For the 3rd time in 4 years, my puffalupugus has gone on strike, as well as several other unhappy organs. I was admitted to the ER on Thurday, May 12, and by Friday the 13th my flibbertigibbets had quit working, too, rendering it difficult to pee. They tell me my eyes were bulging from the excess/lack of calcium and my hands were cramping from the excess/lack of potassium. Ick. I was on a lot of morphine, so I wasn’t clear about a lot of what what going on. I just know that Friday the 13th isn’t a good day to go into the ICU… but hey, when is?
The first time this happened to me in 2001, I spent 3 weeks hospitalized and scared myself right back into a fresh pack of cigarettes, a life of lethargy, and eventually also a whole lotta wine. Last year it happened again, and I was relatively unfazed… I really tried hard not to let it interfere with my regular social life. This year, mmmm…not so much.
BIG wake up call. Strangely, I feel relieved and incredibly happy. I know there are changes coming that I can handle just fine, and I know that there are many other changes which I will instigate for myself. But I do have a much clearer picture of what I want my life to look like right now, and I think for the moment, that’s a really good start.