h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

In this lifetime.

The Idea!

I'll figure out how to get my head around this one before I call my parents and friends with the news. Oddly, I'm much more concerned about having to *tell* people, to deal with emotional reactions, both theirs and mine, than I am about what my immediate and extended future might hold. I already pretty much knew that I was unlikely to have the best-of-all-possible diagnoses,(Ugly Mole, glad it's gone). And, having looked at some cancer websites lately I already knew that Ugly Mole was doing an incredibly polished and complete impersonation of Flourishing Melanoma. So it's not a surprise.

Now it's just a matter of how to manage this event correctly. So far everything has been put beautifully in place. I'm extraordinarily fortunate in this.
1) I moved from stress zone to ParadiseII
2) Brother lives nearby, and not only that, he's a surgeon and his fiance is a midwife. So they *know* about stuff and have been able to help me in ways very few uninsured people have available to them.
3) Moffitt Cancer Center is nearby, just a couple miles from my brother's place. Now I have a pathological diagnosis I can proceed through them, even without insurance. They have a very good reputation.
4) I practice Buddhism and am comfortable with the idea of life and death being a continuum rather than endpoints on a finite line, so the 'being dead' concept isn't deeply worrying. I'm more worried about all the projects-in-limbo, to be honest. I don't *like* the idea of leaving all those things undone. So I'd better get bustin' on 'em, just in case this game plays out more speedily than I'd been anticipating a month ago. Now THAT'S a good outcome, no matter what happens with the bod. I'm lazier than I like to be, sometimes.
5) Well, I *said* that when I moved I was going to take my practice to the next level. Not sure I was thinking about doing it *this* way, but in any case I've been presented with an excellent tool towards self-development so I'll just use it that way. *ahem* That is a determination, in writing. I always have worked better under pressure, anyway.
6) It'll all be ok, whatever happens next.

I still dread telling my more emotional peeps.
1) PLenty of people survive melanoma.
2) Our family has 100% survival rate from supposedly fatal cancer in people younger than 50, so I'll just carry on the trend. (My bro was supposed to die of a rare cancer before he hit adolescence, instead he's helping me out with mine, so that's a valid statistic in Britta's World.)
3) Moffitt is GOOD at what they do.
4) I'm GOOD at what I choose to do, and I will choose to bring together the finest in medical care, explore alternative health options, and chant like ze sonovabeetch for positive outcomes. That'll about cover the bases, I think. As to the rest, well, *nobody* knows what tomorrow will hold. That's no different for me, just I have a heightened awareness of it right now.



The last time I did this was when I parted ways with Blaise 3 years ago. I did the same thing, wrote it out, cried a little, looked at *what was*, at the things I'd been dreaming towards, and set some goals that I've achieved over the past 3 years. My mom and dad sent me a congratulations card when I moved here, it says this:
"...at last the ladder,
which had been built
slowly, slowly,
one hope at a time,
reached up to the clouds.
And the dreamer began to climb."

Funny, because it's only now, since I've moved, that I felt like I had everything in place to make it HAPPEN. And I shall. The Blaisequake led to a Great Adventure. I think this one shall too. And if I start to feel victimized by my circumstances I'll come back and read this journal and do what I need to. Because shit'll inevitably happen, but I'm pretty clear right now.

(I still don't know how to talk to my mom, though)

I have admired your self assurance and positive views on changing and getting on with life.

I think they will continue to comfort and nourish you through this.

Just because you are strong doesn't mean you could not use some extra good wishes and strength. If it helps any,if it's at all possible, you are in my thoughts of strength and peace.

It is hard to tell folks that care about you there is a threat.

Bet you will win this battle!

I like your way of thinking and acting. Very encouraging.

I'll come back to this journal to get inspiration for my own life.

I love the phrase from the card. Quite a vision. Was there any more to it? ie more text?

I would love to see ze chanting like ze sonnoffabeetch. Maybe you'll teach me one day.

Rest and recoup bebe.

XX

*chokes*

Sorry, I can't deal with this

Thanks for all the kind thoughts, everyone. I've got it pretty much sorted, left a message with Moffitt Center this morning to get that ball rolling. Talked to some of my friends last night after polishing off a bottle of wine, they were all quite pragmatic, only one was ... almost offended ... by the fact that I might not be immortal. I guess I had him convinced.

Today I'll tell my folks. Was trying to justify weaseling out of it for a few days until I had a plan of action mapped out with the cancer center to soften the blow, divert attention from the diagnosis. My brother convinced me that dragging it out is not a kindness at all, any more than it would have been had he waited til next week to give me the lab results. Wondering is worse than knowing for sure. They'll 'wig out' (his medical term for it) and then they'll deal with it.

Meanwhile, this thing is only a flesh wound. And it's healing quite nicely. No need to treat it as anything more than a prompt to GET OFF MY BUTT and get some work done.

Alex, I'll teach you to chant when you visit. It's especially nice at the beach. And GB, don't worry. I'll be fine.

Now off to edit pics of my nepphie. He's SUCH a brilliant lad.

I'm so glad you have people around who care.

I'm so glad I have people around who care, and that includes y'all. I'm very lucky to have family here and also have friends who have told me to just call and they'll be here in 4 hours. Doesn't get much better than that.

So, talked to my parents a bit ago.



Mom kept her wits about her, wobbly but not broke, for which I'm thankful. I have a feeling my brother got the 'wigging out' effect after she talked to me. I would have lost it if she had. My focus is on staying positive, looking for the good stuff in this muck. I was pretty clear on that point. Selfish, I know, but just right now I can't easily process a bunch of gloom and doom and 'what ifs'. And hopefully it does no harm to the parents to have to think about the good stuff latent in this event.



My dad called. I babbled at him, probably longer than I ever have. He's glad I'm feeling positive. I'm not sure what he thought of my idea that *this* is what it takes to make me a serious, (*snort*) financially productive artist. Yeah, I've already figured out how to work this angle to get what I was chanting towards when I left Fort Lauderdale. Kinda creepy, but life works that way sometimes. My dad is very stoic. I've no idea what he thought of me saying he practices a kinda stoic, perfectionist buddhism because I kept rambling. He offered to help me financially if I need it, gave advice on how to manage my few assets. My poor dad, I don't know what he'll do to process this thing. I hope it doesn't make him hurt too bad. He's used to being able to fix problems rationally, and with resources.

My brother told me my dad's comment was "two for two." Ouch. This thing is going to raise all sorts of ghosts in our family, stuff that's never been disturbed since the time my brother survived supposedly fatal cancer and my parents deemed us both too young to be told what was going on. I guess that's a karmic pustule set to burst about now. (karma is not a punishment, btw, just a cause/effect relationship). In a sense it'll be really difficult dealing with both events at one time, all as adults (quantum weirdness strikes again) on the other hand it'll certainly bring great fortune to our family. Not everyone gets such an opportunity to work through murky, underwater, vineyclinging stagnant stuff so directly. I don't think I'd want to be my brother in this situation. He's a doctor. I'm also his sister. Bizarre blend of approaches.

You'll be in my prayers tonight

All of you

*sigh*
Today was rough. (Annie, this one's not for you to read. I'm whiney.)

Tonight I lost it in a way I haven't for about a decade or so, last I recall. There are times when looking at everything in terms of symbols is NOT helpful, today was one of them.

I've been doing awesome, getting so much done in terms of disciplined art work, really enjoying my life, pottering in my garden (I have sooooo many herbs beginning to flourish now, three types of mint, about five types of basil, all sorts of wonderful nibbleables and then flowers! Gorgeous patches of color that'll survive in such a jungly shade. )I've been reading, beginning to practice supplemental eastern healing rituals to help along whatever the doctors here finally decide is the best course of treatment for me. My friend came to visit a few days and it was lovely to have some company here.

So today.

I had my first day back at work this month and it was stellar. Just as I was running around this morning transforming myself from hippie-wench to CHANEL empress the apartment manager showed up with three tree surgeons to "trim back" the foliage around the walls of my place so they can do the termite tenting next week. I reminded them to be gentle, as I *love* my oasis jungle.

So, tonight I come home in a rainstorm. As I walked to my front door I saw that the walkway, which had been shady and alive and mobile was ... almost shaved. I came onto my patio and my beautiful, dappled jewel of a garden has been whiped out! My vineyard tree is trimmed back to resemble an overgrown bonsai and everything else is just....gone. Bare, ugly, corrugated walls now face my patio where I live. I dread seeing what it's like when the midday sun glares down and just turns everything into an oven. Behind that big, sliding glass door that my bed overlooks (which used to be rock garden and very cool trees) is now a giant dirt pile which will be left there until sometime in September because the plumbing "is more involved than thay'd originally thought" when they dug the GODDAM TRENCH in July and now nothing can be done til the owner gets back from his extended vacation with his buddies in Europe. AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGH!
I HATE THAT GODDAM TRENCH AND DIRT PILE!!!!!! It's dun gefucked up my fung shui for a month already! BE DONE WITH IT!

*sigh*

Ya know, I worked so hard on making this place juuuuuust right, like the baby bear place. I've spent waaaaay more getting it 'home' than I sensibly should have, but I felt very strongly (as I was knowing without verification) that I was in for some interesting times with Ugly Mole and I just wanted a beautiful, warm and vital creative place to ...develop, make myself safe, be healthy and productive and unthreatened and fill it with the sparkly bits of and color that define Britta's World. Because I had a strong feeling that a lot of important stuff was going to go out of my control in the near future, and I wanted *something* stable.

I came home, was kinda stunned at what was instantly obvious. I just went and hid in bed for a while with a book, but then something was banging outside, so I had to view the rest of the massacre. Almost every damned tree is chopped to a stump, almost level with the earth. They didn't even leave a *trunk* for new branches to sprout from eventually. The trenchside of my yard now has not one *single* bit of greenery left. Not only does it look hideous with nothing but dirt, trench and rickety-ass fence, that's the west-facing side that takes all the sun. So now it'll probably cost twice as much to cool my place as it did when the wall was shaded. Yep, I need to worry about bigger electric bills when I don't even know IF I'LL BE ABLE TO CONTINUE WORKING AS I HAVE!

Arrrrrrgh. So, it's been an awful day. I haven't cried like this for years. I see all this upgefucked wanton devastation of what was wonderful living foliage this morning when I left and...my heart just cringes. I try to keep things in perspective. After all, there are people in Iraq, in Lebanon, for whom the loss of some greenery would rightfully seem an incredible indulgence in self pity. But still, it leaves *me* feeling exposed, threatened. In terms of *my* life, *my* environment, it really sucks. (reading that I'm soooo tempted to delete, because I *do* get it that I'm being waaaaay overdramatic in the Big Scheme Of Things. But, in St. Petersburg, in Britta's World it *is* a big deal.) So I guess I'm kinda feeling some of the numb ache that I can't allow myself to feel (or I'd have to bury myself in the trench) about the way people interact with each other in the world, they way they think in terms of body counts, in stead of in terms of people, friends, family, the folks who weave the tapestry of each others' lives.

And my poor, surgically removed trees. Ya know, it's weird. Those tree-murdering guys took care about what they were doing, in their own ruthless way. They didn't leave tree trimmings or leaves or woodchips or mess behind for me to have to deal with. It was CLEAN! Obviously these guys were doing their best to not inconvenience me any more than they felt was absolutely necessary. Just, they and I have differing ideas about what is and isn't necesary. So now I live in this weird, ugly stump-land. Trenchland. Great-pile-of-dirt-that-makes-everything-constantly-filthy land. I feel as if I'm living on a construction site, or a vacant lot where things are just not tended to. I thought that awful feeling was over when I left that shithole in Fort Lauderdale and moved to magical Crescent Lake.

One of the things that I also don't allow myself to worry about too deeply is the fact that melanoma is a disease? condition? I dunno. EVIL SPACE ALIEN INVASIVE BODYSNATCHER BARSTID THAT'S *TRYING* to mess with my life. *ahem* Anyway, melanoma is usually managed through surgeries. Which is cool. Unless you end up like my Onkel Gerd who's had so many 'things removed' that he looks like a mutant now.
I'm a CHANEL girl! That won't WORK!
I'm a (practicing as opposed to perfect)Buddha and appearance is all an illusion, anyway. And it's how you USE things that matters, right? Life will never present you with more than you're able to overcome, right?

Can you feel me kinda oscillating into a frenzy of input overload about now??

So, at least there's humor. That saves me from myself most of the time. It makes others kinda queezy when I'm on a serious roll of self-salvation (Sistah, be SAVED!) So, all that potential disabling, disfiguring surgery (that might never be necessary, so why are you living in it NOW?????
and my head sees that Monty Python sketch. The killer rabbit.

It's only a flesh wound! *spit*
*WHAP* 'nuther limb goes flyin'
HAH! It's ONLY a flesh wound!
(chant)(chant)(chant)
*SLASH* It's only a FLESH wound.
(chant)(chant)(chant)
*meatgrinder til there's nothing left but a head and neck on a skateboard with a hydraulic lift to raise and lower, with paintbrushes in the teeth*
IT'S ONLY A FLESHWOUND YOU SUNOVABEETCH BARSTID, now let me do what I need to do with my life.

I have the sick urge to make a cheesy lil movie of that. I can just see the missing'limbs' as a stack of my beloved tree limbs. And I'll probably never *make* that movie, but I can see it in my head.

Anyway, now I've put this raw,empty ache somewhere so it's not gonna stay in my head and fester. And I'll figure out the good stuff in having A GODDAM DESERT (cue the violins, that's a *slight* overexaggeration) where my beautiful jungle oasis used to be.

1) I can grow more varieties of flowers with more sun.
2) I can grow more veggie crops (tomatos and peppers and strawberries and maybe even beans and peas and stuff here) without shade.
3) If we have a hurricane I don't have to worry about cleaning up or dealing with much tree debris.

Damn, I hope I don't have another over-the-edge day like today for another decade.

Hmmm
If you want instant greenery, how about a camoflage net. We have one over our very bright and garish Spiderman climbing wall. How about some gorgeous pots/tubs and/or hanging baskets. Would they survie in your heat?

Would you be allowed to paint some murals? Or you could even get some large boards so that you could have detachable murals so landlord could no complain.

About the dirt.............hmm..............I expect you have to leave that like it is until the work is done but other than that...erm......fake grass stuff or matting or gravel.....I'll keep thinking about that one.

Up and down here. Poor SoRB is having to deal with me bein very unsettled. He's an absolute wonder though

Love to you

Alex

Thanks for your suggestions, Alex.

I came down off the emotional meltdown today, started thinking more reasonably about what I can do to make this work rather than be a victim of the tree murderers. Anyway, my place is suddenly *much* hotter than it was, by 9 am it felt like a normal noon in there (hard to breathe, rivers of sweat, because all of a sudden the walls and interior are getting direct sunlight where they've never had it before so it's more than cosmetic. That's a real problem. However I *d0* live in the tropics and some stuff grows at an incredible rate here. I'm going to suggest to the apt. manager that as soon as the termite-tenting is done they need to plant some ultra-quick-growing vines on the east- and west-facing walls and that'll at least make some impact on the brand new oven I'm renting. A couple of decent-sized trees can be planted so it doesn't look so raped here, eventually my smaller plants will grow.

I was considreing painting something on the garage wall that faces my patio but.... nah. The absolute beauty of the place was that it was so full of living stuff and lizards you hardly noticed the manmade bits. No matter how nice a painting I made it would be kinda like graffiti on that corrugated metal. That's not how I want to live.

I'm going to have her cover the dirt with plastic at least. That way it'll quit blowing in through the screens and making this place filthy.

It'll be ok once I figure it out. I think that whole 'what happens when the surgeons get their cutters on you with an idea that they're doing what needs to be done' just flipped me out with the visual impact. And the fact that I invested so much in making Britta's World juuuuust riiiiight and it feels as if every time I go to work someone sneaks in and trashes something else I cared about. It's frustrating and disheartening after a few incidents in a row.

This has got to STOP! AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGH!

I am definitely not in buddha mode right now. This is not healthy.

RANT:
ok. What the hell is going on here that I'm surrounded by well-meaning people who are theoretically trying to help me and make things better but their *actions* and lack of follow-through are making things infinitely worse?

Moffitt center. They're sooooo nice on the phone. Thing is, we seem to be stalled at the point where I gave them my financial info over a week ago and I've had no next-step communication since. Yolanda explained, when she got back from *her* vacation, that the reason I've heard nothing this past week is that the next-step office worker was on *her* vacation, so nothing has been done. But I should hear from her by Thursday or Friday and things can proceed.

Well. It's Saturday. No calls.

Now, this wouldn't matter if it were just me being impatient to get stuff rolling. Problem is, and the *reason* my brother was so reluctant to do the initial surgery is that when you cut into melanomas it kinda stirs 'em up and can send the cancer cells to other areas of the body, so you just don't DO that. He wouldn't cut the thing off until I *promised* that I'd get things taken care of immediately because medically it's better to leave the damned things on than to stir 'em up. So now it's two weeks since the surgery, we *know* from the lab report that there were positive edges and another surgery is necessary, and I HAVE NO FARKING CLUE WHETHER MOFFITT CENTER WILL EVEN HELP ME! Because people *do* take their vacations. And that's ok. I just kinda wish I'd known that August is the month where nothing will happen there so I could have postponed having surgery and potentially sending this cancer into overdrive. *sigh*

And there's that OTHER underlying thing. I *might* have these things sprouting all over me, and well on their way to killing me, which woiuld kinda mean that I need to readjust my priorities about NOW. Three years ago my doctor referred me to a determatologist because she didn't like the looks of Ugly Mole. So I went. He eyeballed all my spots and bumps. He told me they were all normal. He told me not to worry about Ugly Mole unless it turned black. He told me it would get bigger and uglier, but it was fine unless it turned black. So. All this time, whenever people tell me I need to have that mole looked at I parrot the good doctor's pronouncement. Thing is, I spent some time on the internet last week looking into melanoma. I googled up pages of images. The majority of the google melanomas look remarkably like mine. They're not black. The cancer websites have 4 warning signs: asymmetry, size, mottled coloration, rasised edges. Those are the things that point to Ugly Moles being dangerous. Well, *my* Ugly Mole met each and every one of those criteria three years ago when I went to the dermatologist to have it looked at, back when I had insurance. No *wonder* my regular doc referred me to a specialist. Humph. He didn't take the thing off and have it labbed, just to make sure. He could have. He told me if I wanted it off I'd have to pay out-of-pocket as it was a 'cosmetic' matter rather than a medical matter. My doc *told* me he could have taken it off anyway and sent it to the lab. She asked me which dermatologist I saw and when I gave his name she said he was a good one. *sigh* He *looked* at it with a magnifying glass. And look where I am now with it. That's not goog doctoring.

So. Ugly Mole is actually melanoma. Might have been melanoma for at least 3 years (that was about the time it started looking weird rather than being a normal brown spot). Now, what about all my *other* spots and bumps that I was told were normal?
and


I can figure out a way to deal with it if they are melanomas too. I'm having difficulty dealing with NOT FARKING KNOWING ANYTHING, not being able to schedule an appointment with a doctor (and as far as I know, no Moffitt doctor has even seen my pathology report because stuff is sitting on paper-pushers' desks while they're on vacation. That really kinda sucks. And there's not a damned thing I can do about it. Because that's the way The System works. heh. And, seeing as I have no money or insurance and am basically hoping that Moffitt Center will help me out even though I *can't* pay going rates for medical care, I'm not really in a position to get nasty about their System just because it's not working so well for me right now. *sigh*

And then there's work. CHANEL wants to book me up for the season. They've got their budget, have figured out where they want me, what kinda events will happen through January. COOL! Jose told me he has *lots* of work for me. COOL!

Just.... I have one little problem. I HAVE NO FARKING CLUE what kinda schedule I can reasonably commit to, because I know I have at least one more surgery in my near future, and I know it'll be much bigger and deeper than the other was, so I probably won't feel up to bouncing off to work the next day or so. I don't know how many times I'll have to go to Moffitt for labby stuff or paperwork or whatever they need me for, because I don't even know what kinda things they'll need me for. I *do* know that when you're asking an organization to keep you alive at their expense, you can't really get all picky about scheduling for your own, personal convenience. But it would be nice to talk to someone about my work situation and see what's the best thing to do. Perhaps Moffitt could *try* to schedule stuff Mon and Tues, I could keep those days open and accept work bookings for the ends of the weeks. BUT I DON'T FARKING KNOW. Maybe they do all their charity stuff on Fridays. I NEED TO KNOW HOW THIS WORKS! If I start having to cancel bookings that are planned around me being there.... hmmmmm. A *couple* cancellations because I have cancer to manage won't destroy my career. But, I'm not firmly established on this coast yet. The reps here don't have the experience that I'm totally reliable, so more than a couple of shakeups that mean *they* have to scramble to find a replacement for me will just mean that they'll find it easier to hire someone else and do it once than to deal with me, no matter *how* good I am. That's reality in this biz. And if I have to cancel on a prima donna drama queen (and yes, there *are* a few in cosmetics) I could end up with some vindictive rep running around trashing my name and telling everyone in the area to make sure never to hire me because I'm not reliable. That would suck. So I really need to have some kinda clue what kinda schedule I can reasonably accept, and I need to know now. Or I need to win the lottery.

WHY MUST EVERY SIMPLE GODDAM THING BE SO DIFFICULT?

Lastly, my apartment. It's not the end of the world what's going on here. It just sucks. WHY did they have to dig that goddam trench and make the goddam dirt pile three weeks ago if they're not going to address the plumbing problems til sometime in September?

?????

Because someone just kinda didn't have their shit together, that's why. And I'm the one who has to live with it until they *get* their shit together.

WHY did they have to brutalize my beautiful garden while I was at work?

Because they want to make it *easy* for the termite tenters, so they can just drop those tents and scoot, rather than have to take a bit of extra time and care so their tents don't get torn. That's why. So, rather than maybe spend an extra hour or two on labor, my place is totally altered. And I'll be the one who has to live with it, and figure out a way to adapt. THAT FARKING SUCKS!

ok. Rant over. I've put it all here. Now it needs to stay here and not creep back into my head.

It's time to chant now.

I had such a mole removed last year, I'm not sorry I did.

I weep for your gardenand the blow to your privacy and contentment.

Sending you happy thoughts and good vibes. I'll make a wish of the Cosmos too.

Note: this journal entry will be troubling because I am deeply broken right now. A piece of me feels suicidal, I don't think that's where I'm going to go so don't worry, y'all. I've just gotta put it somewhere because I don't know how I'll get through the weekend if I don't get it out.

I haven't felt this way for years. No energy for howling, rage, ranting, nothing. I feel nauseous my eyes are burning and leaking and I feel as if an apple is stuck in my throat. My mind feels all buzzy, electrified in an unpleasant way. I guess this ongoing stress has just deleted me for the time being. Maybe I'm pumping out so many stress chemicals I'm high right now, or semi-anesthetized, or something. I don't know what it is. It scares me though, because I'm sure this physical reaction is bad for me on a big-scale, long-term karmic way and I don't know how to make it stop.

So, another bizarre week behind me. Work has been AWESOME, the new account (Elizabeth Arden) loves me. I've done very well and they've treated me very well in return. I've been working non-stop since the 17th, was really looking forward to my weeekend off Sun and Mon.

It's a holiday weekend, Labor Day. I was expecting houseguests. This is the last weekend I have off this year except for my brother's wedding. I miss my friends. Though I don't need much contact with others, lately all the *stuff* going on has left me really aching to be around someone who *knows* me, someone who gives a shit about me, human contact where I don't have to be 'on' and where I can talk to people who care enough to listen to me be fearful, or silly, or rant or whatever, and who could give me a hug and tell me it'll be ok. So this was supposed to be a lovely weekend. I invited several people, could have been a slumber party, fabulous barbeque, good time, then back to dive into the heavy work season and surgery and cancer management. *sigh*

Well, that's not what's gonna happen. I thought my place was bad when they massacred the trees and had the trench and dirt pile. heh. This week they dug up the entire rest of my yard. That's not hyperbole. I have yellow caution tape strung all over the yard. Can't open my gate or any of the doors from my living area. Can't grill, which means can't cook proper meals. I don't cook inside the inner sanctum since it would make my clothes and bedding all reek of food. That's why I've been loving grilling all the time. My place is totally filthy, no sense in even trying to clean because every day of digging just stirs up another layer of dirt and filth. I gave up a couple weeks ago, figured I'd just get it done once the destruction is over. I don't have the... desire to continually pound my head against a wall for nothing, keep having everything I try to do here to keep it livable undone. It's pretty bad here.

Wed. the joke of Ernesto made the plumber decide not to come. Made sense as we were *expecting* rain. It just didn't rain, is all, so a day of work lost. Yesterday the guys busted butt digging and demolishing. Today the plumber didn't show up. I came home to caution tape and trenches. Again. Now I'm stuck living with this mess until Tues or whenever they decide to show up and finish it. hi ho. It's a beautiful holiday weekend for me, ain't it? I'm soooooo glad I took this weekend off so I could enjoy my friends and life before season. hi ho. Turns out the guys don't really know *why* they had to dig up the rest of my yard, in fact. There were no problems in that stretch of pipe, though one day it would need replacing as it's old. I guess the owner just decided to get it all over with at once, save himself some money and future problems. Makes sense, doesn't it? Especially since *I'M* the only one being inconvenienced. heh. inconvenienced. THEY KNEW I WAS EXPECTING FRIENDS. I TOLD THEM MORE THAN 2 WEEKS AGO HOW IMPORTANT IT WAS THAT I HAVE EVERYTHING BACK TO *NICE* FOR THIS WEEKEND! Instead it's trashed worse than ever.

I'm becoming really scared about next week, too. There's no way they'll have all the destruction and reconstruction done soon. On Wed. I'm going to the Moffitt Center for my first visit, get the financial stuff done, appointment with the doctor, schedule surgery and learn what the plan of action is. He usually does surgeries on Fridays. What if I have a huge hole in me and have to live in this filth? The infection in the last surgery was bad enough. What happens if they make the big, deep removal and then go rooting and exploring up my arm looking to take out the lymph nodes? My sister in law warned me that might be the case. I'd have drains in and all sorts of complicated stuff, stuff that neds to stay clean. If I have major surgery, how am I supposed to heal in a dirt pit, dealing with the constant comings and goings of the maintenance fellas? I have no privacy here, no need as my *place* was private. But I have 16 feet of sliding glass doors, no curtains, won't even be able to stay in bed in a nightie without those guys looking in at me. They're sweet fellas, but not people I want to be that intimate with.

I'm not used to feeling scared. I'm not used to feeling powerless like this, and.... kinda abused by default. Nothing personal, ya know, I'm just collateral damage. And it seems that the more I try to explain to the manager and now owner why I *need* them to quit this destruction and put things back, the worse it gets. But still, there's no real animosity. I'm sure the manager is tired of hearing me gripe now, but she aslo *got* it when I reminded her that THIS IS NOT MY FARKING PLUMBING PROBLEM! I *had* no problem. It's all for the place next to mine. Sorry that it's costing them $4000 to get the stuff fixed, BUT THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME!

The owner decided to reduce my rent (paid today) by $250 for the 'inconvenience' of the past month. HAH! Buddy, that don't cut it. I had to leave home for 3 days 2 nights for the termiting. I spent *hours* bagging and then unbagging all consumable items. I was farking frantic that morning because I was to meet the Arden rep for the first time, and instead of , oh, chanting, being peaceful, going for my bike ride, working on my projects, I was shaking and freaking out and *furious* that my LIFE was being wasted that way. The cat was traumatized, again. I had to leave her at their rental office. She hid under some towels the whole time, apparently. She's back to licking obsessively and puking all over the place. O joy. And I spent the couple of nights with Quintin, and he was so frazzled and weary from his own stresses that I felt like an invader, though he was totally gracious. And instead of the 10 minute commute from home I had to drive to and from Tampa, and deal with insane traffic and rain. And it was expensive, too. Aside from the gas, I felt obligated to take Quintin for dinner, fun, but $73 that I can ill afford right now. But that was last week, new traumas for this week. *sigh*

And now this *special* holiday. Friendless. Filthy. The yellow tape is like a crime scene, and in a way it *feels* like one, to me. I'm feeling like a victim. I HATE THAT! I DESPISE people who wallow in victimhood. And right now, just right now, I can't even think what I would say to some poor slob like me, and I'm *always* soooooo full of (something) good advice for other people. humph. But.... I can't even *imagine* hanging out here at home this weekend, though I have plenty to do. It's just too depressing to see this shit all around me. And, the way this place is set up, there's no place I can go to hide from it, either. Unless I rent a shitload of movies and spend days in bed, and THAT might push me right over the edge. I shall have to escape, shall have to eat out since I can't cook anything decent, and it'll all cost me a bundle. GODDAMMIT! This is like a trap.

The weird thing is that I don't *know* what it's supposed to mean, in regard to my life. Your environment is a reflection of yourself. well.... it's plain weird. I'm not having personal, interaction-type difficulties with *anyone*, which is where things'll usually go awry. This is just stuff, kinda like hurricanes or car wrecks, nothing personal. Cosmic corkage, almost comical in it's absurdity if it weren't *me*, if it weren't my sense of stability, safety that's being threatened. The analogy is sooooo obvious, though. I wanted to change my life. I wanted to make sure I'm not bringing the 'shit' along from south Florida. heh. And current manifestation (after termites invisibly gnawing away at the structure) is plumbing. Trenches dug, those nasty old tar-paper pipes exposed. Nice, bright white pvc pipes partially installed, but...status interruptus. Again.

I shall have to think on that one. But right now I must finish building the statue for the play. I'm sculpting an Oscar award, it must be complete tomorrow before I go to work. He's kinda cute, turned out bulkier than a real one, Oscar on steroids. I only have to finish his lower half, bake him (he's Sculpey), paint him and attach him to the base I built. This thing had better go without any hitches. I really cannot handle any more thwartedness today. But I do feel somewhat less despairing now. That dead feeling was creepy.

I'm not surprised you're feeling so upset - it all seems to be going wrong at the moment. Well at least Lizzie Arden loves you and you have your sense of humour intact - though it seems you were holding onto that by the last inch for a while there.

Is there any way those people could give you somewhere else to stay temporarily while all this dirty disruption is going on? It seems downright unfair to make you live in the middle of it. And the compensation they've offered so far really isn't enough.

You know that when all this disruption is over, and the health stuff's been dealt with too, it's going to be fine again. You've just got to keep holding on in the meantime.
Try NOT to think of the big picture - that's what gets all those stress hormones wheeching around and making you feel worse. Deal with one issue at a time if you can.

When I get overwhelmed - I have an imaginary lead-lined box into which I mentally put all the stuff I want to stop thinking about. I imagine placing the 'whatever' into that box, locking it and then putting the box in a cupboard. It helps me to feel in control again - and it can always come out later when I'm ready to deal with it.

Cyber s

I have just written an entry on Jane Tomlinson, who has just cycled across your continent. If you need inspiration, I'll give you the link. A14027870

*joins the cyber*

ps
I do realise there's a major flaw in my Black Box solution.
If the stuff's sitting right outside your window it is rather difficult to ignore it


Jane Tomlinson is a truly inspirational woman.
If she can push herself physically with all the problems she has - I can drag my lardy ar*e to the gym once in a while.

Thanks, y'all. I'm feeling better this morning. Managed to finish the Oscar, he's a doozy.

GB, that was the perfect inspiration for me. Thank you. There's a weird split in my mind when I'm in the middle of going over the edge emotionally. I can *see* how pathetic I'm being, and I know it's not who I want to be. I am also stuck in the moment and in the despair. Oddly, I'm not really worrying much about the cancer. It's the state of my home that's had me fluctuating between rage, desolation and then just trying to laugh it off, use it as a buddhist Obstacle, and get on with things. I dunno. Maybe that's what the destruction is for, so I can learn not to give a shit about anything, just keep on taking more and more and more, and when I think it really *can't* get worse, and then I go to work and come home to 'wanna bet it can't get worse? Watch this' In any case, whatever this is about, I *can't* continue to get so overwrought every week. I truly *do* believe that the chemicals I'm pumping when I'm like that are killing me, feeding the cancer. So somehow I've gotta quit. Reading articles like yours, GB, that really helps put things back into perspective and it reminds me of who I want to be.

Teuchter, I have one of those boxes too! It helps. I think maybe tonight when I get home from work I shall perform a ritual cleansing. I'll ride my bike to the bay for late afternoon and sunset, take along a nice piece of parchment and calligraphy pen and ink and write down all the stuff--the attachments-- that I'm clinging to which are hurting me. Then I can burn the thing ansd scatter the ashes. Maybe that'll help.

A friend of mine called late last night. Her condo is *still* being repaired from the hurricanes last year. She had no insurance and the roof went, so it's been a long, expensive and painful process of reconstruction for her. I think she still has most of her clothes and belongings in plastic storage bins because the plaster, dust, etc. would otherwise ruin everything. Her advice for me:
1) Don't think about the Big Picture. When they piss on the floor just clean it up and move on. It's not personal.

2)Do not hang out at home during daylight hours. It's too easy to see how the one thing effects everything else.

3) Don't eat at home. It's too depressing and will make you cry. (She and her husband tried it once because they were worried about finances, it was horrible and heartbreaking. They have been going out for dinner every night but once since last October!) Obviously I can't afford that, but this weekend I shall. AND I'm going to present the owner with the receipts.

4) One day at a time, and just keep on slogging.

So, since this special weekend has been derailed for me I'll do special another way. I've not had the time to work on the Questions for God fables recently. I'll spend the days off lurking local bars with the book. That way I can explore my area some more and I'll have a chance to have meaningful conversation with fleshy people, even if they are strangers. Once it's dark I can come home and work on making the fables from the questions. That'll be ok.

I'm going to write a letter to the owner detailing exactly what's been going on here and *why* it is so important that they GET THIS SHIT DONE! If worst comes to worst they'll have to put me somewhere while I'm healing. I REALLY don't want that, though. All the plants I bought and put in will die. My cat will be re-traumatized, again. And most important, all my tools and supplies are *here*. I can get a lot of work done on stuff even while healing, but I do need my puter and my stuff with me. If I have to spend days in a barren place with nothing to do but watch tv *shudder* or read I'll go crazy. And I can't afford to waste that much time, anyway. A lot of my emotional stuff lately is about Time. I'm intensely aware of how I'm using mine. I get so furious because these people keep undoing something I spent a great deal of Time making perfect. It feels like personal violation because they have no regard for my Time. I guess that's one reason I was so insulted at the $250 for last month's ongoing trauma. Shit, I earn that in two days. Most of a month of being able to do what I *came* here for, what I *arranged* things for has been taken from me. It really *is* my Life they're messing up, in terms of how I need to use my time. It wouldn't make much difference if I were a tv-watching drone.

Now, off to work.

You weren't being "pathetic" at all.

I've just come back from visiting my father who looks like he's gone ten rounds with Frank Bruno, because he tripped and fell outside the other day, has a huge lump on his forehead, a black eye & cheek, and a gash on his temple. I daren't hug him too tight because he's just a shadow of the man he used to be, and I'm scared I might break him. All I can do is offer him my support, and to my mother, and my devastated children.

I'm here for you too, we're all we have, via the wires there's a lot of love coming your way.


Teucher, thank you for what you said in the Peer Review thread