The man I refer to as my VSF is so dope. He listens to me without brushing me off. Doesn’t make fun of me if I repeat myself (which I do, a lot).And he checks up on me almost daily. It is an awesome feeling. He listened with concern while I talked about being scared regarding my annual cerebral angiogram coming up on May 13th, It is a surgery , so no matter how many people tell me it is no big deal or that I had it done before(I do not remember cuz I was UNCONSCIOUS!!!. I don’t want my fuckin brain poked at. However, I do wanna poke some other people’s brains, and maybe they will stop being so insensitive.
My short term memory is not getting better.
As a matter of fact, on some days it seems to be getting worse. I have been trying to keep my mind sharp by writing, and I try to write one to two pages a day of my novel. Why today did I forget one of the main character’s name? Why did I leave my microwave popcorn in the microwave last night? I also forgot the password to my (this) blog so I have to copy and paste what I write to an email and then copy and paste that to an app on my iPhone.
Speaking of apps, thank God for the “to do list app” because I have a myriad of doctors’ appointments next week.
I am not stupid.
As a matter of fact, I am still highly intelligent. I may walk slowly because my left side can be weak at times. Talk slowly because I am afraid I’ll ramble or sound confused. I may skip or add words when I type things out now where I didn’t before, but for the most part I live by the mantra: I had brain surgery; what (the fuck) is your excuse??!!??
Being isolated sucks balls. Mind you, I don’t live alone, but you would never know it. I feel like I am only spoken to if and when somebody needs something from me. I have actually caught on to when I am going to be asked for a favor. Don’t patronize me. Why? Look at reason # 2
I thank God for my Mom, my VSF, my brother k/d and a few select friends. (they know who they are). Without them, I would be lost and forgotten about.
If you have ever seen the movie Soul Food, there is a character named Uncle Pete who lives in an upstairs back bedroom, is cooked and brought his food by his sister, and very few family members check on him (from what I recall.) I feel like Uncle Pete minus the meals. I feel like a burden or inconvenience most of the time. I am only forty three years old. I should be living not just existing. I think if I got out more or talked to people more often, I wouldn’t feel so awkward in social settings.
Headaches. Again they range from mildly annoying to excruciating as shit. Today, it must be getting ready to rain because the back of my head is throbbing.(on a scale of 1-10 it is a 7)
Fatigue. My nap time is 2pm. If I miss my nap, I am fuckin miserable. Although, the medicine I’m on helps with my mood swings, if I am tired don’t ask me for shit.
Depression. I have been diagnosed with major depression. I am cool with that diagnosis. Why? Because I almost died, my quality of life has changed, financially pfffft, I’m in pain, and I am isolated. Major depression sounds about right. Besides my medication, I meditate and have manifested a beautiful house on the beach somewhere, maybe Puerto Rico, where me and my VSF will live. It will be paradise!!!
Then there are the grandbabies. They make me soooo happy too. They can wear me out, but yeah, I kiss em up.
So for now, that’s it. What scares me is that I have plateaued, and this is as good as it gets.
I’ll let y’all know what happens on the 13th.