, he doubled my Focalin, which is an ADHD type medication. My sleeping pattern isn't. Either I sleep too much, or not enough. At any rate, he told me to get up at 7:00 am and take a pill, then go back to bed if I wanted. He thought I wouldn't be able to sleep. Granted, I did wake up twice, but I didn't get out of bed until 1:00. I took another Focalin when I got up, as he directed. I was focused, and thinking clearly, but I couldn't shake the rain cloud over my head.

I thought the internal medicine doctor would call today because I delivered two previous mamogram x-rays to his office on Monday. Waiting for the doctor to call is even worse than waiting for a first date to call back. So much for instant gratification.

My thoughts kept circling around the cancer issue. Maybe I should call the doctor and get the name of another doctor to do the colonoscopy he recommended I have last year. I'm not going back to the doctor that did the previous one. He didn't use enough drugs, and I was actually screaming for him to stop. That's not my style. Anyhow, I decided against that. There's no point in getting compulsive about cancer detection.

If this irregularly shaped pea-sized area in my right breast is cancerous, and if those nasty ole cells have invaded my lymph nodes, and traveled about my body. . . I'll find out soon enough. Playing the game of "what ifs" with myself is only bringing me down further. Only God knows, and I need to just evict negative thoughts from my head, and trust Him.

The news of Dana Reeves' death, Mrs. Superman, from lung cancer at age 44 kind of reinforced my fears, and brought back memories. Daddy died of lung cancer. He died within three months of its first detection. Lung cancer and breast cancer aren't the same animal, but lung cancer is the form that lived in the house with the family.

I was in my first semester of college, and most of the details of his illness have faded with time. I really wanted to smoke a cigarette today, but I didn't. After ten weeks I know a cigarette wouldn't taste good, not like I remember--even with a cup of coffee. I'd only end up feeling bad about myself for taking refuge in a cigarette. I won't say I've beat that devil, but I'm far enough away from the habit that I almost feel like a non-smoker. My hair, and clothes, and house, and car smell much better.

I lazed around the house all afternoon, watching Star Trek reruns that I've practically memorized the dialogue to. I petted "Emily," my remaining kitty. I persuaded "Big Bad John," my Lab/Shepherd, to cuddle with me on the sofa. "Shadow," the German Shepherd, kept watch and bestowed lots of loving wags on me. I eventually got out of the house for a can of dog food dinner, and my mom came and picked me up and took me to the cafeteria.

Although I love my house, I need to get out and go someplace every day. Just a change of scenery can do so much to lighten a mood. The church at the end of the road was filled with political signs, and I remembered it was voting day. Texas politics are complicated for me, as a Democrat. To make a difference in November candidate options, one really needs to vote Republican, because that's where the tighter races are. But I didn't want my voter registration card to be stamped "Republican." So, I didn't go to the polls, but I can still get involved in signing a petition to get an Independent on the ballot. I had high hopes for Kinky Friedman in the beginning, but I've followed his antics enough to consider him a joke. Carol Keeton Strayhorn is a much more worthy option. To elect an Independent as a Texas governor is practically impossible. I'm a sucker for ideals and lost causes.

On the positive side, I wrote and posted a poem. The muse hasn't been around in awhile. I started a poem about "Nellie," but it's simmering on a piece of notebook paper. Wrong words, too many syllables, and maybe just too painful to deal with right now.

I realized I need to purchase a spiral notebook, because I used to do a lot of writing when I had one around, waiting to soak up my inspiration and private thoughts. There's a lot of gut spilling I'm going to need to do to get past my present funk.

I used to make lists in my spiral notebooks to refer to. Today I could have used a list of things to do to make me feel better. After watching an old George Carlin HBO show this evening, I began to feel a bit more like a normal human being. He makes me laugh, and he's an amazing wordsmith, of sorts. Like they say, laughter probably is the best medicine.

Tomorrow is another day. The mind is a tremendous weapon, and I won't let mine turn itself on me. I'll just chalk today up as a general grieving day, and do my best not to have another for quite some time.