So, my grandma, last time I checked, is recovering nicely from the heart surgery. Now, since a hip-breaking fall was what landed her in the hospital in the first place, she just needs to have that taken care of before anything can officially be declared alright again.
In other news, school started this week. Pleasantly, it turns out my friend Mandi (who I haven't really seen for a year, but ran into at work a couple weeks ago) is in my first two classes. My third class is taught by the psych professor I had over the summer, and since I loved her, I was elated to find that out. Finally, my last class is automatically better than the previous time I tried to take it, because there is finally efficient air conditioning in the weight room. Now all I have to do is kick my nasty macaroni and cheese addiction and I might actually get something accomplished.
I felt like I should write something to consume the time this podcast is taking to download- a coworker recommended a Dutch podcast that has an hour-long crazy techno session every week. Marco's musical tastes haven't led me astray before, so I had to check it out. Now, if only these files didn't feel like they were several hundred megs apiece... real estate is quite limited on my little albino PowerBook.
Okay, only about 70MB apiece. Not too bad.
I feel like I should have more intelligent things to contribute, considering how eventful these past few weeks have been. However, I'm consumed with three thoughts: 1) Jason would really, really get off on this techno stuff, 2) I need to watch Logo more, because mm, those mens is delicious, and 3) it's great to be back at school. Not like I really left for all that long, but it feels good to be back, and it feels good to see a huge number of my friends there. I think this was the first time that I didn't feel alone (and secretly jealous) on the first day back to school. This is the first year that everyone in my local social sphere has been here at the same time, and the first time back after successfully finishing a semester.
My brain's being consumed by techno. I have to stop writing now.
(DB) out.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
an explanation for the last three weeks
The past couple of weeks have been super turbulent, and a huge mess. A brief summary, with key points bolded for easy reference:
Finals Week this time was for some reason much more pressing than the last. I ended up having to take a week off work to finish three papers and two powerpoint presentations, do two take-home finals, and study for the two in-class finals. My hard work paid off and I finished my two classes with an A and a B, respectively.
I was supposed to go on vacation immediately after my last night of class, but some unfortunate circumstances arose with Jinah's family, with whom we were going. So we ended up leaving on Sunday rather than Friday morning. I was disappointed, but I did end up getting to go to the drive-in with a bunch of friends on Friday night, which proved an enjoyable and inexpensive way to while away an evening. That alone made the delay worth it. Saturday, I did some housework I'd put off for ages, and then guiltily went off and spent $100 (!) at Walmart on a new outfit, a substantial amount of much-needed toiletries (vacation or not), and equipment / soaps / sprays to clean off my dirty car. Even if I planned to park it once I got there, I wasn't about to roll down Coastal Highway covered in pollen and bird shit. After washing the car, Jinah and I finished packing, picked up Adam, and were all ready to get going..
When all of a sudden, my car begins to issue puffs of smoke out of the hood. Turns out the power steering fluid was leaking everywhere, causing the car to stink, and of course, explaining some of the subtle steering problems I've noticed of late. So, less than nine hours before we were scheduled to leave, my car is unable to make the trip. Fortunately, my parents decided to take me, Jinah, and Adam down, because there was no way everyone, everyone's luggage, and a dog was going to fit in a single Ford Taurus.
Once we arrived, though, the trip turned out amazing. It was very relaxing, and unlike the last time I went (senior week) I actually made it to the beach daily, between morning trips and evening walks. My money managed to last me throughout the trip, we didn't tire out our patience for each other, and I finally finished reading this book I've ignored for the past year, save for bookshelf relocations. My head cleared, I reaffirmed my confidence in feelings I've had for my friend Mike (not Stuart, for those of you who might have thought so), though uncertainty caused me to shy away from previous attempts to act on them. I managed to turn a shade darker without getting a sunburn, and I managed to accomplish everything I wanted to.
My favorite realization came when I spent an hour in the library, on my computer and on the phone, trying to sort out my classes for the fall. Regardless of where I was, I still had my computer and reasonably accessible WiFi. I still had my phone, so I exchanged texts and calls with people at home fairly often. Even without WiFi, I can get to my work-related emails from my phone anyhow. So, despite romantic notions of going on vacation to escape from one's daily life, I was as connected in Ocean City as I ever am in Baltimore. I wasn't enjoying myself because I was away, I was enjoying myself because I was at the beach. That simple thought process amplified how wonderful everything already was. When it came time to return home, I felt refreshed, relaxed, and ready to start back up with life again; it was a very liberating feeling. My car had been repaired in my absence, my ailing dog hadn't died while I was away, and I'd finally hammered out a schedule for the fall. I felt as though Life had given me an hour-long massage, topped off with a pat on the back.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, it turned out that I would very much need it.
On Monday, I drove to work and discovered that my car had taken to overheating again, and I had no money to buy any more coolant. When I arrived at work, I came to find that I was scheduled for the next six days in a row. Not like I've got anything else to do this week, and I did tell them to schedule me for anything when I got back, but it's still a bit of a jerk back to reality. I dealt with it.
Monday night, when I got home from work, I found that my dog (Prince) was bleeding profusely from one of the tumors on his stomach. Now, he was loaded up with cancer, arthritis, and was blind and deaf. We knew his days were numbered, but when that point came, we knew it was time to have him put down. So, we cried a lot, called the emergency vet clinic, and took him over. They made us sit around for 45 minutes with Prince shivering on a cold metal exam table before they actually came to euthanize him.
They tranquilized him, and his eyes finally closed and he fell asleep. Then, they injected the lethal drugs, and neglected to mention that when they took effect, certain reflexes would be activated. So here we are, my dad, my brother, and myself, all crying as they stick the needle into the IV, and listening to his breathing slow down. Suddenly, his eyes fly back open and he starts gasping, his face contorts and his body convulses. His eyes are crossed and stuck open. By this point we'd all ran out of the room, sobbing. I'm fairly sure that image will never ever leave my memory.
I'm only hoping they were telling the truth, that Prince was really dead when that happened, and not jolted back to consciousness in those final moments to find his heart stopped and his lungs no longer working. I feel like it's what we had to do, and that it was better than waiting for him to be consumed by cancer, or waiting for him to fall down a flight of stairs because he couldn't see and could barely walk. But it's taking a much longer time to reconcile that because from the horrible things I saw, nothing looked peaceful and dignified about the way he died. Since nobody I know has ever been euthanized and lived to tell the tale, I'll never know if he felt any of it or not.
We got home at 11:30, and I had to be at work at 9am, to teach a one-on-one class. I was in no condition to go to bed though, and went out for a ride with Mike to get some fresh air and clear my head. My puppy was still gone, and I was running on no sleep, but the class turned out well, and work went well otherwise. I still didn't feel right, though.
Adam and Jinah met up with me after work to treat me to sushi, in hopes of cheering me up. It largely worked. Until I got a call from my dad, stating that my grandmother was in intensive care, because she'd apparently suffered at least two heart attacks and either not known about them or not told anybody about them, and they'd caught up with her. Given that I was at dinner and she wasn't taking visitors, there was nothing that I could really do, except try not to let it get me down. Jinah and Adam told me they'd buy me some coolant, too.
So we get to Walmart (a-fucking-gain) and buy some coolant, throw it in to the engine, and drive back to my house. The car overheats. At this point, I'm inside, sitting on the couch, trying not to think, "well, my dog's dead, my grandmother's dying, and my car's dying too." That thought didn't subside, though, as evidenced by last night's away message.
This morning, my car didn't overheat, and later in the day, I got news that my grandmother was stabilized, at least for now, even though things are looking quite dire for her at the moment. After work, Jinah, Adam, and Mike treated me to the $3 movies to see Clerks 2, and here I am, typing this.
These past two (now three, whatever) days could very easily depress the hell out of anyone. I feel like I'm keeping myself fairly well-grounded considering the small amount of time that's passed. The thing that disturbs me the most is this pattern I seem to fall into every year or so. I'm positioned to succeed academically, but then something bad happens involving someone close to me, I get stressed out, stop caring, and give up.
It happened two years ago the first time I went to college, involving a whopping fight with my parents. A year ago, it happened when Brad and I broke up, which I would qualify as a more stressful ordeal than the previous year's fight. This year, my dog dies (I'll very seriously consider strangling you if you think that's not a big deal), and I might lose my grandma. And my car, $1700 after its first repair, still may be on the verge of falling apart.
I feel like it progressively gets worse and worse. But, I have to put any feelings of grief or dread on the back burner, and focus on one thing alone: avoiding self-pity at all costs. In a nutshell, shit happens. And while I'd like to feel like I'm the victim of some cosmic conspiracy, and it'd damn sure be easy to think that right now, I won't. None of this is anybody's fault, and while I'd so desperately like to blame someone, I can't. I can't blame any person, I can't blame God, and I can't blame myself. If I start to do any of those things, I'll be setting myself up for the same trains of thought that have consistently set me on a course towards apathy and failure in the past.
As much as all of this blows, I'm lucky enough to be the one doing all the mourning, rather than being the mourned. Yes, I'm in pain, but I'm alive, and that in and of itself is a mandate to keep it together, and maintain as much momentum as I can. Unlike the loved ones I've lost and may be losing, I have a long future ahead of me. And if I let myself slip on account of all this, I'd be doing them a great disservice: I love(d) them, they love(d) me, and the last thing any of us would want would be pain overtaking me, facilitating yet another crash-and-burn.
I don't know which of the stages of grief I would assign to any of my reactions, but I like to think that I'm keeping my head on straight about all this. If any of you readers have any reactions, thoughts, suggestions, or anything, please, don't hesitate to let me know.
(DB) out.
Finals Week this time was for some reason much more pressing than the last. I ended up having to take a week off work to finish three papers and two powerpoint presentations, do two take-home finals, and study for the two in-class finals. My hard work paid off and I finished my two classes with an A and a B, respectively.
I was supposed to go on vacation immediately after my last night of class, but some unfortunate circumstances arose with Jinah's family, with whom we were going. So we ended up leaving on Sunday rather than Friday morning. I was disappointed, but I did end up getting to go to the drive-in with a bunch of friends on Friday night, which proved an enjoyable and inexpensive way to while away an evening. That alone made the delay worth it. Saturday, I did some housework I'd put off for ages, and then guiltily went off and spent $100 (!) at Walmart on a new outfit, a substantial amount of much-needed toiletries (vacation or not), and equipment / soaps / sprays to clean off my dirty car. Even if I planned to park it once I got there, I wasn't about to roll down Coastal Highway covered in pollen and bird shit. After washing the car, Jinah and I finished packing, picked up Adam, and were all ready to get going..
When all of a sudden, my car begins to issue puffs of smoke out of the hood. Turns out the power steering fluid was leaking everywhere, causing the car to stink, and of course, explaining some of the subtle steering problems I've noticed of late. So, less than nine hours before we were scheduled to leave, my car is unable to make the trip. Fortunately, my parents decided to take me, Jinah, and Adam down, because there was no way everyone, everyone's luggage, and a dog was going to fit in a single Ford Taurus.
Once we arrived, though, the trip turned out amazing. It was very relaxing, and unlike the last time I went (senior week) I actually made it to the beach daily, between morning trips and evening walks. My money managed to last me throughout the trip, we didn't tire out our patience for each other, and I finally finished reading this book I've ignored for the past year, save for bookshelf relocations. My head cleared, I reaffirmed my confidence in feelings I've had for my friend Mike (not Stuart, for those of you who might have thought so), though uncertainty caused me to shy away from previous attempts to act on them. I managed to turn a shade darker without getting a sunburn, and I managed to accomplish everything I wanted to.
My favorite realization came when I spent an hour in the library, on my computer and on the phone, trying to sort out my classes for the fall. Regardless of where I was, I still had my computer and reasonably accessible WiFi. I still had my phone, so I exchanged texts and calls with people at home fairly often. Even without WiFi, I can get to my work-related emails from my phone anyhow. So, despite romantic notions of going on vacation to escape from one's daily life, I was as connected in Ocean City as I ever am in Baltimore. I wasn't enjoying myself because I was away, I was enjoying myself because I was at the beach. That simple thought process amplified how wonderful everything already was. When it came time to return home, I felt refreshed, relaxed, and ready to start back up with life again; it was a very liberating feeling. My car had been repaired in my absence, my ailing dog hadn't died while I was away, and I'd finally hammered out a schedule for the fall. I felt as though Life had given me an hour-long massage, topped off with a pat on the back.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, it turned out that I would very much need it.
On Monday, I drove to work and discovered that my car had taken to overheating again, and I had no money to buy any more coolant. When I arrived at work, I came to find that I was scheduled for the next six days in a row. Not like I've got anything else to do this week, and I did tell them to schedule me for anything when I got back, but it's still a bit of a jerk back to reality. I dealt with it.
Monday night, when I got home from work, I found that my dog (Prince) was bleeding profusely from one of the tumors on his stomach. Now, he was loaded up with cancer, arthritis, and was blind and deaf. We knew his days were numbered, but when that point came, we knew it was time to have him put down. So, we cried a lot, called the emergency vet clinic, and took him over. They made us sit around for 45 minutes with Prince shivering on a cold metal exam table before they actually came to euthanize him.
They tranquilized him, and his eyes finally closed and he fell asleep. Then, they injected the lethal drugs, and neglected to mention that when they took effect, certain reflexes would be activated. So here we are, my dad, my brother, and myself, all crying as they stick the needle into the IV, and listening to his breathing slow down. Suddenly, his eyes fly back open and he starts gasping, his face contorts and his body convulses. His eyes are crossed and stuck open. By this point we'd all ran out of the room, sobbing. I'm fairly sure that image will never ever leave my memory.
I'm only hoping they were telling the truth, that Prince was really dead when that happened, and not jolted back to consciousness in those final moments to find his heart stopped and his lungs no longer working. I feel like it's what we had to do, and that it was better than waiting for him to be consumed by cancer, or waiting for him to fall down a flight of stairs because he couldn't see and could barely walk. But it's taking a much longer time to reconcile that because from the horrible things I saw, nothing looked peaceful and dignified about the way he died. Since nobody I know has ever been euthanized and lived to tell the tale, I'll never know if he felt any of it or not.
We got home at 11:30, and I had to be at work at 9am, to teach a one-on-one class. I was in no condition to go to bed though, and went out for a ride with Mike to get some fresh air and clear my head. My puppy was still gone, and I was running on no sleep, but the class turned out well, and work went well otherwise. I still didn't feel right, though.
Adam and Jinah met up with me after work to treat me to sushi, in hopes of cheering me up. It largely worked. Until I got a call from my dad, stating that my grandmother was in intensive care, because she'd apparently suffered at least two heart attacks and either not known about them or not told anybody about them, and they'd caught up with her. Given that I was at dinner and she wasn't taking visitors, there was nothing that I could really do, except try not to let it get me down. Jinah and Adam told me they'd buy me some coolant, too.
So we get to Walmart (a-fucking-gain) and buy some coolant, throw it in to the engine, and drive back to my house. The car overheats. At this point, I'm inside, sitting on the couch, trying not to think, "well, my dog's dead, my grandmother's dying, and my car's dying too." That thought didn't subside, though, as evidenced by last night's away message.
This morning, my car didn't overheat, and later in the day, I got news that my grandmother was stabilized, at least for now, even though things are looking quite dire for her at the moment. After work, Jinah, Adam, and Mike treated me to the $3 movies to see Clerks 2, and here I am, typing this.
These past two (now three, whatever) days could very easily depress the hell out of anyone. I feel like I'm keeping myself fairly well-grounded considering the small amount of time that's passed. The thing that disturbs me the most is this pattern I seem to fall into every year or so. I'm positioned to succeed academically, but then something bad happens involving someone close to me, I get stressed out, stop caring, and give up.
It happened two years ago the first time I went to college, involving a whopping fight with my parents. A year ago, it happened when Brad and I broke up, which I would qualify as a more stressful ordeal than the previous year's fight. This year, my dog dies (I'll very seriously consider strangling you if you think that's not a big deal), and I might lose my grandma. And my car, $1700 after its first repair, still may be on the verge of falling apart.
I feel like it progressively gets worse and worse. But, I have to put any feelings of grief or dread on the back burner, and focus on one thing alone: avoiding self-pity at all costs. In a nutshell, shit happens. And while I'd like to feel like I'm the victim of some cosmic conspiracy, and it'd damn sure be easy to think that right now, I won't. None of this is anybody's fault, and while I'd so desperately like to blame someone, I can't. I can't blame any person, I can't blame God, and I can't blame myself. If I start to do any of those things, I'll be setting myself up for the same trains of thought that have consistently set me on a course towards apathy and failure in the past.
As much as all of this blows, I'm lucky enough to be the one doing all the mourning, rather than being the mourned. Yes, I'm in pain, but I'm alive, and that in and of itself is a mandate to keep it together, and maintain as much momentum as I can. Unlike the loved ones I've lost and may be losing, I have a long future ahead of me. And if I let myself slip on account of all this, I'd be doing them a great disservice: I love(d) them, they love(d) me, and the last thing any of us would want would be pain overtaking me, facilitating yet another crash-and-burn.
I don't know which of the stages of grief I would assign to any of my reactions, but I like to think that I'm keeping my head on straight about all this. If any of you readers have any reactions, thoughts, suggestions, or anything, please, don't hesitate to let me know.
(DB) out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
