Internal Keyboard Error

I have melted butter in my keyboard. That's all. I just felt the need to share.

Thoughts on 'Coyote Medicine'

Nearing the end of Coyote Medicine. It's been my bathroom companion, but it's far better than most of my bathroom books of late. Sometimes I think I really should have gone into the medical field. I understand the language of illness and healing... but 8 to 12 years of hard math wasn't appealing to me. That, and when it comes to the spiritual side of healing, well, much like trying to become a doctor, I won't do the work necessary. It's too easy to be who I am now. I even had this brief urge brought on by the book to ask the Universe for a teacher. Then I realized, Hel, I never leave my house - it's kind of pointless.

Anyway, the author is talking about how illnesses, much like people and animals and plants and rocks, have their own spirit. He sort of slams New Age thought about how each illness is supposedly related to one specific spiritual problem, and I can understand his point of view. No one's cancer or chronic illness is caused by the same thing that anyone else's illness is caused by - but many do have roots in metaphysical causes instead of just bacteria, viruses and genetics. But, some illnesses are better fought with the aid of modern chemistry and medicine - and I will dare anyone to say that drinking two cups of willow bark tea is an easier thing to do than just popping an aspirin. Unless, of course, they like willow bark tea.

My back and knees are a good example. The spine is the primary structural support for the body and nerves. For so many years, I've had to be my own emotional support system. No one around me has provided support for me beyond putting the barest minimums of roofs over my head and occasionally some food, and many times, continuing even now, I've supported and carried others to my own detriment. My spine is slowly continuing to twist and bend. The knees are what bend the legs, keep them flexible and able to perform precision movement. My knees suffer from my interior inflexibility and stiffness. All those years of drama class teachers telling the pupils, "don't lock your knees" kind of went over my head I guess. A willow will survive the severest of storms because it lashes and sways with the gale. An oak will eventually topple. I'm an oak tree. Of course, knowing this, it's still been really hard to ask and accept help, even when I was on the crutches. I will avoid asking for help like the plague, and my spine and knees will probably continue to suffer.

( I digress )

My mother's lung cancer is another example. I don't know when she first developed it, but by the time I was 7 or so she was going to doctors and having the first surgeries done. When I was 8 and 9, she was losing more of her lungs as the cancer metastatized. I have an idea of why my mother developed lung cancer. From the time I can remember, I never heard her and my dad ever fight. I never heard them have heated discussions. I never heard her on the phone screaming at Jody or Terry. She rarely screamed at me - but then again I was terrified of the woman for the most part, never wanted her to even raise her voice at me, and did as little as possible to honestly piss her off. It might have even been part of her frustration - sometimes you want to have a reason, no matter how small, to yell at someone. It's not right or healthy, but we all tend to take out our frustrations and anger and irritation on those in closest proximity. Jody and Terry as kids would scream back at her and curse at her and defy her and, unfortunately, she was able to take her rage out on them physically as well as mentally and emotionally. I think something happened when I was very small, involving a brutal beating that my dad interrupted, that put a stop to all that - and she was stuck at home with a quiet and obediant child who never gave her an excuse to lift her hand in anger. When I really think about it and try to remember, I got swatted, popped in the back of the head and smacked in the face a lot, but if it was a major spanking it was always my dad's job. And as often as not, he would hit me with whatever came to hand - a broom, a mop, a belt, a book, a dog leash. And most of the physical shit stopped when I was 5 or 6.

My dad could scream in seven different languages, but my mother didn't talk much at all. She was a quiet woman. She would have conversations with people and I know she was intelligent and deep, but she didn't chatter idly, she didn't gossip... and around the house it was almost always silent. The television would be low, or there would be the radio, also low. I think my mother kept everything in and it slowly suffocated her. Moreso than the breasts or even our feet, the lungs connect us to the world - the air we breathe has been recycled over millennia and joins us to all the life out there. It's an intimate process of exhalation and inhalation, respiration and transpiration. My mother encouraged her body to separate her from the rest of the world, cut her off from all that is, and it killed her in the end.

I dunno. My thoughts are not well thought-out. It's mostly tired ramblings. I have to go back to work on the 12fth. I was kind of pissed off this entire month. Yeah, it's been a nice break and I've gotten some things accomplished as far as school goes, but... I really wanted to be able to get another job. I wanted to clean up my resume and get it out there, maybe go take another typing test. There were things around the house I wanted to do, and maybe just have some quality me-time. Instead, I've been sort of stuck with myself, tied to a pair of chairs, one for my ass & the other for my knee. Every time I'd put my leg down for more than 15 minutes, it would blow up like a water balloon, and then my foot would swell up and start to throb. Then my calf started cramping. Then the bottom of my foot started getting weird nerve pain, kind of like the feeling you get after you've stepped on a nasty rock. Just struggling to heave myself around on the crutches - but I lost 4 more pounds in the process & am below 220 for the first time in decades it seems. For all the fast food I've been stuck eating, it's a minor miracle. I think all 4 pounds came out of my right leg. (I also have arm muscles on the tops of my upper arms - now I've just got to get rid of the windflaps under my arms.) I went grocery shopping tonight and then cooked dinner - I kind of overdid it I think. My left foot hurts because I keep forgetting to distribute my weight over both feet. The wind got bad today & Ed kind of freaked out, so I spent some time communing with him.

Ah well. It'll be back to work & then a psych course over the summer will eat my time... less time for blogging and frustration and introspection & back to the daily 'hate-my-job-hate-my-lfe' routine. It never changes.