2005-12-12 - 1:54 p.m.

Reason #873 that I cannot ever have a child. I get so fucked up about illness that I cannot function normally myself.

My cat, Squishy Cat, had to be taken to the vet last Sunday morning before we left for Vienna. All day Saturday he was fucked up but I kept thinking he was just nauseous from the INTERFERON treatment they had given him at the vet on Friday. (they wanted to boost his immunity in order to get rid of the mouth ulcers he keeps getting (and I still don’t think his problem is the mouth ulcers, I still think it is the tooth) so they started him on a treatment they use for cancer and AIDS patients)…anyway, I kept thinking that after 24 hours or so he would feel better and everything would be hunky dory. When I woke up on Sunday he was WORSE, not better. So we took him to the emergency vet, who admitted him, and then we left for Vienna.

I expected to get him back when we returned from Vienna on Wednesday…but….he was just allowed to come home (on a trial basis) last night. He goes back tomorrow to see how he is doing. So far I am not impressed with his “improvement”. I do have to keep remembering that he has been in a cage for the last six days…that can’t make a cat happy.

ANYWAY, the point is…that from Saturday last until Sunday now I’ve been a complete disaster. I can’t even remember what it is that I normally do during the day and I’ve reverted back to reading cookbooks in the sunshine because doing anything else finds me too distracted and disastrous. I can’t do any task or even watch 10 minutes of TV without jumping up thinking I have something else to do. It’s weird.

And, I’ve also gone back to nightmares. For the last few years I’ve been plagued with nightmares and only recently did they begin to diminish. They are back now. The other night I watched men being drained of blood, to just the brink of death, in large bathtubs and then they were hoisted out, limp and barely alive, by cranes and moved to recovery areas and then, after they recovered they were drained again. My husband was kidnapped by the blood drainer and I had to rescue him, and I did, and then we were hiding out in a dark, Icelandic town (in an English Pub) and the blood drainer found us and took us back to the tubs. It was terrible. That is just one of many nightmares I have been having. There has been a lot going on lately.

Flying on airplanes.
The cat.
Uncertainty about tomorrow.
Still learning to be dependent on someone other than myself.
That ham.
First year of marriage. (okay, so we’ve been married longer than a year, but this is our first year living together…and everything is GOOD, but I am very fragile about things and sometimes (okay, all the time) when something is bothering Eric or something goes wrong in the house or the cats do something stupid I feel that I have ruined his life. And that makes me very, very sad. MIND YOU, Eric does nothing to make me feel that way, he is a very loving and kind and gentle husband…it is my own thing…my own fucked upness.)
Anxiety about what I am going to do with the rest of my life.
The realization that I need a home. A permanent one.
Language issues.
A resolve to not give up on this Spain thing until I am very happy and will miss Spain when I leave. (It is tough to choose a positive route…it takes a lot of courage and strength.)
The increasing feeling that I have been stripped completely bare of EVERYTHING. (Again, I can make this a good thing or a bad thing and I am trying to make it a good thing.)
And so on and so forth.

SO. Vienna was great. I….stayed at a beautiful hotel that was very comfortable. Everything felt very ergonomic and was obviously chosen carefully. Had a massage, IN MY ROOM. Got my haircut for the first time in eight months. (The hair guy said to me, “did you cut your own bangs?” and I said, “Yes,” and he said, “Were you drunk?”) (Hair guy was also deliciously sexy but only because he was speaking with a German accent and could wash hair like no one else.) Went to a Christmas Market and in true form, Eric and I stopped at all the stands for a hot (alcoholic) beverage. It was lovely. We bought Christmas ornaments for our first Christmas tree (which is still waiting to be decorated). Went to the greatest grocery store on earth (which deserves an entire entry of its own) and finally was able to get a Braeburn apple. I love, adore, suffer from a lack of, Braeburn apples. Saw The Nutcracker and was on the verge of happy tears throughout the entire ballet. (I also almost cracked up laughing in the middle of The Nutcracker…the snowflakes in this particular ballet were dressed in tight white costumes that showed EVERYTHING and they were all glittery. Every time they came on stage the orchestra men who weren’t playing would STAND UP and crane their necks to see the snowflakes. It was REALLY funny.) Suffered through my first opera and think I will never go to another. (This is what you could have heard between Eric and me if you were seated by us…”This wouldn’t be bad if they got rid of the words.” “OH MY GOD, THAT PART WAS IN PRETTY WOMAN!!” “Please, just DIE already!” And of course, there were the muffled snorts and giggles and rib nudges.) I still hate airplanes and wonder why I can’t just settle down about them. I am REALLY scared on airplanes. Also…I of course request window seats because I have to stare out the window the whole time or I freak out…so the first plane we get on I am in the seat that should be a window…but there is just WALL. And I suffered through it. I sat forward and peered out the window in front of me. (the woman sitting in the row in front of us had the whole row to herself and was sitting in the middle seat and had her VIOLIN sitting in the window seat, next to the WINDOW.)So we took note of the seat, row 6 on a 737-something. Then on the way HOME, the same thing happened. I was in the what should be a window seat and there was just WALL. WALL. And we were in row 10. It was very strange. Fortunately that flight wasn’t nearly full and we were able to scoot across the aisle, I got my window, Eric had his aisle and Gari had the middle seat. Flights that aren’t totally full are much easier for me…I don’t know why. Maybe I deal with more than just the fear of dropping out of the sky. Maybe I don’t like being so packed in either.

I am not done writing…but I have to be. I have not exercised in over a week and I feel like a glob.


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