What seemed so important to write about before has mellowed and faded. I'm still breathing from my belly and feel as though the urge to constantly hold my breath has been lifted. Not quite true... it's subsiding - I still have the muscle memory to hold my breath... tight chest, tight abdomen... but now I'm aware of it and slowly, moment by moment remembering I don't have to hold my breath any longer. That breathtaking (pun pun) revelation is now in the past and I've moved on. I do have another session with April scheduled to continue the application process of whatever emotional laxative we managed to create that day.
In this moment, today, I'm aware for the first time of having the flu... or not. Chris' Mom was deathly ill Sunday night. Violent vomiting and diarrhea as well as fever, chills and abdominal cramps forced Chris to call emergency and landed his Mom in the ER. After some intense self diagnosing... this came up on Google:
"The bacterial species, Vibrio parahaemolyticus has been associated with consumption of raw or undercooked fish and shellfish, particularly oysters. Infection by these bacteria can cause symptoms including diarrhea, abdominal cramps, nausea, vomiting, headache, fever, and chills."
Sounds right, right?! Wrong... Chris started feeling ill about 3am this morning and he ate no fish at all. So that decidedly makes it a virus, a violent, savage, demonic virus that has my poor Honey in undeniable intestinal and otherwise all over agony for hours now.
So here's the odd part. I feel fine and yet I was compelled to cancel my scheduled work with a client who's moving in today. I actually felt guilty, like I was being dishonest or playing hooky when I texted her. I sat and stared at the text I'd sent "Chris is violently ill this morning. What we thought was food poisoning is apparently a virus. I feel a bit woozy but OK but I would hate to get caught running around (if explosive diarrhea hits). Or expose you. Don't know what to do...." 1 minute pause... next text: "We took his Mom to emergency Sunday night with this thing..." 2 more minutes pass... next text: "You could pick up Val... she could help with the unpacking? I've never seen Chris so miserable (only a slight exaggeration)."
Pam's response within three minutes: "Laurie, you need to take care of you and Chris!! I appreciate your not exposing me. I have dealt with unloading and unpacking. When you are better you can help with what is left."
There is so much for me to "unpack" here on so many levels... I just have to dive in and run with it.
What shall I forgive this day to amuse and delight?
I decided back in November 2015 to make my poetry available and journal online. I'm not exactly sure what "blogging" means but I am quite sure this is an online journal. Feel free to read on with an aire of open minded curiosity. At no time do I intend to offend, judge or pretend to know anything really, I'm just an observer and explorer, as we all are. Feel free to "boldly go" through my observations and perhaps it will spark or inspire. Comments are off because I don't want to be worried about political correctness when I'm writing. I'm not thinking about "you." I'm just writing because it feels "right". Feel free to enjoy or surf on.
Fibber McGee's closet!