Sooooo, who wants to hear about my uptown white girl problems? Do I even want to talk about my NOT third world starving in a malaria infested pit of my own feces problems (well pit of my own feces is for me to know... oops.) You know, the same shit different day spiel. My old roommate Michelle would say that the world was fine cuz she was "free, single and 21" and I am near to double that math. So, why do I get to nearly incapacitated when it always comes down to money and health? If it isn't my lack of money and the emergent need of it, then it is the nagging, lurking, looming specter of my body.
My fancy schmancy air-conditioner was on the brink of petering out yesterday and once again, who came to the rescue with her trusty pocketbook? Yup, you guessed it, my super duper Mom. She needs wings and a halo, with a cape and Super Mom logo - maybe a fairy wand. (No tricked out car cuz she couldn't see out the windows to park it and she really likes the Subaru anyway.) Why would my nicey nice air-conditioner be at risk so soon? Bunny hair. Yeah. Even though I clean out BOTH filters as per the instructions, when the awesome fix-it guy showed us the guts it was SMOTHERED with bunny fuzz. It was ridiculous, amazing and embarrassing. "Hey, you wanna come over and fix my bunny hair sucker-upper, erm crap collector, derp I mean air-conditioner?" It is fixed, my apartment is no longer 89* and I now know how to take care of it all by my lonesome.
My fancy schmancy left hip has been hurting for weeks. I have limited range of motion and I finally decided to call my Radiation Oncologist to give them a heads up. I told the nurse, she pulled my chart. Called me back within the hour, I see the doc on Friday for an X-ray and follow up right after. I am impressed by their quickness as well as worried by it. It could be damage from radiation, bone loss from radiation, lymph nodes, cancer in the lymph nodes, nerve damage.... list goes on, who knows. Could be nothing. It is me, the weirdo. I expand the list of possibilities exponentially.
Last night, in the heat of my apartment, with all of the pain my body was throwing at me, the ever present knowledge of surviving off of my parents.... I watched the Olympics, and cheered. I cried, and swore. Hollered, laughed, marveled and witnessed bodies at their peeks. I would forget which side I was cheering for, because I was so happy to watch people do their best, no matter the country, the side, the race, the war, the politics. In my poor-tiny-rich apartment, MY body might have limited range of motion, but neither my love, nor my dreams do.