Saturday, January 3, 2009

Where to start?

I have had a lot of thoughts I've wanted to blog lately.

But I've felt too weak. Too weak to type. And if I have strength to type, there are some other important things I need to type, like support group stuff.

Tonight is no better, but I better give it the ol' college try or another week will pass and I'll have forgotten anything and everything.

My husband has a custom spur-making business (since we are old cowboys). I get to meet the most fascinating people, horse-lovers all, from around the world (I can say truthfully because one pair of our spurs went to France). A particularly nice horsetrainer/clinician called from Oregon a few days ago and we chatted a long time about a variety of ranch-related things.

He wrote to me a couple of days ago with a price question on the spurs he'd like built. We love every order that comes in, and every one is a nice little pick-me-up to the pocketbook. In my mind, I'd replied to his email, a long letter with particulars listed. He called today and asked if I'd gotten his email? I said yes, did he get my reply. No, he had not.

I was quite sure it was HIS computer's fault, not mine, as I looked a tad frantically through my two email programs for his email which would show I had replied. Or my answer to him in my SENT box. Nothing in the Sent box in either program. Ah, there was his email to me and completely unanswered...the little arrow on the envelope to the left of the subject title was missing. I had hallucinated all of that, I guess...glad he called back!

When we first moved here almost two years ago, I was so anxious for one of my dearest friends to come visit me. It was one of the main things that seemed to draw me back to this wonderful state, to be closer to this particular friend. Of course, out West, closer can be factored as five hours apart, which we are.

Finally, she mentioned recently that she and her husband would like to come visit us. I was so thrilled that finally, she'd be seeing my home and I could laugh and visit with her. I told her to come as soon as she'd like, they could stay a night or two, whatever would work for them.

Lately, I have been really bad off. Again, I hate to sound complaining, but like I said in the last post, it is what it is and I can't paint a good face on it right now.

If only there were a way to describe central pain, which emanates from the spinal cord. I thought of a way last night, in the deep throes of this pain. Think of the worst flu you've ever it affects every single fiber or cell of your entire body. Central Pain is like that. It is so diffuse, yet with specific body parts that light up for whatever reasons (crawling scalp; burning arms; itching arms; painful feet and legs, etc) But I can't separate the specific points from the rest of my body because it hurts in every single cell.

Yet, it's not a hurt like I've felt before (except in the last 4.5 years). And I have had some really painful experiences. It's so dang deep, but it's not a "screaming with pain" sort of thing. It's bad pain but the bad part is it's all encompassing, and this wears you out, makes you too weak to think straight.

On New Year's Day, I called my mother and we had a lively visit for 78.5 minutes, my cell phone told me. And I suffered through so much of it with pain in the back of the head, and a very painful throat.

Hanging up the phone, I knew.

I knew I'd have to cancel my friend's longed-for visit. If she lived down the road and could come visit for an hour, great. But all day? Overnight? The next day?

And she really loves to laugh. As do I. As I used to be able to do. But not anymore, or I suffer greatly.

Laughing, talking, singing, it's all connected somehow to the back of the head. And the glossopharyngeal nerve damage I suffered causes the painful throat when talking. Talking and laughing are what this friend and I are ALL about! Asking her not to laugh would be like asking the Israelies not to invade the Gaza Strip right now.

I wrote and told her we must postpone the visit and she was very saddened. As was I. is what it is.

I joined for a brief period a brain-injury support group, though I quit after a week. It was too confusing for me. But one woman said that in order to organize her life, she had to realise what was too much for her, make it smaller or get rid of it. I think she called it "define, diminish and delete."

I had to delete the visit.

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