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laura_seabrookFriday came and went, and I didn't do a missive like a normally do. I was feeling a bit ill, I must confess.
Then again, ever since I had my tooth out about a month ago my mouth had been aching off and on. It had not been a pleasant experience, having the tooth extracted. It took 1 1/2 hours, three needles and then they broke it, so that I had to have surgery to get the remainder out.
Still, these things happen, just like the week after when the Rauni (my car) had a backfire and off the road for a day or so. The mechanic was able to give her a quick fix -- she runs, but not well. And if I run her down to Sydney (which i was planning to do soon) she's going to need more work.
Then came the holiday break from TAFE, which was a pleasant enough two weeks, except that one end of it was Easter, and the other ANZAC day. Traditionally bad things happen to me or my family if we travel around
the Easter weekend. People come down with illness, have accidents or worse. So, despite being ken to go to a Goth Club in Sydney that weekend, I stayed put. The weekend after was Necropolis (the Newcastle club) which I thoroughly enjoyed, and the weekend after that had been Scourge, another club down in Sydney.
On that occasion I'd arranged to meet friends down there, and was taking someone from the Central Coast to it as well. Only, I never got out the door. Come the time, I was all prepared , all dressed up, but when I opened the front door, I felt as week as a kitten, and felt the full brunt of a migraine that'd been building up all day. At the time, I blamed my hairdresser, who'd coughed all over me the day before, and complained that her GP had given her an over-strong flu
shot.
So come last weekend, and I wasn't feeling all that good, I wasn't surprised. I kept on losing energy and feeling absolutely drained at night. And then this morning, well, like my car, I had a backfire.
I got ready and started driving Karl (a fellow student who I car pool with) into TAFE, only I'd forgotten half the stuff was going to take and had to go home to get it. Then just before class, I started feeling a pain in my upper left chest. It wasn't too bad, so I ignored it. Later though, in Dewey class I just couldn't concentrate, which is unusual for me, as I like working in Dewey Decimal. Not today however -- I barely follow what the teacher was saying. And when we returned
the books to next door, the pain came back. I went down to the cafeteria to get an iced coffee, and the pain got worse, really intense. I barely made it back to the classroom. There I just sat down and felt absolutely miserable. The other students noticed, and soon I was being escorted by Karl to the Cafeteria. The teacher and another student came down, and soon security/first aid were there. They couldn't do anything much, but called for an ambulance. The pain was worse, and I was confused and crying and the next few minutes were a blur.
The next thing I remember was being in the Ambulance, heading towards the emergency ward. Once there they x-rayed me, took blood samples and did other tests. Things weren't that bad, but I wasn't feeling too good either. As is standard in emergency wards, I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally the results of the test came back (delayed because
the pathology section of that hospital wasn't operating, so they had to "send out" for tests) -- negative.
Which means I DIDN'T have a heart attack. This is a relief, but I still felt like shit warmed over. I had a phone call from Karl. He and Sharon (another student) were able to feed my pets. My car had been re-parked next to security at TAFE, and the keys would be left for me at my house. At least that was taken care of. Only now I had to get home. I got dressed and discovered that I only had a $1 on me -- 10 cents short of bus fare (hey, I'd expected to drive home that morning). A kindly nurse lent me 50 cents, and I caught a bus to Jesmond shopping centre, where I was able to get to an ATM and then catch a private bus back home to Barnsley.
I'd started getting pains about 9:30am, had been carted off to hospital about 11:30am, and finally got home just after 7pm. What a day. And I still don't know what was wrong with me. They gave me a copy of the test results to take to my GP, but I feel a bit like my car -- a quick fix, but I need something a bit better before I do anything strenuous. Just what the fuck is wrong with me? It didn't feel like a panic attack, and I've had those before. Heart problems run in my family, but it wasn't that, so what was it? A trip to my GP will be the start of answering that question.
So here I am, and while I was in hospital, I got to thinking about DEATH. She likes to play with me, like when I came off my bike the other year. What if it HAD been a coronary? What if I'd died this morning? My pets here would miss me, but wouldn't know what had happened to me, or why I wasn't there. And what would have become of them, without me there? Would Pegasus be put down, and the cats go feral? Would the ducks (who were in the yard and not in their pens) escape and go bush?
Maybe, probably not.
And at a funeral who would cry for me, or drink to my parting life? I know I have friends, many good ones, but few seem close, or those that do, are not close geographically. And that worries me. What if I'd had that attack at home and it had been a coronary. Who would have found the body?
There's no simple or easy answer to this. I've posed this question to myself on more than one occasion, and still have no good answer. Sahmain is all about the passing of things, of things ending, whose time is gone. This time it seems that I'm not one of those to go, but who knows when that will be, and we all pass on sooner or later. And when i was in emergency I though of my father, just after he had his stroke, laying there helpless and afraid, not knowing his fate. And
yet, at the same time I can see the appeal he had of not fighting, of not recovering, of letting others do everything for him.
For that's what happened. He never recovered much from that attack, and in the 2 1/2 years since then, has slowly been wasting away. It stresses my mother more, and yet she is an opposite example. After a heart attack she still battles on, and even mows the lawn herself. Mum doesn't give up, doesn't give in. My maternal grandfather was tough as well -- it took three heart attacks to lay him low.
And I think that if and when it comes to that, and it might, I want to be like my mother and not my father, willing to do my best with what resources I have, because comfort ISN'T the point of life -- the most comfortable people lie six feet under. But endless struggle isn't the way either. On the weekend, I was reading from THE TAO OF WOMEN (Element, ISBN 1-85230-893-1)...
41 RETURN
The wise woman hearing about the Tao begins
to follow the path. The ordinary woman ponders
which road to take. The foolish woman sees only
obstacles in the way.
Some say the path is dark and endless.
The wise woman continues on her journey,
creating light in the darkness and a path where
there was none.
Her footprints mark the way.
Don't know if I'm wise or not, only know that I've got to tread the path...
Then again, ever since I had my tooth out about a month ago my mouth had been aching off and on. It had not been a pleasant experience, having the tooth extracted. It took 1 1/2 hours, three needles and then they broke it, so that I had to have surgery to get the remainder out.
Still, these things happen, just like the week after when the Rauni (my car) had a backfire and off the road for a day or so. The mechanic was able to give her a quick fix -- she runs, but not well. And if I run her down to Sydney (which i was planning to do soon) she's going to need more work.
Then came the holiday break from TAFE, which was a pleasant enough two weeks, except that one end of it was Easter, and the other ANZAC day. Traditionally bad things happen to me or my family if we travel around
the Easter weekend. People come down with illness, have accidents or worse. So, despite being ken to go to a Goth Club in Sydney that weekend, I stayed put. The weekend after was Necropolis (the Newcastle club) which I thoroughly enjoyed, and the weekend after that had been Scourge, another club down in Sydney.
On that occasion I'd arranged to meet friends down there, and was taking someone from the Central Coast to it as well. Only, I never got out the door. Come the time, I was all prepared , all dressed up, but when I opened the front door, I felt as week as a kitten, and felt the full brunt of a migraine that'd been building up all day. At the time, I blamed my hairdresser, who'd coughed all over me the day before, and complained that her GP had given her an over-strong flu
shot.
So come last weekend, and I wasn't feeling all that good, I wasn't surprised. I kept on losing energy and feeling absolutely drained at night. And then this morning, well, like my car, I had a backfire.
I got ready and started driving Karl (a fellow student who I car pool with) into TAFE, only I'd forgotten half the stuff was going to take and had to go home to get it. Then just before class, I started feeling a pain in my upper left chest. It wasn't too bad, so I ignored it. Later though, in Dewey class I just couldn't concentrate, which is unusual for me, as I like working in Dewey Decimal. Not today however -- I barely follow what the teacher was saying. And when we returned
the books to next door, the pain came back. I went down to the cafeteria to get an iced coffee, and the pain got worse, really intense. I barely made it back to the classroom. There I just sat down and felt absolutely miserable. The other students noticed, and soon I was being escorted by Karl to the Cafeteria. The teacher and another student came down, and soon security/first aid were there. They couldn't do anything much, but called for an ambulance. The pain was worse, and I was confused and crying and the next few minutes were a blur.
The next thing I remember was being in the Ambulance, heading towards the emergency ward. Once there they x-rayed me, took blood samples and did other tests. Things weren't that bad, but I wasn't feeling too good either. As is standard in emergency wards, I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally the results of the test came back (delayed because
the pathology section of that hospital wasn't operating, so they had to "send out" for tests) -- negative.
Which means I DIDN'T have a heart attack. This is a relief, but I still felt like shit warmed over. I had a phone call from Karl. He and Sharon (another student) were able to feed my pets. My car had been re-parked next to security at TAFE, and the keys would be left for me at my house. At least that was taken care of. Only now I had to get home. I got dressed and discovered that I only had a $1 on me -- 10 cents short of bus fare (hey, I'd expected to drive home that morning). A kindly nurse lent me 50 cents, and I caught a bus to Jesmond shopping centre, where I was able to get to an ATM and then catch a private bus back home to Barnsley.
I'd started getting pains about 9:30am, had been carted off to hospital about 11:30am, and finally got home just after 7pm. What a day. And I still don't know what was wrong with me. They gave me a copy of the test results to take to my GP, but I feel a bit like my car -- a quick fix, but I need something a bit better before I do anything strenuous. Just what the fuck is wrong with me? It didn't feel like a panic attack, and I've had those before. Heart problems run in my family, but it wasn't that, so what was it? A trip to my GP will be the start of answering that question.
So here I am, and while I was in hospital, I got to thinking about DEATH. She likes to play with me, like when I came off my bike the other year. What if it HAD been a coronary? What if I'd died this morning? My pets here would miss me, but wouldn't know what had happened to me, or why I wasn't there. And what would have become of them, without me there? Would Pegasus be put down, and the cats go feral? Would the ducks (who were in the yard and not in their pens) escape and go bush?
Maybe, probably not.
And at a funeral who would cry for me, or drink to my parting life? I know I have friends, many good ones, but few seem close, or those that do, are not close geographically. And that worries me. What if I'd had that attack at home and it had been a coronary. Who would have found the body?
There's no simple or easy answer to this. I've posed this question to myself on more than one occasion, and still have no good answer. Sahmain is all about the passing of things, of things ending, whose time is gone. This time it seems that I'm not one of those to go, but who knows when that will be, and we all pass on sooner or later. And when i was in emergency I though of my father, just after he had his stroke, laying there helpless and afraid, not knowing his fate. And
yet, at the same time I can see the appeal he had of not fighting, of not recovering, of letting others do everything for him.
For that's what happened. He never recovered much from that attack, and in the 2 1/2 years since then, has slowly been wasting away. It stresses my mother more, and yet she is an opposite example. After a heart attack she still battles on, and even mows the lawn herself. Mum doesn't give up, doesn't give in. My maternal grandfather was tough as well -- it took three heart attacks to lay him low.
And I think that if and when it comes to that, and it might, I want to be like my mother and not my father, willing to do my best with what resources I have, because comfort ISN'T the point of life -- the most comfortable people lie six feet under. But endless struggle isn't the way either. On the weekend, I was reading from THE TAO OF WOMEN (Element, ISBN 1-85230-893-1)...
41 RETURN
The wise woman hearing about the Tao begins
to follow the path. The ordinary woman ponders
which road to take. The foolish woman sees only
obstacles in the way.
Some say the path is dark and endless.
The wise woman continues on her journey,
creating light in the darkness and a path where
there was none.
Her footprints mark the way.
Don't know if I'm wise or not, only know that I've got to tread the path...
