Strength. Need. Want.
It has been a strange and interesting past week. Mostly because I barely remember it.
Adam has been working locally down at the Gaylord National Hotel and Convention Center in DC. But he has been home, we have slept together on consecutive nights, it is fulfilling and wonderful as always.
I returned from my appointment at the National Spine & Pain Center in Rockville. New refills. Still need the knee x-rays. Tomorrow will be physical therapy and biofeedback at MedStar NRH National Rehabilitation Network in Rockville. My first biofeedback session. I am excited and eager.
I need to pack luggage for almost two weeks. I need to count out enough of all my medications, I need to make sure my charcoal dress and opaque black tights are folded and ready. I shall bring my prettiest cane, with the best rubber handle.
On Friday, we will leave in the early morning and drive to New Jersey. We will stay with Adam's aunt, Ann, overnight. On Saturday, we will get dressed up and go to his cousin Stephanie's wedding. Adam knows and adores every single cousin, and I haven't met many. Stephanie is very sweet and kind. I'm not nervous about being a wedding guest as a cousin by marriage, but I imagine the amount of people will keep the Klonopin close. Adam has a large and geographically close family. We will see his parents, coming up from Florida, and I shall be thrilled to see them, of course, but will hold back kindly many things.
(Libby is the epitome and encyclopedic definition of Jewish Mother Stereotype. Overbearance, manipulation, martyrdom, powers of guilt trip beyond that of mortal humans. Our wedding in 2005 became her wedding, naturally. Everyone worked to the bone to keep me from shattering under the weight of Libby's machinations, manipulations, and cheerful cluelessness about my attempts to make it more pagan than Jewish. There was compromise. No mention of any god in the vows. The chuppa was adorded with flowers and non religious art. The ketuba was painted by my artists parents with pagan and nature symbols. Adam wore the tallit. We drank the wine. Oh, we drank the wine. I walked down the aisle to the theme to "The Princess Bride." The bridal party walked to Steeleye Span's "Black Swan." Our first dance was to The Waterboy's "Universal Hall", and we danced to pagan songs. I have blacked out most of it, but for the beautiful ceremony, in which Adam and I stared at each other with glazed, crazed expressions of "I love you more than eternity, let's run off screaming." But oh, the love kept us sane enough.)
After Stephanie's wedding, Adam and I shall continue driving north, to New York, to east Long Island, to the Hamptons, to Sag Harbor. We will spent the entire week of Thanksgiving with my parents. During that week, my friends Charlotte and William will come by to check on the cats and the house. From Sag Harbor, Adam and I will leave on Saturday morning after Thanksgiving.
By that time, my mother and I may have driven each other crazy enough to say "I love you to death, now goodbye before I kill you. Mwah." Mom may be an atheist, but Jewish Mother is a powerful hereditary spirit. Her thing is food. My parents live organic with tiny meals and no sweets unless hand made. No bread unless organic. Vegetables from the garden every day. A perfect way to eat, truly. For them. That is fine, that is wonderful, that is not how I live permanently. My mother grills me on my food habits, my weight, my shape, my lifestyle, my sweet tooth, my spending, my wants versus my needs. Her way of control is to keep me in a tight life of maintenance. No wonder when I was a child I would sneak chocolate and candy. See, my mother and I are the Gilmore Girls. We are best friends. And best friends clash and drive each other mad. But I have always done that with her. Push and push back. I love her, we talk on the phone every day, but, well, what's to be done about a mother and adult daughter who know that the daughter is mentally a child and that the mother desperately wants to hover over? Rhetorical question, there.
Oh, why am I writing this? Do I need to vent something? I don't know. So much pain and fatigue and itching and heat these last few days. Heat and itching spreading across my head, ears, neck, face, chest. My friend Crystal gets the same thing as a part of her fibromyalgia. And so I sigh and take antihistamine pills and vitamins and anti-inflammatory supplements.
The cats. Oh, the cats have been marvelous. Watchful, loving, endlessly begging for hugs and brushing and treats and pure love. Rose is perched on the arm of the couch now, watching me, occasionally leaning in to nuzzle my cheek. I am waiting for my nail polish to dry. Sally Hansen Nailgrowth Miracle in Natural Sienna. A deep bronze brown with gold sheen. My new favorite next to Divine Wine, Radiant Rose, Perfect Plum, Wholesome Earth, Mighty Mauve.
And my nails are long, strong. I want to feel as strong.
There is no longer spasticity from the cerebral palsy thanks to the Ultram and Soma, but the fibromyalgia flare attack still lingers. Oh, well. I can work with that.
When Adam was in Las Vegas last week, he picked me up a beautiful fake diamond pin in the shape of an S-curved dragon. She has ruby eyes, a fake pink diamond in her mouth. I could not stop staring at her, grinning, giggling "Shiny" over and over, which pleased Adam. I keep her at my bedside. I have not named her yet. I may name her something that means 'luck' or 'power' or 'strength' or 'hope'.
Adam has been working locally down at the Gaylord National Hotel and Convention Center in DC. But he has been home, we have slept together on consecutive nights, it is fulfilling and wonderful as always.
I returned from my appointment at the National Spine & Pain Center in Rockville. New refills. Still need the knee x-rays. Tomorrow will be physical therapy and biofeedback at MedStar NRH National Rehabilitation Network in Rockville. My first biofeedback session. I am excited and eager.
I need to pack luggage for almost two weeks. I need to count out enough of all my medications, I need to make sure my charcoal dress and opaque black tights are folded and ready. I shall bring my prettiest cane, with the best rubber handle.
On Friday, we will leave in the early morning and drive to New Jersey. We will stay with Adam's aunt, Ann, overnight. On Saturday, we will get dressed up and go to his cousin Stephanie's wedding. Adam knows and adores every single cousin, and I haven't met many. Stephanie is very sweet and kind. I'm not nervous about being a wedding guest as a cousin by marriage, but I imagine the amount of people will keep the Klonopin close. Adam has a large and geographically close family. We will see his parents, coming up from Florida, and I shall be thrilled to see them, of course, but will hold back kindly many things.
(Libby is the epitome and encyclopedic definition of Jewish Mother Stereotype. Overbearance, manipulation, martyrdom, powers of guilt trip beyond that of mortal humans. Our wedding in 2005 became her wedding, naturally. Everyone worked to the bone to keep me from shattering under the weight of Libby's machinations, manipulations, and cheerful cluelessness about my attempts to make it more pagan than Jewish. There was compromise. No mention of any god in the vows. The chuppa was adorded with flowers and non religious art. The ketuba was painted by my artists parents with pagan and nature symbols. Adam wore the tallit. We drank the wine. Oh, we drank the wine. I walked down the aisle to the theme to "The Princess Bride." The bridal party walked to Steeleye Span's "Black Swan." Our first dance was to The Waterboy's "Universal Hall", and we danced to pagan songs. I have blacked out most of it, but for the beautiful ceremony, in which Adam and I stared at each other with glazed, crazed expressions of "I love you more than eternity, let's run off screaming." But oh, the love kept us sane enough.)
After Stephanie's wedding, Adam and I shall continue driving north, to New York, to east Long Island, to the Hamptons, to Sag Harbor. We will spent the entire week of Thanksgiving with my parents. During that week, my friends Charlotte and William will come by to check on the cats and the house. From Sag Harbor, Adam and I will leave on Saturday morning after Thanksgiving.
By that time, my mother and I may have driven each other crazy enough to say "I love you to death, now goodbye before I kill you. Mwah." Mom may be an atheist, but Jewish Mother is a powerful hereditary spirit. Her thing is food. My parents live organic with tiny meals and no sweets unless hand made. No bread unless organic. Vegetables from the garden every day. A perfect way to eat, truly. For them. That is fine, that is wonderful, that is not how I live permanently. My mother grills me on my food habits, my weight, my shape, my lifestyle, my sweet tooth, my spending, my wants versus my needs. Her way of control is to keep me in a tight life of maintenance. No wonder when I was a child I would sneak chocolate and candy. See, my mother and I are the Gilmore Girls. We are best friends. And best friends clash and drive each other mad. But I have always done that with her. Push and push back. I love her, we talk on the phone every day, but, well, what's to be done about a mother and adult daughter who know that the daughter is mentally a child and that the mother desperately wants to hover over? Rhetorical question, there.
Oh, why am I writing this? Do I need to vent something? I don't know. So much pain and fatigue and itching and heat these last few days. Heat and itching spreading across my head, ears, neck, face, chest. My friend Crystal gets the same thing as a part of her fibromyalgia. And so I sigh and take antihistamine pills and vitamins and anti-inflammatory supplements.
The cats. Oh, the cats have been marvelous. Watchful, loving, endlessly begging for hugs and brushing and treats and pure love. Rose is perched on the arm of the couch now, watching me, occasionally leaning in to nuzzle my cheek. I am waiting for my nail polish to dry. Sally Hansen Nailgrowth Miracle in Natural Sienna. A deep bronze brown with gold sheen. My new favorite next to Divine Wine, Radiant Rose, Perfect Plum, Wholesome Earth, Mighty Mauve.
And my nails are long, strong. I want to feel as strong.
There is no longer spasticity from the cerebral palsy thanks to the Ultram and Soma, but the fibromyalgia flare attack still lingers. Oh, well. I can work with that.
When Adam was in Las Vegas last week, he picked me up a beautiful fake diamond pin in the shape of an S-curved dragon. She has ruby eyes, a fake pink diamond in her mouth. I could not stop staring at her, grinning, giggling "Shiny" over and over, which pleased Adam. I keep her at my bedside. I have not named her yet. I may name her something that means 'luck' or 'power' or 'strength' or 'hope'.