Complexities

I have a complex situation.  I guess I already knew that, but that perspective from one of the hospitalists I was recently visiting in St. Mary’s Hospital struck a new chord.  Add the fact that I had fallen so far into suffering that I lost track of where I was.  I also had to laugh to myself because his perspective was based solely on the physical ramifications of my scenario.  With a glance at the mental, emotional and spiritual, complex becomes a drastic understatement.  Weave in the philosophic polarity between holistic and allopathic treatment, and the fact that my health decisions are completely self-guided choices, and just the search for a synonym that adequately describes this “complex” situation becomes a daunting task.  It all calls for a long walk in the woods.  And, unfortunately, my energy, mobility, the horrific air quality and 20-degree weather really nix that as being a reasonable and prudent remedy.  So, I turn to writing.  Here, I attempt to purge the stagnation of thoughts and feelings that have not been flowing.  I attempt to make some sense of the insane.  I search for clarity and guidance on icy slopes under the dim light of hard winter.  I look for distractions from the daydream of an endless float down the dammed Colorado River.  I seek visions of a future worth working so hard to live for, and I simply muse the words “working so hard.”  Do I need to find a reason to dig myself out of another deep hole?

I certainly feel much more philosophical than practical in my mind this morning.  After a good 12 hours of much needed sleep following two miserable nights at the hospital I feel some relative level of calm.  I might have the post haze of hydrocodone and cannabis but am currently drug and pain free.  Confined freedom, getting to leave my cell to walk the fenced yard.  I would breath in the sun if it offered itself.  Instead I appreciate the comfort of soft fleece and down.  And I am amazed.  I have spent my life developing, whether I like it or not, a relationship with irritable bowels.  Call it Ulcerative Colitis, call it Crohn’s, call it six major surgeries, three missing organs and a poop bag to boot.  Call it what I like, I’ve never known it like I know it now.  And before now, as I have related to some friends, its lifetime tribulations have made a year with Leukemia seem like a walk in the park.  Leukemia, especially acute, is a freak the fuck out, not a walk in the park.  So what is it all together?  As far as I know, I’m the only one that knows.  I guess I’ll sit on that for a while…