bed side bad manners

I have been in and out of doctor’s offices, labs, and special practitioner’s offices all over the valley since last November. Its exhausting going from place to place and trying to remember everything that you need to bring or try to persuade another office to fax to the current location you need it at. I found out quickly that I need to make copies of everything possible so I could have it on hand or at least call someone before my appointment took place to make sure they had access to what they needed. Amongst my cane, that I have to bring with me everywhere, I have a list of items I carry around with me to each appointment.

Of those items is an eight pound binder, full of paperwork and analyses, is one of the many joys I haul around. Juggling a cane, a purse, the loathed eight pound binder (that I cradle to my chest like a baby), a mri films folder (that is as big as tv-dinner table tray), a placard with a time limit on it for parking, and my shaking debit card; held out reluctantly for the next abusive swipe through the very number-crunching-addictive key pad that demands my $40 co-pay for each appointment…even if they are in the same building…on the same day.

Though the painful testing, the restless nights full of questions, and the slowly growing bowl of knowledge that is passed from doctor to doctor like a party-mix, I find that there is something that is constant amongst the ever-changing procedures and unfamiliar hypotheses that I hear though out my visits, and that is the repetitive statements that are used by everyone in the doctor’s office no matter if they have met with you a hundred times or the first time when they pass you in the hall. I have a sneaky suspicion that there is a little man running around the office holding que-cards or speaking into a secret two-way-radio, giving the workers the same lines to say over and over.

There are things that I don’t want to hear when I go in for an appointment and yet they are the things that I hear numerous times no matter where I go. I’m sorry that I have to share them, because they are annoying, but I fear that if I don’t jot them down they will circle in my head, on a skipping repeat, like a broken record playing a Nickel Back song. (Which of course sounds the same from start to end anyways.)

I now type down some of the monotonous statements that crawl under my skin, hoping that they will be removed permanently and the little guy holding the two-way-radio will know that I’m on to him. Well little man, I am onto you! Please be more creative in the future than sticking with the following:

Please have a seat; we will be with you in a minute.
This may hurt.
Are you able to walk?
Who is your insurance again?
I’m sorry, I’ve been running late today.
Our machine broke this morning.
Please fill this out.
Please fill this out again.
We lost the paperwork.
I’ll need a copy of their papers before we begin.
You have so much damage we don’t know where to start.
I will need a copy of that.
Have you already had__ insert a test the doctor gave me last week here ___ test?
You will have to meet with Doctor__insert anyone else here___before you meet with me.
We will need you to have a follow-up appointment with me.
Does this give you more pain or less pain when I poke you?
You have a lot of weakness…that is just not a good sign.
This does not look good.
Do you remember any trauma before this happened? Any at all?
Your reflexes are not good.
Well that’s no fun, is it.
I need you to sign here.
Which leg is it again?
We are going to need to reschedule.
I’m going to advise that you see another doctor.

And last but not least…
It’s good to see you again, (doctor looks at my name on the folder of freshly copied documents) Sahara, what is troubling you today?

sleep tight...and confined

For a creating writing class, back in high school, we were asked to write a structure poem. We needed to place the words in our poems in very distinct patterns so the form of the poem matched the expressions in your poem. I wrote this:

Uncomfortable

IHAT

ESLE

EPIN

GINA

SLEE

PING

BAG!

Last spring I moved into a new apartment, with new roommates, and a new bedroom that made Harry Potter's under the stairs cupboard look like a master suite. I decided that I had to downgrade from my queen sized bed to a single, allowing some floor room to walk around.

I am a 27 year old women. I am a large lady. I am a 5'9 taller than average female. I sleep with pointed toes hanging off the bottom of my mattress and the tip of my head hanging off the top. I am also a sleeper that dares not to have any toe, knee cap, finger, or arm hang off the bed, into the vast dark abyss of the bedroom where the bedtime creatures could grab me, so all night I am confined on a 3'x6' cushy coffin.

I hate sleeping on my bed. It is uncomfortable and suffocating. I am trying, so badly, to afford the queen sized Malm bed frame and mattresses from IKEA. I dream of the leg room. I yearn for the movie nights, to be able to snug up with someone else. I crave being able to sleep with an elbow above my head without hitting my funny bone on the wall. It is time that I have an adult sized bed. It's time for me to be able to stretch as my heart contents. Its time for me to have a cool side of the pillow again...ahhh, the cool side of a pillow...how I have missed that sweet smelling, face comforting, gentle play in my hair from the chill thin air that washes over me and blows away any smoggy nightmares that may be looming.

Keep you fingers crossed for me that I can get a new bed soon. Because if I can't, I have a feeling that I will have some more broken dreams...and elbows.

Odd women out...

Last night I had an Epiphany.

My nephew Palmer always comments on my CTR ring saying things like "Mommy and Daddy are married" or "Is this your married ring?". I always give him a little explanation that I'm not married and that my ring is a church ring. Once I even tried to explain how my ring was not on the same hand as his Mommy and Daddy's ring was, but that didn't get too far because he was obviously more interested in my cane.

After dinner Palmer said "This is Auntie Rie's cane, this is how she walks", he then limped and gimped and hopped around the living room. He is adorable. I however feel not so adorable when I am limping around with my cane. I miss high heels. I miss being able to use stairs easily. I miss not having stares from strangers follow me when I walk around a store. I miss being able to play and jump and walk everywhere I wanted to go. I get down a lot because I think that no one will want to date a girl like me, especially with a cane, and I put myself down thinking that I'm alone for a reason.

We caravan to the Dinosaur Museum in Thanksgiving Point, it is awesome there, but I was exhausted by the time we left. My leg felt as though it was giving out and I was angry with the fact that I was tired at 8:30 pm. Some of my favorite people in the world, went home together. I couldn't help but notice that I drove home alone. I am single. Singular. I wasn't down about it - it was actually a beautiful drive with great music, I just realized I was alone but not lonely.

I finally understood what it means to be single. I am alone until I am married or coupled. Duh, why did I not understand that before?

It doesn't mean that I am not worth the love and attentions of someone else. It doesn't mean that I don't deserve an eternal marriage. It doesn't mean that I am doing something wrong. All relationships fail before you find the one you belong with. That doesn't mean that I'm a failure. It just means that I haven't found my single man to couple with.

Until I do, I'm happy to wear my church ring. I'm happy to have other emblems of a single life like less responsibility, enjoying parties that run deep into the night, random vacations, and having a girls night almost every night with my roomies. I'm happy to be singular which has synonyms such as remarkable, extraordinary, outstanding, distinct, and odd.

I know that I will have days that I get down about being single, I'm sure that the post-spinal surgery days will be a hard trial for me; but I'm grateful to realize that things work on Heavenly Father's time (I am so grateful that I didn't marry the man I wanted 10 years ago, 10 months ago, or even 10 days ago), that I'm never alone, that I am sealed to my family, and I am promised a family of my own one day.

Last night I made new goals in my life. I am going to work on me; feeling happier, stronger, healthier, more spiritual, and using my singlehood to the fullest. I'm going to drink it all in.