Pain

Pain, different meanings to different people. Some of us can tolerate a lot of it some of us can tolerate little. There is no set determination of what level each of us feel.

I know, with my prescribed intake of pain medication, I run about a 4.5. (1-10 being what medical professionals deems to be a scale in which they can equally comprehend with the patient.) My father, who wouldn’t dream of taking an aspirin for a headache runs at about a 1. But my dear mother, who is living with lung cancer, must be at about a 9. Taking 40mg Oxycontin, as well as Percocet’s and coming off of a Fentanyl patch, the pain of cancer infiltrating her body must be unbearable. Mentally and physically.

After having numerous back surgeries, I know how it is when you just can’t get comfortable. When any position feels wrong. When the touch of a gentle hand resounds through you’re body like nothing you’ve ever felt.

For me, the worst physical pain I ever experienced was my Kidney Stones. Every little bump in the car on the way to the hospital resounded like screeching fingers along a chalkboard and knives being hurled into my kidney region. This, of course, was a pain I hadn’t been prepared for. Later on, luckily, with my neck and back pain, I was desensitized prior to the imitation of such anguish.

While I think I’ve have more than my fair share of pain in my life, I can’t help but feel so helpless when my mother must endure this agony.

God Bless Demaral!

A Surprise Visitor

So yesterday afternoon, around 4pm, my father told me someone was at the front door asking for me. I wasn't expecting anyone and I knew it must be someone respectable because all my trashy friends use the side door.

I opened the door and there she was. Politely, I asked who she was. It was Judith. My birthmother's high school girlfriend when she was pregnant living in Tuolumne. I hadn't spoken to her is a couple years. I invited her in. Introduced her to my father and we sat down at the dining room table and had a lovely visit. (Luckily, on Sunday, I made an Apple Upside Down cake, so I cut some slices and brewed some tea.

It seems she had driven from Carson City over the "harrowing" Sonora Pass and was on her way to visit her brother in Oakdale. She had swung by Tuolumne looking for her old "homestead".

I was a very pleasant visit. I had felt Judith held me hostage a couple of years ago by not telling me the location of her "homestead". Apparently, she didn't know as it never had an address.

We talked of LindaMom and my visit in May and before I knew it, she was off.

An unlikely, but pleasant visit on a Tuesday. Thank God for upside down apples on Sunday.

Sundays , Sunday

I still hate Sundays. I think it stems from me as a child, an only child. No one is ever around, or at least around me. I always feel self-defeating, never get any thing done and am completely lethargic.

Somehow, I must get over it.

I also think that the reason people get married (or involved) with other people later in life is because no one wants to be alone. It's quite tragic, really.

Just the thought of someone to curl up in bed with, to talk to about current events or even non-current wouldn't be bad. I don't know.

The isolationism of this county has apparently gotten to me. There is no one here. At least no one I can find. Without obvious looking.

I guess this is just my lot in life. I had way too much fun when I was younger that I am paying for it now. Period, end of story.

Life alone at the age of 49.