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Friday, November 07, 2008

stream of consciousness (plus facial interpretations by Mr Depp)

I don't know what happened this week. 

The weather has been unusual for a Canadian November: Sunshine!  Humidity!  Warmth!  

My stomache has been back in the state of queasiness that's dogged me since I went on the Side-effex-or earlier this year: Don't! Eat! You! Might! Barf!

I have not barfed.  But my chaps are loose again.  I'd like to say that's a good thing but it's never good to lose weight because you could not eat.

In the last week, my special email inbox has been mysteriously quiet.  Literary Agents! Preoccupied!  Publishing company disasters!  Elections!  Honestly it's not because they don't like my query letter!!!!

All night I have vivid detailed dreams.  I wake up in the dark with my flannel jammies soaked with sweat, drops running down my neck, shivering as I pull the blankets back over my shoulders and sink back down into a world of dark rooms with pictures of people I never wanted to see again, while the red horse I miss so much stands outside, ears pointed in my direction, and long lost loved ones speak to me as though we just saw each other yesterday.  The moonlight is in the wrong place.  It shouldn't be coming in the north windows.  He offers me something to eat and I cry softly because I can't, and I can't cry either, only in dreams, and his chest is warm and big and solid.  No matter how I stretch my arms I can't reach around his back.  I'll never hold him tight enough.  I want to stop walking down wet sidewalks and sit under the trees, the branches thinning out until only one yellow dry leaf dangles, swaying in a breeze I can't feel.  I don't know why I can't see the plowed field in real life.  It should be there.

I wake up with a struggle and the sharp pains still shoot under my skin, up through my neck and across my scalp into my eyes.  My lips are in shock.  I have to eat, I have to take that big red capsule.  Move slowly!  Blink softly!  

Despite my muddy brain and gurgling guts, I've been somewhat functional.  I got to that riding lesson and rode the big old horse with his giant bouncing trot.  I had to sit out a few times to let the nausea pass.  But I got through it.  I slowly raked a few clouds of leaves into the flower gardens, I swept floors, I hung the rag rugs up to dry after washing them.  I cooked a meal during a break in the queasiness.  I have managed to hold things together just enough to keep it from all falling apart, and today I'm not going anywhere.  I'm home, on the couch, with a dog on my feet and a cat balanced between my arm and the computer. I am blinking slowly!  Typing slowly!  

This will pass because it has to.  

It's been  a weird week.

Like, even for me.  Weirder than my usual form of weird.

I'm confused but what else is new?

This week's visual representation of my state of mind will be brought to you by my favourite actor, not not Daffy Duck, the other one.  Although come to think of it, I believe Brad made an appearance again last night, wearing that funny little tweed cap, while I was sitting on a hammock, invisible, in an explosives warehouse, watching him fill a burlap sack with fireworks.  Brad you sneaky thief.  He had about 14 kids with him.  I may or may not have been one of them.  

Take it away, Johnny.  








seeya monday.

11 comments:

CindyDianne said...

Have a fabulous weekend!

Biddie said...

Must be something in the air.
The warm November air.
I have had dreams all week about lost loved ones. Some are gone forever and others are just gone from me.
I miss them all the same.
I have dreams where I see my Dad and he tells me that his death was a story made up by....? He never really does tell me who, but I can guess.
How long have you been on the pills now? Should you still be unable to eat?
I would love to find a pill that would make not want to eat, but not being able to is something although different.
Spencer's car is still not fixed. I wanted to head out to the farm one of these days. See you, and maybe stop by to see my Dad. It has been about 5 years since I have been there. Way too long.

Heidi said...

again... as always... elegantly written.

I always love Johnny in the glasses. It's hard to believe all these photos are the same guy. Versatility!!

Heidi the Hick said...

Versatility, yes, that's just one of the reasons I love him so much!

Heidi, I never thought of anything about me as "elegant" so you're a great ego boost... I always just thought I lean towards run on sentences too much.

Bid, I miss you. it's too crazy. I drive through your neck of the woods on my way to mine and try to calculate when I'll have an hour to visit you or even just to call you. It would be so great if you could come out to the farm. You should meet the new barn cats - I guarantee you will LOVE them!

You know I've always had vivid dreams but these are just knocking me out. I'd like to say I'm enjoying them. The problem is that they just don't stop. It's constant. I wake up tired. Not good.

I've been on those pills since March, I think. Yeah, you'd think the eating problems would be over by now but you know me, Little Miss Intolerant. Sadly I don't think a magic pill exists.

Cindy- I'm trying. jethro says he's going to build me a new shed today but I prefer to call it a Tiny Barn. Not sure how he's going to do this, since it gets dark at 5 pm, but every now and then he amazes me, so we'll see.

hayseed said...

That really was a well-written account of a vivid dream-I've also been having strange dreams lately, the most awful one of an overflowing toilet (!)-o.k. you probably didn't need to know that, but honestly, is there anything that renders a person more panicked and helpless?...and I'm only saying that because our septic tank was overfull once, and when I turned on the washing machine water started shooting out of the toilets. Country living does have its down side. We now get our tank regularly pumped.

So anyway, forget I said all this, but feel better soon.

pseudosu said...

You write beautifully!
Hang in there. You need to figure out the eating thing (no duh).
Hierarchy of human needs hon.

This is pretty out there but maybe research what chemo patients eat. They're always sick, but have to try to get their strength up. Maybe there are tricks to be learned.

Kerri said...

I love the last pic! Gosh Heidi, you are so good at putting thoughts into words, even if it's describing something intangible. I hope you're feeling better, and hey, write down those dreams. You may find a pattern in there-- or source material.

Heidi the Hick said...

I'm feeling better today (Monday) and still don't know exactly what that was all about. Very weird.

I'd like to blame the drugs - I'd like to blame drugs for everything - but I don't know what happened. I don't think I missed a pill one morning, but even so, that wouldn't do it because I started feeling weird the night before... and of course I didn't go see my doctor because I just didn't want to and as you know I'M STUBBORN so I waited it out.

whatevs...

mugwump said...

You waited it out and you're better. Good thing.
When I come through a dark patch I like to work outside alone.The sounds of the horses, wind, and just the clatter and bang from my own work seem clear and sweet. Same goes for the sights and smells.

Heidi the Hick said...

I agree, getting outside always helps.

Sometimes just getting out of the house is the hardest part.

This weekend, with the shooting pains, moving was awful. Even turning my head too fast brought it on. By Saturday afternoon I could move verrrry slowly, but my skin was still terribly sensitive. I just put on my raincoat and puttered. In slow motion.

Better than not moving at all. Spent Friday on the couch and after a whole day of not moving I felt like I was wearing a borrowed body. Not good.

Gah. I gotta get up and have a Monday now.

Heidi the Hick said...

"The sounds of the horses, wind, and just the clatter and bang from my own work seem clear and sweet. Same goes for the sights and smells.

Yeah, that's therapy.