Caterwauling

So I finally got to plowing through some of the eleventy billion blog entries I missed in my nearly two-month absence from my routine, and one day I might actually answer all the kind e-mails that so many of you floated my way during my time of loss. I’ve read them all; I just don’t know what to say other than thank you for being here for me.

I have one e-mail I need to answer, one from the boy I met the day I came back from San Francisco in October and haven’t seen since. He’s left the door open for me, when I’m ready to actually have a conversation. I’m just so afraid I might never be able to have two calm, non-drama-filled moments to rub together again.

I have loads of photos to upload from my stay in Vegas, but Mom had asked me to take photos of my grandfather at his viewing. Meaning, I can’t upload without seeing them, so I don’t touch that camera anymore. I don’t want to see him like that, although him sort-of at peace beats the torture I remember the hospital leaving him in.

From my November trip to Las Vegas, I’d brought home a special souvenir for my grandfather. But I never got to give it to him. Mom and I were actually collecting all kind of things for him, to make the house cozy and cute for his arrival back home. And now, there’s not even a house anymore — that goes away within mere weeks.

I’m trying to figure out how to move without breaking my lease. I am trying to find out if my building has any openings, as I do not want to step outside of the city (i.e., back to Virginia or, god forbid, Maryland), nor do I want to incur any additional moving fees (i.e., lease-breaking issues). I’m exhausted just thinking about the drama to come!

I made three dentists’ appointments for this week. I canceled the one where the people seemed most competent/friendly, not to mention they asked the right questions and were so very helpful. It turned out that they weren’t in my dental plan’s network, so I went with one that the worthless-in-an-emergency 1-800-Dentist found for me. I didn’t have a great feeling about it, but seriously, hitting myself in the jaw with a sledgehammer at this point would be a viable alternative to the current pain. (Hitting someone else would feel better, however, as long as I get to pick the victim!)

I realized, though, in canceling what I viewed as the better care, I am just like my grandfather. I remember him since the time I was young coming home from hospital and/or doctor’s visits to the fuckheads at the VA Hospital, chagrined and disappointed and downright disgusted by the lack of care and the fact that his issues always went unaddressed.

I had asked him many times why he went there when they didn’t treat him well. “It’s free, Punkin’,” he would say to me. He didn’t want to put the family in debt over getting “real” medical care, so he took their shoddy excuse of care without a word of complaint.

So when I feel guilt (and believe me I do) that we didn’t rescue him from the VA before they killed him, I have to remind myself that a lifetime of poor care culminated the only way it could, I guess. They fucked him up for life throughout the past half-century, they left every issue untreated and they tortured him till he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

I did end up making myself an appointment with a provider I felt good about AND who takes my insurance, so I’m at least moving in the right direction. I was actually sitting in a meeting today and absolutely fell apart with pain — I couldn’t even continue it. I tried to pop some pills but my mouth hurt too much for me to even swallow — I ended up spewing water everywhere.

(Which, BTW, a bottle filled with ice-cold water? Brilliant, I say. I have had to explain to way too many people why I have an Aquafina bottle attached to my neck, but hell, the curious stares are a small price to pay for a moment of numbness.)

I’m hoping they can just yank out my damn wisdom teeth while I’m there. I remember the last time I had wisdom teeth removed (on the other side of my mouth). The dentist literally had to crawl up on top of me and shove them out of my head.

There I was, lying upside-down with a military man pinning me down and shoving instruments into my mouth — sounds a lot like one of my better dates in recent memory. 😉 I wonder if this new one can do extractions with ME on top for a change?!?!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 12th, 2006 at 5:58 PM and is filed under Existential Meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.