Totally forgot that I did not, in fact, have therapy today.
My therapist is out of town today, and unlike other times, he can’t still do our phone therapy because his family is dragging him off to some resort way up a mountain where the cell reception is terrible.
Knowing how people feel about their dependence on technology these days, I am betting that for this resort, that’s not a bug, that’s a feature.
“Oh dear, not a place where there’s no cell reception and no WiFi so my family will be forced to get off their goddamned phones and actually look me in the eye when we talk And how will my boss, who doesn’t understand how being on vacation means I can’t solve his problems at work, get ahold of me at all hours, day or night? Darn. ”
It must be so much harder to get away from it all these days, mainly because we carry “it all” around in our goddamned pockets.
And just think, it used to be that all you had to do was go for a rest in the country.
Anyhow, I forgot I had no therapy today. [1] So there I was waiting for that weekly phone call and getting increasingly nervous and tense as the minutes ticked on by.
Then, at 1:17 pm, just when I was gearing myself up to phone Doctor Costin myself (not easy with my Avoidant nature), I suddenly remembered that I would not, in fact, be hearing from him until Friday, the 13th of September.
It’s an easy day to remember, that Friday the 13th of September.
So then I felt dumb, of course. But it’s a familiar kind of dumb, a dumb grounded in my tendency to be very absentminded.
Then, just now, I sat down to eat my lunch, and started looking around for that can of pop I was sure I had just put down on the desk in front of me.
And I looked and I looked but it was nowhere to be found, and I was staring into the face of a flat out Fortean mystery when I suddenly remembered that there was only one can of pop chilled in the fridge so I decided to leave that one to have with supper and therefore the can of pop I was sure I had gotten out of the fridge to have with my lunch was, in fact, a hallucinatory belief.
So I am not having a great brain day.
Meanwhile, on the “Fru makes actual life progress” front, seeing as FlexJobs slammed the door in my face yesterday, I must now turn my attention to Notd.
And not in some flighty, airy, “ooh, I could do THIS or I could do THAT….” kind of way like I have done befoe.
I mean… making actual, executable plans. The kind that require…. decisions.
And decisions are very much my cross to bear. There is something about my highly creative mind that makes it hard for me to pick an option and go with it.
It’s like my mind can’t help but try to go in all directions at once and that, of course, instantly jams the system and I don’t pick anything.
And I know this is somehow linked with creativity. Like that going in all directions at the same time is how my creative mind approaches a novel problem, or something.
But the real bogeyman behind the scenes is, as always, fear. Fear of choosing the “wrong” thing and getting hurt.
But like… who the fuck cares? Make mistakes, get hurt, learn, grow. That’s life.
And I am going to have to make peace with that if I want to more forward.
More after the break.
A bad moment
Brown alert, poop talk ahead.
So, I pooped.
And it was kinda rough. There was definitely some pain on exit. Kind of felt like my poop was covered in broken eggshells. Not good.
But I checked the bowl – no blood – so I added it to the ever growing list of “weird shit (sic) my body does that’s not enough reason to go to the ER” and put it out of my mind.
Until about ten minutes or so later, when I was sitting in front of the computer and a terrible sharp pain shot through me from right in the middle of my guts.
Kind of felt like I was shitting the proverbial brick.
Luckily, it passed through me in about three seconds and I have felt relatively fine every since. But that freaked me out some.
I am worried that something is happening with that umbilical hernia I’ve had forever and that the surgeon didn’t think warranted surgery.
It was a risk versus reward thing. It would have been a pretty deep surgery that would have taken a long and difficult time to recover from in order to repair a hernia that did not seem to be causing any trouble.
I’m worried that the last part of it might have changed.
A lot of my gastrointestinal issues seem to center around a spot directly behind my navel, and that’s exactly where my umbilical hernia is, logically enough, located.
And that’s where the pain I had earlier was located too.
So I dunno. It would make sense if the hernia has gotten worse and has started to push up against everything else in my gut, making the spaces for those things smaller, that this would create both a fecal and a urinary bottleneck that causes issues.
If so, someone might need to finally get around to fixing it. And I really don’t want to have to go through all that. There would be so much pain and so much scariness and so much time stuck in a hospital bed in a hospital ward and there are so very many things that can go wrong and the whole thing scares the bejesus out of me.
So I won’t be sounding a brown alert just yet.
But another incident like the one I had tonight and I will have no choice.
I still kind of feel like I ate peanuts with the shell still on.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.