Wednesday, June 8, 2022

 

Wednesday, June 8, 2022     

 

   I slept deeply, like a baby. The hydrocodone and Tylenol combination created this lovely, relaxed state. I was high. I have never enjoyed being high before. Because of my underlying complex PTSD, being numbed was unpleasant. It increased the sense of underlying danger. Because of the work I did with Shelly the other day, facing the underlying terror my mother evoked in me, I could let things slide more easily. Okay, so if I hadn't taken care of certain things, it would result in the ruin and waste of some food items. Okay, so I hadn't written down everything I'd done for the updates. Who the hell would care?

   Following the visiting PT's advice, I took one Vicodin every six hours again instead of spacing it out. I had been up to eleven hours between pills. I learned the spinal block was designed to last five days. My real pain would be starting now. I felt some tenderness in the buttocks and the top of the thigh but nothing to write home about. The scary pain was the one running down my lower leg, ankle, and foot. That was sciatica. I was still wondering if I would be better off as a result of the surgery or if I had traded one problem for another, "The surgery was a success, but the patient died," type of problem.

    Yvette slept here again last night. She and Josh are still maintaining distance to be sure there is no way she can catch Covid from him. She goes downstairs to shower. She goes in the backdoor to avoid all contact with Josh. He turned on the fan in her bathroom a few days ago. Other than that, he rarely goes into that area of the house. He had his separate bathroom.

       It was wonderful having Yvette hang out up here. I heard her and Shivani laugh together while I napped. Total joy! After Yvette returned from buying something for Josh in town, she and I participated in childcare while Shivani got some work done in the library before her flight home. Yvette covered it alone for an hour while I had an appointment with Shelly. I worked on sadness and loneliness today. I have several family members who don't like me and never have. I have no idea what my sins against them are. As things have gotten worse between us, I'm sure they can point to a thing I've done and say, "See!" But this antagonism toward me predates those incidents. They simply have never taken pleasure in my company. It's confusing for me because I can take pleasure in the company of most people. There is always something interesting about the other person. I love discovering their perspective and how it differs from mine. When I don't like something about someone, I speak up and ask for change where possible. One of my relatives told me outright that they shouldn't have to tell me what the problem is; I should know. The argument is that when you know people, you know what they think, and you shouldn't have to be told. Maybe this is a skill this person has; I sure don't. I can make a good guess, but I ask to confirm my thinking. It's all water under the bridge now. It hurts never-the-less. These failed relationships are a source of continuing grief for me, more than my loss of Mike.  

      I don't know for sure how Mike felt about our relationship. He certainly put out the message that he was reasonably happy. He had underlying unresolved problems that complicated all his relationships. Still, he always had a joyful smile for me. Whatever our relationship was, it was enough for me. I experienced it as a success. He was sufficiently respectful and loving and supportive to make it all enough. Was he perfect in any of those three categories? Probably not. But that wasn't necessary. While he feared conflict more than I, he was open to joyful negotiation. He didn't see every difference in need and opinion as an occasion to fight to the death or concede, selling himself out. He was explicit about trusting my goodwill toward him. We both wished each other the best and rejoiced when the other was happy. It was so restful. But I regress.

  After speaking to the gardener about spraying the yard with vinegar, I put out an APB to Yvette, Josh, Judy, Paulette, B, and Lutz to pick up crates of vinegar from Costco for weeding. Lutz replied that I was better off with the vinegar from Home Depot with a 30% acid count rather than the food grade from Costco with a 5% acid count. Then Lutz proposed ordering a 50-gallon tank of 100% acetic acid, which he knew how to dilute. I told him to look into the price.

   The last time the gardener was here, he told me about a price increase and lamented he couldn't get more done because he had to devote time to hand weeding. Josh and Yvette are clear that no Round-Up is to be used on the property. It finally occurred to me that I could have the gardeners spray with vinegar instead of having me do whatever I could, which is sadly quite limited. I agreed to buy one of those large backpack sprayers and provide the vinegar. That led to me asking everyone to pick up cases for me.

   Shivani was all packed and ready to go. She made a quick run to the Pine Tree Café to buy Kona coffee as gifts. Yvette drove her to the airport. I wasn't going to try to get in and out of the car if I didn't have to. 

   Yvette was still up here. We had a lovely conversation. Things between us may improve since I confronted my historical terror. I believe she suffers from the same thing. We scare the shit out of each other as a result.  

  I napped after Shivani and Sidney left. I was in a lot of pain in my lower leg. I got scared when that happened. I couldn't find a comfortable spot. I shifted position every five minutes. I dug my right heel into the left side of my left foot. That relieved that pain, and I fell asleep. Shortly after three, I lay down, just in time for Fresh Air with Terry Gross. I woke up at five. I guess I needed the sleep. I hope I can sleep through the night. I won't go to bed early.

  I needed to continue using the walker, so I didn't adopt a compensating gait. When I don't use the walker, my left hip hurts, and I put all my weight on my right leg. That's the maneuver I want to avoid.

        I had a chocolate craving. This is the first time since the operation. That's a good sign my appetite is returning. Yvette came home with a bar of Orange Dark chocolate the other day a client gave her. She didn't want it. I've never been interested in dark chocolate until I had some that Darby brought over the other day. It was locally produced. Boy, was that ever good. It wasn't bitter. I think they used a lot of vanilla. Probably also locally grown. 

  B came in around 7 pm while I was feeding Elsa and washing the dishes. He delivered a gallon of 30% vinegar from Home Depot. That may be enough. He questioned how we were going to be able to handle a 50-gallon tank of acid Lutz had proposed. Where were we going to store it? How were we going to get it on the property? I was glad he brought these questions up. I figured Lutz might have answers, but they may not be ones I like. It was good that I knew what to ask about.

   The other day I said something to B about not knowing something. He made some comment about my knowing everything. Geez, Louise. Boy, do I not know everything. I made some comment: the person who knows the most about everything in the world probably only knows 2% of what is to be known. There is so much information out there. We have to live with not knowing. They say the recognition of ignorance is a sign of intelligence. I must be brilliant by that measure.

  Yvette slept up here again. This was partially to avoid contact with Josh, whose Covid tests still show a faint positive, and to keep me company. I asked her to spend some nights up here. I was scared to be alone, feeling vulnerable from the operation. Mike spoiled me. I knew I had him glued to my side when I needed him. He was a wonderful partner. He made me happy.