stupor

(Dans un café, also called l’Absinthe / Edgar Degas / Musée d’Orsay)

You see this lady?
The one who looks to be in perhaps some sort of stupor or inebriated state?
The one looking a bit, well, rather forlorn and out of it…?
I wish I was her…
Yes, I wish I was out of it….
and I will explain….

But I actually wish I was in her state of mind…
as in mindless…
as in numb with the effects of Absinthe…
and yes, I will explain….

You’ve heard of it before, “la fée verte” or more commonly known to English speakers,
as “the green fairy.”
Absinthe was a concoction high in its alcoholic percentage…a fermented spirit including anise, botanicals and the mysterious herb wormwood..originally produced and bottled in Switzerland.
But its oddly addicting popularity spread throughout much of Europe and even to the US.

It was however, I suppose, the drug of the day, as it was highly addictive and considered to be a hallucinogen and psychedelic–in part due to the chemical thujone, which is found occurring naturally in wormwood…

Thus it was banned in the US as early as 1915.

It was a drink very popular with both artists and literary figures particualry in Paris in the late 19th and early 20th Century.

After the day I’ve had, sipping something greenish while falling into a state of oblivion sounds
actually rather soothing…

So you remember the herniated disc right?
Well it seems the disc has spawned a kidney stone.
Well not really, but it now seems that there are two issues.

I’ve spent the past month eating Motrin and Aleeve.
Not that that has helped with anything but blood flow.

I’ve consumed a good bit of wine in the evenings…
as it has helped to simply deaden my feelings…
yet the pain has remained.
This mind you as I’ve spent my days driving back and forth to Atlanta.

So today, I spent a good part of day laying on the floor,
as that was the only place I found relief.

But this disc business seems to have morphed into something other than.

So I decided it was either diverticulitis or cancer.
Diverticulitis because of as to where the severe now pain is located….
Cancer because that’s where your mind goes after the time I’ve had with dad…

Plus my husband has suffered with diverticulitis, having had surgery,
he diagnosed me right off.

I call the doctor…again
Who sends me, on a Friday afternoon to the ER…
wanting me there before 5 as that is when the ER will swell with “visitors”…
that is once the doctors all close their offices for the day and the long weekend…
It’s the fastest place to get a CT scan on a Friday afternoon,
just before a holiday weekend.

Something is wrong with this picture but I was in no shape to protest.

I call my husband at work, explaining I’ve spent the day on the floor and now
I’m going to drive myself to the ER…not to worry.

I’ll cut to the chase and spare you the details—
such as how I realized I’d forgotten my cell phone when I’d gotten to the hospital
and had to turn around, racing back home to get it…
twisting and swiveling while driving just trying to find a comfortable position
while keeping one hand on the wheel and a foot on the gas.

Can’t take one’s self to the ER without communication you know….

I will also spare you the typical ER horror stories like
how they lost me by putting me in exam room 10
while recording that I was in exam room 22—as I sat for almost an hour
before my husband came looking for me as the nurses suddenly realized they couldn’t find me….

I was standing the entire time in the exam room as standing, or laying on the floor,
is the only bearable position…I thought it best not to lay on the exam room floor.
This while I kept taking off and putting on the gown they’d
give me as I couldn’t remember if she told me to open it to the front, or open it to the back….

I peed in a cup.
They drew blood.
And they wheeled me for a CT scan.

Apparently there is no raging infection.
No assumed diverticulitis.
No appendicitis.
All organs look okay.
But there is a kidney stone.
And most likely a ruptured lower lumbar disc.

I feel as if someone has a drill to my lower back and it is drilling straight through to
my front left groin. Plus my left leg from the groin down mid front thigh is numb.

I wish my back and groin were numb.
I wish I was numb.
Hence why our little absinthe drinker in the Degas painting seems, so…appealing.

So they send me home with a prescription of Tramadol—they no longer give pain meds that will
do what they are suppose to do because of all the pain med abuse—Tramadol does not help me with pain, just makes me feel nauseated…
Plus they sent me home with a strainer—like something you’d find in the kitchen but this is not a kitchen tool—use this they say, to catch the stone.
I’ve never had a kidney stone.
“How long will that take” I ask—
“less than a week,”
they think….
Great.

My son has kidney stones—
My son has a learning disability
My son has ADD
My son has a little head—or so I think it’s little as compared to his stature.
all things I now must sadly claim as having come from me…
His terrible luck however, I will leave to his father….
I don’t consider my luck to be bad….cause I don’t believe in luck….
Not that this latest ordeal seems very lucky….

So now I’m writhing in pain as I feel like I want to throw up—and I wonder
Where might the absinthe be when you need it?