If you've been reading for awhile, you might remember that I've had an unidentified sinus infection for the better part of the last year and after three doctors and a remodel of the bathroom (by the fearful landlord praying for the absence of black mold), two cat scans and an obscene amount of antibiotics - you died-in-the wool organics would be horrified - a bucket of green snot that was vacuumed from my sinus cavity (which I have been spewing out daily for the last 9 months!) has finally been identified as an allergic reaction to a rare feline bacteria.... I'm very sad that this came from Marley and sadder still at the prospect of never being able to enjoy the comfort of such beautiful and loving animals. So sorry about the graphics, if you have a weak stomach, but hey, I had to endure it, you can at least hang in there with me..........I'm smiling.
They also repaired a deviated septum. I'm not sure that was an absolute necessity but they're in there so what the heck. Pain has not been too much of an issue, but fear of success of this whole thing does occupy my tired brain. I am vigilant about such things as salt sprays and neti-pot cleanses - really, they're a good idea for this age of pollution we live in and the threat of any allergy you may or may not know you have. The buckets of green snot are gone and now replaced with never ending slimy blood clots, OK, I'll stop!!
There were some complications with the surgery, not least of them being the inability to wake for a full 8 hours from the anesthesia....scary.... Did you know that the effects of anesthesia can last as long as 2 weeks, and even more? It was done on the 21st and inanimate objects are just now beginning to stop inexplicably grow and shrinking as if I am on a sporadic LSD trip.
I was going to give you a cut-away of the sinuses and deviated things but you are probably happy to put a close to this topic, as am I......please, please heal correctly!
In other news: my daughter and I have determined it is probably best that the next move in my life should be a final trip to Europe. I know, I have no real money and the confusion of trying to find a place to live in, that I can afford, will still be there when I get home. The saving grace is that my SS check will be coming in with no expenses going out, so it won't be all that frightening. But my life has been so without joy and relief from the lingering pains of a lifetime, that if I don't tuck in some happiness and good memories before the end, then I deserve whatever I get. So sucking up bravery from the bottoms of my feet, I will be alone!, is my daily task now. Besides, contemplating such a trip is the only thing that is staving off panic attacks the likes of which I have never experienced in my whole panicked life. I had a bring-you-to-your-knees one the other night and scared the shit out of both of us. You know, the kind of hide in the back of the closet and wish you were dead ones, I'm sure you're familiar with them. I pray to God you are not.
I'll leave you with some good news: I've lost five pounds, pale yellow tulips and pick hyacinths are blooming in the front yard. My car is being nice to me and I had the most sublime experience yesterday of standing in a field of vibrant green grass with three small