Thursday, May 31, 2012
A break that I didn't have time to notice
Just noticed that I went 5 days between posts. I'm not going to look back, but that was probably the first time this year I had such a long break. It was such a nice time, I wish I'd captured more of it. Maybe I'll have time later to pick a couple of nice thoughts from it; I can think of a couple things I'd like to record to look back over in the future.
Very weird, and not quite fear
I know what fear and paranoia feel like. I know their physical manifestations: the increased heart rate, the cold extremities, the physical edginess, the fight or flight posture. My therapists made sure of that because so much of abuser's dynamics have their roots in deeply-seated fear and they can never really break their cycle without recognizing it so they can respond differently to it.
So what the hell was last night? I had none of those indicators going on. I just thought there was an outside chance that infection would take hold of me in the night. If I died, I was confident I'd be going home into God's loving arms, or if I'm wrong about that, have my consciousness utterly vanish and my body rot into worm food. Still, I didn't want it to happen, was sure enough that it wasn't happening that I didn't think I needed to make a visit to the ER, but wanted to keep an eye on things to make sure they didn't deteriorate. And I wanted to make sure I didn't leave any loose ends with the one on earth I'm closest to. Geez, if I had actually died after a small argument over something so trivial, she'd have felt terrible!
Now, to get the new day going, and leave the weird emotional infection of the night behind.
So what the hell was last night? I had none of those indicators going on. I just thought there was an outside chance that infection would take hold of me in the night. If I died, I was confident I'd be going home into God's loving arms, or if I'm wrong about that, have my consciousness utterly vanish and my body rot into worm food. Still, I didn't want it to happen, was sure enough that it wasn't happening that I didn't think I needed to make a visit to the ER, but wanted to keep an eye on things to make sure they didn't deteriorate. And I wanted to make sure I didn't leave any loose ends with the one on earth I'm closest to. Geez, if I had actually died after a small argument over something so trivial, she'd have felt terrible!
Now, to get the new day going, and leave the weird emotional infection of the night behind.
Let me get this straight:
If it turned out that this arm was getting severely infected, and I ended up losing consciousness and dying tonight without our ever exchanging another word, you'd rather have the last thing we ever said to each other be a fight over something that small than an apology?
Fuck you.
That isn't what I would want my last words to you to be, though. I love you anyway, and I forgive you. If I were a better man, I'd strike the two-word paragraph above completely. I'm sorry. You deserved better. You've always deserved better than you've gotten from me
If I were to die without ever speaking to you again, I'd sure hope that someone who reads what I share here would let you know about this, so that you would have the comfort of knowing I didn't go to my grave angry with you, but loving you.
(cue Statler Brothers' tune)
Fuck you.
That isn't what I would want my last words to you to be, though. I love you anyway, and I forgive you. If I were a better man, I'd strike the two-word paragraph above completely. I'm sorry. You deserved better. You've always deserved better than you've gotten from me
If I were to die without ever speaking to you again, I'd sure hope that someone who reads what I share here would let you know about this, so that you would have the comfort of knowing I didn't go to my grave angry with you, but loving you.
(cue Statler Brothers' tune)
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
A paktong lining
The one advantage of the maddening itch of this extreme case of contact dermatitis I'm battling is that it has given me a chance to blog a little in the wee hours of the morning while I wait for the latest dose of Benadryl to knock me back out.
The unfortunate results of my now-blistering allergic reaction include my loss of sleep, my forfeiture of a few hours of my aunt's company, and a need to call my doctor early in the morning to find out what he wants to do for me. This is so bad he may want me to come in for a shot, I think. I have never had so bad a case of this before, and I don't seem able to think of anything else.
Still, I want to give thanks for the wonderful company we had over the weekend, and lift up prayers for those whom I know need it. I'm so grateful that the Bryans were interested in buying our concert tickets; even though I would have liked to give them to them, it was nice to recoup most of our investment in them. I'm hopeful that Cathy will experience the healing she needs, either miraculously or medically. Her surgery is scheduled just past mid-June.
Cassie and Nic's friend who was injured in Afghanistan is apparently back in ICU following a seizure. What a tough road he and his family have already traveled, and there are still more challenges ahead for them.
And Lord, on a much smaller note, if you would please provide healing for this allergic reaction in the way that best glorifies you, I will be sure as always to share the wonderful thing you have done for me. For I know that your love makes the worthless precious, and the mundane glorious.
paktong - (Argenten, nickel silver, German silver) an alloy of copper with nickel and zinc.
The unfortunate results of my now-blistering allergic reaction include my loss of sleep, my forfeiture of a few hours of my aunt's company, and a need to call my doctor early in the morning to find out what he wants to do for me. This is so bad he may want me to come in for a shot, I think. I have never had so bad a case of this before, and I don't seem able to think of anything else.
Still, I want to give thanks for the wonderful company we had over the weekend, and lift up prayers for those whom I know need it. I'm so grateful that the Bryans were interested in buying our concert tickets; even though I would have liked to give them to them, it was nice to recoup most of our investment in them. I'm hopeful that Cathy will experience the healing she needs, either miraculously or medically. Her surgery is scheduled just past mid-June.
Cassie and Nic's friend who was injured in Afghanistan is apparently back in ICU following a seizure. What a tough road he and his family have already traveled, and there are still more challenges ahead for them.
And Lord, on a much smaller note, if you would please provide healing for this allergic reaction in the way that best glorifies you, I will be sure as always to share the wonderful thing you have done for me. For I know that your love makes the worthless precious, and the mundane glorious.
paktong - (Argenten, nickel silver, German silver) an alloy of copper with nickel and zinc.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Memorial Day
(written on 6/2, with a post date of 5/28)
Sunday night I was miserably itchy, and slept extremely poorly as a result. I was determined to try to sleep as long as possible this morning, and decided to skip Memorial Day Mass. But once everyone was up and about getting ready, there wasn't any point in trying to stay in bed. I got up about 20 minutes before the service and managed to be ready in time to be there, though that precluded any possibility of participating in the music ministry. I was pretty irritable, too, from the physical discomfort and lack of sleep. I was annoyed I hadn't gotten an early-morning ride in as I'd wanted, knowing it would have made the physical effect of the allergy reaction even worse. I was glad I went to Mass, though I missed playing all the great guitar-oriented pieces that were on the menu.
I came home and napped for a while, then begged off the get-together at our friends' house who'd just gotten back from their out-of-town wedding. I just didn't want to be that far away from home if the itchies kicked in again, which they did after everyone was gone for about an hour. I watched a Mythbusters or two in their absence. But the worse than missing the party and worse than being so physically uncomfortable was missing out on this last evening with my aunt. She was really understanding about it, but still. I was disappointed. She's going home tomorrow, and I'm going to try to get in to see the doctor. It's pretty obvious that my body is going to need some chemical assistance to fight off this allergic reaction.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Pentecost: Flash Mob!
(written on 6/2, with a posting date of 5/27)
When one of our cantors suggested that it might be nice to start our Pentecost prelude from the congregation, we weren't entirely sure how well it would work, let alone how it might be received even if it went well. But we knew we'd need additional voices to pull it off. Our choir is just too small to be considered any kind of mob. So we all eagerly went about recruiting additional voices whom we could be confident could at least hold a tune. At Wednesday's rehearsal, I was still skeptical. We probably had about ten extra folks there, but I knew we'd need more to make it really work, and we were missing some of our regulars. Still, even the rehearsal went well enough for us to tell that this could really be special.
Come, Holy Spirit! Come!
I was so excited to learn that Teri's sister and brother-in-law would be here in time for it. They were originally planning to arrive during the week for their goddaughter's husband's graduation from the police academy, but the cousins they were to visit along the way were called out of town due to a brother's illness. On Sunday morning, we probably had about ten additional new singers, plus all of our regulars there. We ran through the melody and the staging with them, and finished our rehearsing far earlier than usual. Everyone took their places among the congregation except the director and I - the guitar kept me tethered in place.
As the soloist started singing and making his way forward from the back of the church, I saw our pastor about halfway up the aisle look over in my direction. I'd soloed on the same piece at the previous mass, but was just playing at this point. When the soloist walked past him, he turned around and looked over his shoulder, completely taken by surprise. We were just getting started. As we began the refrain, the rest of us began singing. One group stood for the first phrase, another for the second, and finally the rest of the group for the latter half of the refrain. The congregation was indeed surprised, and most of them stood, as well.
While the soloist sang the second verse, the "mobsters" worked their way forward to the choir area, mostly arriving in time to begin the harmonies on the second refrain. We were all in place for the harmonized crescendo of the bridge, and finished the final refrain and coda strongly. It went extremely well, and was quite uplifting and, more importantly, very well received!
The rest of the day was not quite what we'd planned. We'd begged off of one party invitation because of our guests, and the one to which they'd have been welcome was cancelled. So we enjoyed a casual day of hanging out, concluding with a trip to Graeter's to use the ice cream gift cards that the extras had gotten for their participation in the flash mob. If only the poison ivy on my arms wasn't getting worse . . .
When one of our cantors suggested that it might be nice to start our Pentecost prelude from the congregation, we weren't entirely sure how well it would work, let alone how it might be received even if it went well. But we knew we'd need additional voices to pull it off. Our choir is just too small to be considered any kind of mob. So we all eagerly went about recruiting additional voices whom we could be confident could at least hold a tune. At Wednesday's rehearsal, I was still skeptical. We probably had about ten extra folks there, but I knew we'd need more to make it really work, and we were missing some of our regulars. Still, even the rehearsal went well enough for us to tell that this could really be special.
Come, Holy Spirit! Come!
I was so excited to learn that Teri's sister and brother-in-law would be here in time for it. They were originally planning to arrive during the week for their goddaughter's husband's graduation from the police academy, but the cousins they were to visit along the way were called out of town due to a brother's illness. On Sunday morning, we probably had about ten additional new singers, plus all of our regulars there. We ran through the melody and the staging with them, and finished our rehearsing far earlier than usual. Everyone took their places among the congregation except the director and I - the guitar kept me tethered in place.
As the soloist started singing and making his way forward from the back of the church, I saw our pastor about halfway up the aisle look over in my direction. I'd soloed on the same piece at the previous mass, but was just playing at this point. When the soloist walked past him, he turned around and looked over his shoulder, completely taken by surprise. We were just getting started. As we began the refrain, the rest of us began singing. One group stood for the first phrase, another for the second, and finally the rest of the group for the latter half of the refrain. The congregation was indeed surprised, and most of them stood, as well.
While the soloist sang the second verse, the "mobsters" worked their way forward to the choir area, mostly arriving in time to begin the harmonies on the second refrain. We were all in place for the harmonized crescendo of the bridge, and finished the final refrain and coda strongly. It went extremely well, and was quite uplifting and, more importantly, very well received!
The rest of the day was not quite what we'd planned. We'd begged off of one party invitation because of our guests, and the one to which they'd have been welcome was cancelled. So we enjoyed a casual day of hanging out, concluding with a trip to Graeter's to use the ice cream gift cards that the extras had gotten for their participation in the flash mob. If only the poison ivy on my arms wasn't getting worse . . .
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