Friday, January 25, 2008

woman, interrupted--again

The Yorkie had heart surgery three weeks ago and sleeps in. We want him resting and we don’t want him jumping off the bed, so during his recuperation time, in the early morning I cuddle in the bed with him, as do the two white dogs and the two inside cats. That we would get heart surgery for our dog and the number of inside pets shedding fur may give you some hint of my "normal" mental state, along with the fact we did not go out and pick one of those pets. Some we stole from my daughter, and others were strays. Let’s not even go into pet history, though I will tell you we have only two outside/porch cats now, which doesn’t include the neighbor cat who comes for supper, nor the stray I haven’t seen in a while. The raccoons or the across-the-street wandering blind lab don't count as pets.

Enough. I wanted to download pictures during my snuggly session in the bed. I had to gather up the camera, the base of the camera, the cords, and the adapter for my lap top. The outlet is very inconveniently behind the bed. In order to plug in the adapter, I thought I had to unplug the air-conditioner. I lay down on the floor despite the creaky knees, and even though I once had several really nasty spider bites requiring visits to a doctor, I would not think of brown reculse spiders FESTERING UNDER THE BED. I tried to reach the outlet from first one side of the bed, then the other. No dice. For one thing, I’ve got this pain in my shoulder when I extend my arm which probably is a sign of poor eating habits and age. I’m not sure about the age part, because I never look in the mirror, but I am fairly certain about the poor eating habits. I tried to move the bed. Again, no dice. I tried to shift the mattresses. Still, no dice. I shoved my arm between the head board and the plank next to the box spring and mattress and jiggled the air-conditioner cord loose. I didn't know how I was going to plug it back in, but that was something to be done tat (tomorrow at Tara).

I discovered we had one of those extender strips in that outlet and I hadn’t had to unplug the air-conditioner. No matter now, I again shoved my arm between the head board and the plank next to the mattresses so I could plug in the adapter. It was a tight squeeze and it occurred to me my arm might get stuck. Though some wiggling was required, it didn’t.

Now I had to plug in the camera base. I remembered I might have an extension cord in the front hall closet. I did. Now I could plug the camera base in the outlet on the outside wall. I did. I jumped in the bed, ready to plug my camera into my laptop and play away while my little dog recuperated in the company of all his furry siblings. The table lamp went out. I had knocked the extender strip loose, and now the clock, the lamp and the laptop were unplugged. I stuffed my arm back in the narrow opening between the two boards. Almost reached it. Just jig that arm a little more. Done.

My elbow had slipped all the way between the two boards. I was stuck. I was really stuck. I couldn’t move the mattresses. I had the phone. Even if I called my husband to come home and he came, all the circulation would probably be cut off to the lower part of my arm, and it would probably have to be AMPUTATED. I considered going ahead and gnawing my arm off above the elbow.

No. I could do this. I pressed on the mattresses, I pulled my arm back with slow steady pressure, ignoring that it HURT, and felt like I was CRUSHING ALL THE VESSELS in the arm. Pop. I was released.

But my arm around elbow was probably going to bruise like hell, and I would probably get A BLOOD CLOT, AND IT WOULD PROBABLY DETACH, AND IT WOULD PROBABLY LODGE IN THOSE ARTERIES I AM PRETTY SURE I HAVE CLOGGED FROM MY BAD EATING HABITS, AND I WOULD PROBABLY HAVE A HEART ATTACK AND DIE, AND MY HUSBAND WOULD BE LEFT IN HIS GRIEF TO GO TO WORK AND TAKE CARE OF ALL THE FUR, AND IT WOULD BE ALL MY FAULT.

I’ve been this way all my life. I can obsess about myself, my kids, the pets, and if you hang out around here, about you. This is why you’ve found me tripping down the metaphysical path, looking for a better way. Because if energy patterns continue after death, I definitely want to be done with this one.

2 comments:

Nicole said...

Oh my!

Are you ok?

I still want to come be your maid/cook so you can write and not worry.

Did you get to play with the pictures in bed??

bipolarlawyercook said...

I find that filling a Camelbak with lots of red sangria helps with this kind of thing. After all, it's noon somewhere. And the SangriaBak works great for washing down the Xanax.