fenzle

Had a freaking disturbing dream last night that my dad died . . .

Which is weird, because my dad DID die like 12 years ago.

In the dream it was much more of a present thing. Very vivid.

My life kind of rocks.

Great 4th of July weekend so far. Went camping Friday night out by rainier at my friend Brian's cabin. Got back in time yesterday to head down to a BBQ on a houseboat in Lake Union. Nothing like being RIGHT UNDER the fireworks when they go off.

ANd today's shaping up pretty well too.

Weird dream last nigh.

BRiefly . . .

Was going to "band practice" with my brother when I realized I'd forgotten my gloves at home. I tried to rush home to get them (hitching a ride with a nice old guy) but forgot where the heck we were staying.

Halfway there, my right toe started to hurt. I reached down and ended up squeezing to GIANT FUCKING BEETLES out of my toe where, I assume, they were LAYING EGGS.

FUCKED UP>

Went back to the office today. Feeling about 60% I'd say. Able to do *some* work, but still feeling really run down and beat up. Still, it feels good to be able to use my brain again.

Burning midnight (this is what happens when you go to bed at 7) . . .

I dare you to try and read this awfully-written Joss Whedon interview from "The Independent."

Somebody needs to have their fingers sawed off . . .
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/features/joss-whedon--and-they-call-it-buffy-love-1687099.html

The use of commas alone in this thing is a capital offense.

Everything starts to feel better. Or if not better, then "Better."

I still feel a little bit nauseous and a little bit off and weird and miserable.

But suddenly I know I'm going to be ok. Suddenly I can think straight. Suddenly I feel alive again.

Thank jebus.

How quickly you can get used to this kind of lifestyle. I mean, I've barely left the house this week. I haven't touched anyone at all. ANd when I do go to the store I feel like some kind of alien in a space suit. I don't blink. I barely open my mouth to speak. My balance is unsteady. I feel like "the other."

At this point a "normal" life sounds strange. What would it be like to shake someone's hand? What would it be like . . . to run . . to kiss . . .? What strange world this is. ANd what strange people in it.

More LJing than I've done in years! Ill desperation!

Um. Long day today. I left the house for a full 20 minutes and bought a whole chicken. Couldn't eat much of it, but just claiming the beast's meaty carcasse as my property made me feel like a man. Did 2 business phone calls. Did laundry. Fought off bitterness. Had a nice email conversation with somebody I've been wanting to have a nice email conversation with for a while.

For the record, if I stay home tomorrow that will be one full week. I'm down to about 198 pounds, which I think was my weight when I graduated college.

Fever is lower. Can swallow without crying. Brain operating at a constant 62 percent.

My grandmother called today. She's almost 80 and has a lot of things "Wrong" with her, but damn that woman knows how to live.

Going to eat soup and go to bed.

My thermometer says I DON'T have a fever right now. It could be lying though. I mean, if I don't have a fever, then why am I sweating profusely every time I go to sleep?

I think I've lost around 10 pounds this week. AWESOME.

I'm very tired. Very fed up. Very lonely.

Oy. So this is . . .what, day 6 of my house arrest? Nope. Day 5. Either way, it feels like forever. Furthest I've been since last tuesday was down to my doc's office. I got out once yesterday to pick up a few supplies and just barely made it back before I got too dizzy. Been awake for about an hour and a half now and feel myself fading again. Really can't wait for this to be over. Really.

Whew . . .

Weird fever dreams last night. Was taking some kind of test for Mrs. Dadah, my high school physics teacher. Somehow the test required me to write part of an erotic story in rather shocking detail. I ran out of paper, so I ended up writing a bunch of it in permanent marker in my shower. That dream ended with me looking for a digital camera because I was scared that the permanent marker would run when somebody actually used the shower.

I also dreamed that I was "blocked in" in my friend J and S's garage. Turns out the car blocking me in was K's. DEEP SYMBOLISM.

So, this has been one of the hardest weeks of my life.

I've been feeling a little bit "off" ever since getting back from San Diego a couple weeks ago. Sluggish. Tired. Like somebody put the hand brake on my brain.

It got progressively worse until I found myself lying on the floor at Daniel Talsky's birthday party last saturday (was that only a week ago) staring at the dark, feeling dizzy and unpleasantly high.

ANd then on Tuesday everything went to hell.

My right tonsil had swollen up to something ugly. I was running a fever. You know badness.

I went to my new doctor at Qliance, and after a long talk about various health problems (Like being TOO DAMN MANLY) she prescribed me some broad range anti-biotics to handle the Bronchitis I seemed to be going through.

That night I started feeling MUCH worse and started a pattern I'm still on now . . .

Fall asleep for 2 hours. Wake up covered in sweat (I mean covered . . . soaked right into the mattress). Shiver in bed (teeth chattering) until I got up the courage to run to the shower. Heat my body back up with SCALDING water. Lie on the couch and watch bad movies for a while. Fall asleep. Repeat.

And that's been most of my life for most of the week.

I went back to the doctor yesterday (friday) and had all sorts of fun things happen . . .

1. They took chest x rays of me. I got to see how much fluid is in my lungs (not much) as well as the bright white outline of my heart. When i see my heart, I think of my dad's heart and how it gave up on him when he was 47.

2. The nurse had me lean over the table and stuck a very long and pointy needle in my glut. Didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Whatever was in that needle seems to be doing the trick re-bronchitis/strep/whatever since my tonsil has softened up quite a bit.

3. They did an Influenza test on me. FUN! PRocess here is that they take a LOOOOONG cotton swab type thing and run it all the way through your sinus. THey do that by pushing it in your nose until they can't push no more. Fucking painful. Fucking unpleasant. I'd rather be shot in the ass over and over.

ANd then I went home and went back to bed.

My apartment is a train wreck right now. I've got enough energy to do the basics (make soup) but not to actually clean the place up.

My body feels . . . warped.

I've lost a bunch of weight around the middle (yay) but I'm also losing muscle from sitting around all day. I can feel my arms evaporating.

I feel like a boy in a bubble . . . I haven't touched anyone in days. I haven't kissed anyone in weeks. My friends deliver supplies but (rightly) don't want to get too close in case I'm contagious.

I feel dizzy. It's hard to form thoughts. I feel doped up.

I'm not depressed about it (shit happens) but I am . . . sad. Lonely. Annoyed. Even as I'm writing this I feel detached from what I'm doing. Like I'm watching my fingers type out on the keyboard without any real instruction from me.

Oh, and I've got NO sex drive right now. Pretty much the only thing that tames that savage beast is a 101 fever.

I guess I'll find out in a couple days if I've got the pig flu.

I've got so much work piled up and no way of doing it. Not sure what to do.

Oh, and one more thing:

I miss K fiercely.

I don't know why. I don't know what brought this up in me. I don't know why it's hitting me now. It started near the end of my thing with M. I found myself overwhelmed with sense memory. The scent of K's hair. The feeling of her under my arm. It's one of the reason's I broke it off with M . . . didn't seem fair to continue things if I wasn't emotionally free.

And now that my defenses are down and my brain is unhooked from the controls . . .well, it's all I can do to keep from crying.

I don't want her back. I don't think that would work. ANd I know I'm remembering the good and glossing over the bad. But I feel . . . awful. Guilty, I guess . . . for not ever truly committing to her while we were together. For being too pompous, too aloof, too detached. She's got her flaws and I'm sure she could have done stuff different too, but for my part, I should have been more in her corner. More on her team.

But more than anything else, I just miss her. Not "K, my girlfriend" but "K my friend."

We had a whole bunch of goofy insider jokes that nobody else got. I keep finding stuff on the interwebs that only she'd appreciate. I skim through her LJ and see she's dealing with "Stuff" and I just want to swoop in and give her a hug (uh, except for the virus thing. Doh! Stupid PIG FLU!!)

I also see that her and her new BF seem to be doing pretty well. Which is awesome. Yeah, it stings. But I want her to be happy. I just hope that the "rebound effect" doesn't mess them up too much. Fallout.

In another world . . . at another time in both our lives, we would have had a lot of fun as partners in crime. Fucking timing.

I feel a little bit like I'm being burned down right now. Mentally, emotionally, financially. A few more days and I'll be ashes. And then I'll go to mexico for a week. ANd hopefully when I come back I'll be "Ready."

For what? I'm not sure. My next stage in my life. My next version of me. And I'm excited about it. And scared. Time to finally hit my potential. Time to put away childish things.

This has been a little shadow of a possible future . . . disease. Death. I have a lot of living to do. Travel. Friends. Accomplishments. Money. BLah blah blah.

Ha. I've been awake for 45 mins! Starting to run out of juice. Need to run to the store and pick up supplies while I'm still conscious enough. Time keeps on slipping . . .. into the future.











I don't know what it is, but lately I've found myself really missing katie.

Wow. . .
In my hotel in Colorado. Just woke up from a frankly awful dream concerning my ex. Awful but vindicating in a way. Gonna take a while to digest this one.

Livejournal and Facebook are the devil. Myspace may also be the devil, but honestly I lost my password to Myspace over a year ago. So who knows.

To be in a bad mood.

One whole day.

Lameness.

CRYPTIC LAMENESS!

CRYPTIC I SAY!

When I was in Las Vegas last week I saw a truck that said "Las Vegas Swings" on it . . . I thought it was maybe some wife swapping thing, but it turns out that they actually sell porch swings. Weird.

Anyway, . . . I've been in a funk.

I can't tell how long the funk has been funky. Pre-Surgery I was in so much pain that I figured I had a good reason to be in a bad mood. Now I've been pain free for a good couple of months but I still feel like I'm ghosting my way through the day. No passion for nothing. Just trying to get by.

And that ain't good.

Katie called me on it last night while we were hitching a cab back from downtown.

The problem is, I've never really been someone with dreams or ambition. I don't have any big purpose I'm trying to accomplish. I don't have that big thing that I want want want.

I mean, my life is pretty darned good. Good career. Great GF. Good friends.

But more often than not I'm just bored, frustrated and annoyed at the world.

And how lame is that?

Granted, the world financial crisis and all that isn't helping, but that effects me personally in so few ways . .

Well, hmm. Maybe you guys can help me out:

What's your purpose? What's your drive? What gets you up in the morning?

Whew.

So it's now been 7 days since I went under the knife and all I can say is "why the hell didn't I do this 4 years ago?"

I'm not saying everything is perfect. I've still got a twinge in my foot and my incision is itching like crazy.

But I feel so much better than when I went in there it's not funny. In fact, I'm actually taking fewer drugs now than I was before the surgery. I haven't had any kind of pain med since Monday (except the Fentanyl patch) and have a pharmacy worth of stuff sitting unused in my condo.

And even better, I've actually found myself able to go out and have fun again.

Only thing I have to really pay attention to is how much bending/lifting/pushing/pulling I do.
The last thing I want is to mess this thing up again.

Anyway, good stuff. Mom was here for a week. Katie was a tank through the whole thing. Life is good.

C

Last night I put on the big old fentanyl patch and a few minutes later said "Your drugs works quick oh apothecary."

Which was true at the time. Around midnight last night I was loopy and feeling no pain.

Now? Not so much. I feel clear headed and the old ice pick in the ass is back with a vengeance.

Ahh well. Hopefully it'll be over soon. I doubt I'll be in a clear mind for at least a day or two, so my lovely and talented girlfriend, Katie, is going to post a "Hey, Chris came through this with flying colors" or "Hey, Chris was a great big DoucheMuffin" comment sometime this afternoon.

Thanks for the support, folks. I'm looking forward to "Getting her done." Though I admit, I'm a bit nervous.

Much love. My brother just called me, which was really, really nice.

Later.

We're about t-minus 9 hours before the surgery. So this is the day that my life changes. I'm hopeful and nervous and ready . . . and I'm very, very, very much in love with my awesome girlfriend. She's been an absolute rock through all this and I'm lucky to have her.

See you on the other side.

Oh, and you can read what she has to say about the whole thing at http://fluvial.wordpress.com/2008/08/07/under-the-knife-spinal-edition/

Off . . . into adventure!

1. Sleeping through the night without high grade pain pills.
2. Snuggling.
3. Learning how to walk like a man instead of the shambling monster I currently am.
4. Really good fucking fucking.
5. Yoga. Dear god, give me yoga.
6. Sitting down for more than 10 minutes at a time without crying.
7. Being able to actually focus on a conversation without that nagging buzzing in the back of my brain.
8. Getting rich.
9. Hopscotch.
10. Running.
11. Skipping.
12. Dancing like a fool . . . and not feeling like I'm breaking myself in the process.


More later. . .