Something, Anything

I thank the Lord for a sound mind and the activity of my limbs. I grew up hearing people say that. It was a common preamble during testimony service, one people would say but rarely have any experience losing either faculty. I know I had my moments during boot-gate 2009 when I lamented my foot jail, sleeping with it, hot muggy days in it, not being able to drive because it was on my right foot, the totally clashing ankle brace I wore for a month after including to a friend's wedding (the one picture I saw-not happy, eyes go right to the ankle). Total bummer. But tonight at the gym (which I badly needed), I was taking a break between sets and thinking of my mother who can't even sit up without assistance. The shoulder presses were hard but not as hard as it is for her to go from the hospital to rehab so she can try to walk again even while she struggles to eat still. A person who has absolutely no expertise in renal patients told my father there was nothing they could do about her inability to eat or keep anything in her she does eat, that's what renal patients to. Total sack of shit community hospital fucking attending physician said that to my father. What. the. fuck. I seriously want to burn the place down--actually I just want to lock him in his car covered in napalm and set him on fire, just him. Tell him that's just what napalm does, nothing I can do about it. My father wrote us devastated. I told him no one is less credible than this attending since Mom's doctor at Hopkins (a diabetic nephrologist-kind of an expert at this) kept hunting for this thing that has ailed her since the transplant and made it really hard to stay healthy. Same thing with her less competent current nephrologist. Never said what was going on with her was normal. Kept trying to figure out what it was. My god. Every vet I've ever met is leaps and bounds better than any medical doctor I've ever met. That's what's wrong with healthcare. Not a damn thing caring about it.

So I started this post intending to speak of how lucky I am to have the activity of my limbs, that I dug deeper tonight knowing my Mom is struggling far harder than I am with a bicep curl. I'm conflicted about what to do next. A part of me says stop everything, go home, stay until everything is better. Or stay until...until what? I stayed until the transplant, now I wish we hadn't done it. This is just a very hard time. I've been short with friend and foe alike. A person I do not like is coming into our office tomorrow and I'm not sure I'm going to make it without saying something inappropriate. My mother said she understood how people become addicted to drugs when I saw her last weekend. They had to give her morphine for her pain and she felt so good after, she said she wished she could always feel that way. This is a woman who wouldn't take tylenol after her hysterectomy. Seriously God, coming through with that healing would be pretty great and well-timed right now.

We're all coping or not coping in our own way. I'm trying to use exercise but I do feel often like none of this matters and I should just invite either one of the worthless guys I knew over just to have the company and distraction. I just want something else to think about before I go to bed and wake up in the morning and throughout the day. I want something good to happen.