Dear Body:I am starting to suspect that you enjoy going to see doctors and visiting hospitals in the middle of the night. I, however, do not enjoy such activities.
There are many more entertaining and relaxing ways we can spend our time. I would wager there exists a worthwhile hobby that we could both enjoy? Karate? Tennis, perhaps? Yoga?
After twelve years of competitive horseback riding, I gave it up in college so that I could focus on more pressing pursuits (boys, hangovers and, when time permitted, studying). I have often talked of resuming riding again as an adult, it was a true passion. Maybe that would be good. Would you cooperate?
Surely you remember the good old days. We took a lot of wear-and-tear together. When the horse would refuse the jump, we would flip off onto hard wooden fences and get right back on after a quick limb check. The stirrup leathers would rub open wounds into our calves that would burn like venom when we took a shower that night. Even with a protective helmet, we suffered the occasional concussion. We broke every single one of our fingers, the pointer on the right will forever be bent at a fifteen degree angle. We got bitten. We got kicked. We had a horse fall on us when she slipped in the mud.
I know this was a long time ago, but the point of this story is that no matter what came our way, we healed. We got better and moved on! I do not understand what is going on with this arm situation. WHY ARE WE NOT GETTING ANY BETTER? We have been on three steroids, four antibiotics, I don't even know how many doctors' appointments -- something should be working. I am starting to worry. We have spent twelve days now with a three inch X two inch hole in our arm. That is too long.
Maybe this is your wake-up call to me and you are suggesting that we sit down together for a more formal negotiation. What do you want? More vegetables? Done. More consistent exercise? Fine, that can be arranged. Whatever your terms are, I will agree. Your part of the bargain is this: start acting like you are in your mid-thirties, not your mid-eighties. Deal?
We are missing all sorts of fun stuff this weekend. A Tri-Delt reunion tailgate. A wine and cheese social at Ethan's school. True, we have caught up on excellent television programming that we previously did not know existed: Bridezillas, Toddlers & Tiaras, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. All enriching viewing, no doubt, but starting to get a tad repetitious.
And a word about that allergic reaction to the new antibiotic that almost put us back in the hospital Thursday night. That was bullshit. All I am going to say about that. Cut out the monkey shines. Are we clear on this?
Sincerely,
Your Owner
Your Owner
Dear The Left Arm:
I know The Owner called you a bitch in her prior post. I am sure she did not mean it. I am sure she is just frustrated.
There has been some discussion of hospital admission and surgery if you do not get better this weekend. Maybe MRSA that is not responding to antibiotics? That will not be fun for you (or for me). So, let's do what we need to do to get this under control. Like, ten minutes ago.
I know I am the dominant one and have to do all the writing and the utensil holding and picking up of the stuff, but we are a team. I cannot pull the weight of two arms. You are needed. And truth is, I miss you.
Fondly,
The Right Arm
Dear Nurse/Husband:
Thank you for all your efforts to take care of me when what with the pain/the rest/and the multiple doctor runs, I have morphed into a character from Where The Wild Things Are (and not the cute kid one). One minor point to note: In the future, when I request "healthy food" from the store, mashed potatoes and pizza ("but it has green peppers") are not really what I had in mind. But good try!
Love,
The Management
Dear GP,
Even if this "type of IV injury" has resulted in "tissue necrosis and eventual amputation of hands and fingers" you did not NEED TO TELL ME THAT. You especially did not need to TELL ME THAT TWICE.
Best Regards,
Jenny
Dear Readers:
Do not Google "photos of tissue necrosis from IV infiltration" unless you want to wish you had been born without eyeballs.
.....................................
You Googled it, didn't you? Please do not call me at 4 am when it appears in your nightmares and you wake up in a cold sweat crying for your Mommy. You were warned.
Warmly,
JS
Dear Ethan:
When I told you last night I was sorry that I have not spent much time with you these last two weeks you said, "I get it. You're trying to tell me that you love me. I know. Don't worry, no damage done," and gave me a hug, taking special care not to bump my wonky arm, my heart about melted.
Love,
Your Momma
6 comments:
Dear Jenny's Body,
Please get better soon. You do NOT want me to have to come over there. (This threat usually works with my boys). I miss my wine pal, my in-law gossiper, my friend who makes me laugh. I know you miss it, too. So the sooner you get better, the sooner WE all get wine. That is reason enough to participate with management's request.
Fondly,
Me
I hope you put enough postage on these letters that they reach their recipients!
Dear Jenny's Left Arm: I don't even know you -- indeed I don't even know Jenny - but you must sit up (or sit down; who cares) and take notice. No one with the brilliant sense of humour that Jenny has should be subjected to your obvious temper tantrums. I know you might have been feeling left out while she copes with the other body parts that take her attention away from you, but you are straying into the scary land of anti-body behaviour (sort of like antisocial behaviour; look it up: it isn't something even you would want to be around). Beside, Laurie needs wine and that should be reason enough. I think you and Laurie's left arm should have a serious heart to heart about the proper behaviour for a left arm -- it is primarily for hoisting a wine glass. Did you miss the meeting on that?
Dear Ethan: I think you are a very wise and kind boy for helping your mother through the naughty games that her left arm is playing. Perhaps you could teach her left arm about love and sympathy since you have a lot of it!
Dear Nurse/Husband: I sense that you are doing your very best as Jenny struggles through the ugly revolt of the left arm. I wanted to put a bug in your ear though -- if she asks for a vegetarian pizza, don't order mushrooms on it. I don't know about the U.S.A., but, by law, a mushroom is not a vegetable here in Canada. Jenny and I are both lawyers, so if it's the same there, she might notice and it would be worse than mashed potatoes with pizza (who eats mashes potatoes with pizza??). If there are no mushrooms, she might not even notice that there is actually fruit on the pizza, in that tomatoes are actually a fruit.
Methinks she has enough to worry about with her arm. But I would forbid her the TV -- you don't want her watching cooking shows and judging your prowess. Personally, I'd cancel the cable just in case.
My empathy to you, dear.
laughing, crying, and hoping you're better!
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