Music's Like a Snuggie for Your Soul

MUSIC'S LIKE A SNUGGIE FOR YOUR SOUL

Friday, February 19, 2016

Adulting is Horseshit



My friend Dane scouting Shoestring Falls on our way to a stellar December kayak szechuan 
I'm angry. I should be incredibly grateful, but for the last 2 weeks i've demonstrated the emotional maturity of a pre-pubescent T-rex. Outwardly i'm depressed. Inside i'm throwing a tantrum. I don't think it's very healthy.


Hm, since i last blogged things have been pretty good. I should keep better records but by my off-the-cuff recounting, i ate shit in aisle 47 on or around Valentine's day three years ago, and that was the first seizure at work that i blogged about. I'm still not sure who found me that day. I don't think it was more than a week later that i was at work again and couldn't get away in time. In a lapse of judgement i ended up in the bathroom. I didn't get hurt that time, beyond the shame and tongue biting. Considering the venue (en el trabajo y el baño), I don't remember it as being a very traumatic episode, as far as they go. The co-worker who found me was kind about it on account, she told me, she'd dealt with her mother having strokes when she was young.

I might have had one more around that time where i almost made it home. I don't live very far, but it's a fairly busy highway. I was fine, albeit a spectacle, as i was on or near the sidewalk with a helmet on, and fortunately Olive stuck right by me. I broke a tooth, but it was my favorite ambulance crew, and they quickly loaded my dog, bike and trailer into their rig and brought us home.

From about then, I went until New Year's 2015 and whatever happened that night landed me in the neuro ICU. (...an hr. and a half away from my hometown for nearly a week. That's probably a schmegshow post of it's own).

Yhen, I ended up in our local ER not long after returning to work from that debacle. My seizures tend to cluster, not necessarily back-to-back, but buy one, get one or two free for the week.

I don't remember anything leading up to that seizure. All i know is they found me in the middle of the road. My EMT coworker said she dumped about 8-12 ounces of blood and clots from the hat i'd been wearing. They dragged me in, but there was a doc i hadn't met before working (imagine that) and she was phenomenal. My sister was there, so the doc stapled me back together, and instead of going through all the CYA CT scans, B.S. and associated radiation, she consulted both of us like real-life, cogent human beings. Satisfied we were glad to leave on our own recognizance, she let us out the door.

... 

I don't know what my stupid problem is - why i'm bound-and-determined to fall most in love with the things i should never do. Kayaking's like surfing though - the rush and sensation are unlike anything else. I figure so long as my friends are fully-cognizant and, if my state is prepared to re-issue a driver's license, after 6 months, i can que será a little kayaking. Right? So... i guess i've been dabbling. Okay! I'm obsessed, i'll admit it! Don't tell my dad!


Kayak surfing in my yellow boat! 

We're posed to have a great runoff this spring. (Naturally.) I'd been getting out at least every-other weekend this winter. So lucky. My love affair with rivers and mountains has been re-kindled in the recesses of my capricious fucking brain.


Then, two Tuesdays ago i was at work. Olive was off somewhere else, ha, so i didn't get the benefit of knowing more than three or four minutes in advance. There was a newer guy sitting at the station directly across from me . I remember standing up with every intention of saying something, then i had a flash of my head splatting on all the surrounding concrete. I sat back down in my tall work stool, but by that time it was too late for me to clearly articulate anything.

My right hand bounced above my thigh. As soon as i felt my body twisting and my arm rising and jerking simultaneously towards the wall, i knew it was over. The twitching on the side of my face surged towards the kinking in my neck. Some moment just after, i yelled and slammed my eye socket into the raw corner of the wooden table behind me. I woke up and my face was warm, my lap was wet and my tongue was freshly hamburgered. There were no fewer than 32 people surrounding me, but thankfully, they let me sign and avoid the costly trip to the Emergency Room.



Lochsa launch ramp - Fish Creek 
It's raining right now. Everyone's going out this weekend. I don't want to make a reckless decision that my friends have to endure for the rest of their lives, (they did invite me, which is really, really nice. And being WFR an swiftwater rescue trained, and from the extent of our discussions, i have to think they fully ascertain the consequences if something did happen.) I don't want to be selfish, but holy Lord i want to go! Gah. Isn't that infantile? I should be counting my blessings for having been able to kayak period, but it's all i can do not to stomp my feet and "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" ala Lucy. I'm thirty this year, but my land, this whole adulting thing is horseshit. I just want to throw a tantrum, run away from home and  go play outside forever.

Our magnificent playground 








4 comments:

  1. It doesn't make you a baby to want to go outside to play. That is just human and so very valid and no, IT IS NOT FAIR and I'm so sorry. Keep writing. You are amazing.

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    1. Thank you. I don't know about that last part. I'm fortunate! I probably spend a disproportionate amount of time complaining. Mea culpa. You're too kind. For reals.

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  2. Thank you for writing about your life with seizures. It helps those of us taking care of our kids who can't talk and express themselves. That being said, I am so sorry that you've been having a go of it and that you've gotten so injured. Epilepsy sucks.

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    1. I can only pray not to misrepresent countless people with seizures who aren't able to speak for themselves. I'm probably the last person who should be granted a public platform for any form of commentary, but lo! I hope to appeal more for general awareness than for pity but, often, fail miserably. Sorry! My face was only superficial abrasions and the table was on casters so the bruising was minimal. Thank you.

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