Friday, December 9, 2011

Three Things of Beauty and a Man

I have not been my usual charming self lately, most likely because of The Surgery.

I have known for a months and months that the shoulder needed a biopsy to conclusively determine WTF is happening to my bones in that region.  I would have had it done over the summer, but the shoulder surgeons I saw in the spring were assholes, and I would not, therefore, let them touch me.  In fairness to the young surgeon who wanted to perform a shoulder replacement on me - he was well intentioned, and once I burst into tears over his approach, he mellowed out and became exactly the kind of doctor I would like to have.  I just want a doctor who acts like that before I get so agitated and overwhelmed that I bust into tears.

The doctor who performed the recent invasive procedure is exactly the right kind of doctor.  I finally got in to see her in September, and she said it was fine to do the biopsy at Thanksgiving.  My other doctors all concurred.  In my book, that's Thing of Beauty #36-101 since concurring doctors is a rare and wonderful thing.  I have never had an issue with having a biopsy, and when I heard that the doctor would be maneuvering tiny TV cameras down into the shoulder joint and taking samples with an itty bitty melon-baller, I had no problem with that either.

I started having a problem when I got the Pre-Surgery packet in the mail from her assistant since nobody had used the word, "surgery."  Invasive Procedures are simply a pain in the ass.  Surgery is scary.  Max the Psychic Life Coach talked me down off the ceiling about all that a couple of weeks ago, which is all good - and should probably be Thing of Beauty #37-101 because helping people calm the fuck down is also a rare and wonderful ability.  It's not so rare to find people like that in my happy little world, since I seem to choose friends who have that capacity - which is probably Thing of Beauty #38-101.

By the time the nurses were checking me in for the procedure last week, I had calmed down to the point where my blood pressure was normal.  Typically, my pressure runs high - especially when doctors are taking my blood pressure.  The reason my ass has been dragging is because the doctor prescribed percocet for the pain and it's made me so woozy that I didn't want to smoke weed.  That's bad medicine in my book especially since weed is my favorite remedy for nausea.  Something had to be done.  Fortunately a different doctor had recently prescribed a different pain medicine which isn't narcotic but is stronger than Advil, and I've been able to manage on that during the day.

Still, the whole thing is troublesome.  On Monday, I have the follow up appointment with the surgeon and will hopefully get some conclusive information regarding the status of my shoulder.  I'm reasonably certain that little Pac Men are not devouring my bones - even though that's pretty much how it feels.


In a way, I'm hoping it's rheumatoid arthritis because if it's a slow moving infection, I'm going to blame that arrogant bastard who performed the original surgery back in 2007 to shorten my floppy tendons and stabilize the shoulder.  If that is the case, then I'll have to get Buzz Kill to help me sue him.  Buzz Kill is wonderful when it comes to litigation, and I'm sure he'll be glad to help me for 20%.

Buzz Kill and I get along quite well these days.  We only need to speak with each other every couple of weeks and, more importantly, he doesn't owe me substantial amounts of money.  I'm pretty sure that I experienced a major attitude shift toward Buzz Kill after seeing him in that spandex bicycle outfit with shoes that looked exactly like the white Mary Janes I wore with my Easter dress when I was two years old.


 My personal attitudes may be shifting as a result of the global paradigm shift.  Most people point to the Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street as evidence of this shift, and while I agree that these events are significant, the development which has been most persuasive for me is that I have been favorably impressed by a man even after going out with him twice.  That's the longest I've been favorably impressed with a man in years - not counting Woody, of course, but Woody lives over a thousand miles away and I've never met him in real life.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to give Match dot com one last shot since I only had about 10 more days left on my membership.  I updated my profile so that I sounded nice:
The last time I got my hair done, my hairdresser said I looked, "Causal, sexy and HOT."  Hairdressers get paid to say things like that, but I liked the sound of it and decided to use it for my Match headline.  It's not like I'm getting anywhere with Match anyway.  Evidently, the dating scene is complicated when you're over fifty.
I'm on a list of subversives compiled by the Digg Patriots and a list of Bergdorf's customers who receive free Chanel cosmetics samples in the mail.  I must be an eclectic female.  Personally, I don't see anything inconsistent about subversives who frequent Chanel counters, or a Rebel Alliance that enjoys dark chocolate and pinot noir.  But then, I'm so comfortable with chaos that I've spent the last twenty years or so with two and three year-olds.  We spend our days making rainbows with prisms and bouncing ping pong balls across the room.
I'm looking for a man who can not only take the heat but kick it up a notch.  He's going to have to be a very strong character who is smart, quick, compassionate, creative, well informed, playful, and self-indulgent with a fine appreciation of life's little ironies.
A day or two later, an attractive fellow made me a Favorite.  I wrote a pleasant response.  Once he gave me his regular email address, I was able to google him and found out that he is an accomplished film maker with Emmy awards and everything - but truly, I was more impressed by the way he read my profile closely enough see that Cat's Cradle is one of my favorite books and used Bokonist terms to chat me up.

He took me out for Barbecue last night, and we wound up talking for hours.  He's a wonderful story teller who apparently thinks I'm amazing.   He is a bit older than me, narrowly escaped the draft and was on his way to becoming a privileged, prep school version of a Black Panther when his father sent him on a three month program doing construction in West Africa.  While there, he learned that real Africans didn't think he was their Brother at all and came back thoroughly chastised.

I am cautiously optimistic.

18 comments:

intelliwench said...

This is the best thing I've read so far today -- I'm throwing more optimism your way, sister!

Susan Tiner said...

Well, the situation with the shoulder sounds like a serious bummer but since you're feeling optimistic I am sending optimistic vibes your way.

The new man in your life sounds like he could be a keeper and that makes me so happy. I know you are cautiously optimistic so I won't gush too much, but it does sound promising!

I love it that real Africans didn't think he was their brother. I'm guessing African Americans didn't think so either :).

Liberality said...

Bummer about the surgery and your shoulder. Hope everything turns out on that front.

That guy does sound interesting. You of course are a fascinating creature and so why wouldn't he be captivated?

I will also throw some optimism your way :)

Liberality said...

oh you must read this post:

http://mindhacks.com/2011/12/09/legal-marijuana-and-a-ban-on-brain-function/

WTF?

Gail said...

HI TRISH - the latter part of this post is way better than the beginning. I hate invasive anything and i love romance, so phew and hallelujah.
Love you girl;
Gail
peace.....

PENolan said...

Thanks, Intelli!
Susan, only a few hours have passed since I wrote the post, and the man is even more promising. The African American brothers fully accept him as one of their own, however, since he's just as black as they are. Surprise!

Liberality - re: mindhacks article
WTF, indeed!
re: captivating - It's nice to be appreciated, regardless

Gail - Hopefully I'll be saying "phew!" on Monday when I get the test results. For the moment, I'm looking forward to massages at physical therapy.

Woody (Tokin Librul/Rogue Scholar/ Helluvafella!) said...

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then does distance makes the temperament sweeter?
It's a bit over 2000 miles, btw...

Jenelle said...

Your writing always speaks to me personally. It completely engages me. This was a bit different than other stories since it was so personal...really personal. Thank you. Now I feel like you are one of my best friends. Please let me know how the biopsy, the shoulder and the "new" prospect turn out!

Lisa said...

I like a good romance. I hope this one continues.

Jennifer said...

Sending good thoughts re: all that invading of the shoulder. Really hope they come to some conclusions and course of action because nobody should have to live with pain. Especially people I like.

Cautiously optimistic about the new bloke for you! Wait, I don't have to be cautious about it. He sounds terrific; hope you get some fine romancing over the winter.

mac said...

I've been incapacitaded for the past couple of weeks too. Yesterday, I had my little surgery, today, I am so much better.

Congratulations on finding a suitable fella :-)

Toni said...

Surgeries, biopsies, "procedures" of all kinds are always such bummers. I have never been able to sleep the night before them. In fact, I have actually written wills at four a.m. in the hospital on various occasions. I've spent several hours standing at the window in my hospital room crying, too. They just scare the bejeezus out of me!

I think it all stems from the inability of the recovery room nurses to wake me for 12 hours after my first surgery (tonsillectomy) when I was seven.

I've been putting off getting my hernia repaired for years. A couple of months ago my doctor told me we are going to have to name it since it always enters the room before I do. I think I'll go with "Wilbur."

The new man sounds promising. A piece of advice: if he doesn't know about this blog already, don't tell him. I think it gives them too much power over us too early in the relationship, not to mention showing them our "crazy" bits. Anyway, I hope to read much more about him.

PENolan said...

@Woody - I don't think it makes the temperament sweeter, but the distance does make it easier to hang up the phone.

Jannell - what a nice compliment, and it's entirely my pleasure!

Lisa, I do too - but I'm already getting discouraged. Could be PMS talking, though.
Jenn - like I said, PMS. One thing I hate about Match is meeting somebody you like, then seeing he's online checking out other broads. Maybe a crazy woman winked at him or some other equally logical explanation that does not mean he's more interested in playing the field right now than anything else - but it still worries me which brings me back to PMS. PMS always makes me feel unlovable.

mac, hope you're on the mend soon. This invalid routine gets old quick. Plus it fucking hurts.
Love and Light

Toni - too late, he already knows about it. But I agree with you that knowing the fellow is aware of the blog does influence what I say. As far as I know, he's only looked at it once, and that was when I sent him the link. On our recent date, he was very complimentary and encouraging about my writing. All Good. My sister said that if he'd read the blog and would still go out wit me, he was a brave, confident man -but he didn't read anything about any old boyfriends. I figure I don't have to bring any of that shit up since it's on the internet for anyone to see anytime they want.
That's the good thing about Living Out Loud ;)

Gwendolyn H. Barry said...

Sweetie, you keep that 'cautious optimism' vital and dynamic! It'll get ya down the road. This guy sounds "cautiously" like a keeper. Don't forget the white Light healing at night on that shoulder .... :-)

Patricia said...

Wow! Have you been busy, surgery, buzzkill and Match.com! I am impressed. I am more impressed that you actually met someone you like, that likes you back. Good Luck! It gives me hope.

corticoWhat said...

So THAT is why I don't get nauseated! :)

Anonymous said...

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PENolan said...

GHB - I keep it close at hand. Thanks for the love and light
Patricia, I'm somewhat less hopeful now that I've noticed he's still logging in regularly to Match. He seems to go there two or three times per day - so I am assuming he's keeping his options open with other floozies. Understandable, but depressing.

Thanks, Anon
And corticoWhat - Another thing of beauty!
I don't care what the real count is - since it's such a special thing of beauty, it will be 42 on account of Hitchhiker's Guide, and LIfe, The Universe and Everything.
Much Love

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