Shooting Arrows Into The Darkness

I have been watching "Lost in Austen" over and over for a week.  But not the whole thing (because that would be crazy!) just the last half which is my favorite half.  Max asks me when I sit down in the evening with my very relaxing glass of purified water "What are you watching?" and I say "Lost in Austen" and he says "Again?!"  This from a kid who has seen every single Scooby movie at least 20 or 30 or possibly a hundred times.  He thinks it's pretty wacky that I would watch the second half of "Lost in Austen" night after night but personally I think we're the same shade of crazy. 

Speaking of crazy, he's been very interested this week in finding out how crazy you have to be to be put in an insane asylum.  I tried explaining to him, as did his father, that there really aren't any insane asylums any more.  There's either prison or the streets.  He was very dismissive of this and wanted to know if you had to be "our kind of crazy?" or a different kind of crazy.  I love that the kid understands that when I call us all crazy it doesn't automatically mean I'm saying we're delusional psychopaths.  I love that he already understands that a word can be like a very broad paintbrush and that you may have to look closely to see variants of color and texture.  I assured him that they don't put people like us in asylums.  We aren't usually a threat to ourselves or others.

I almost choked on that one though because that's actually not true at all.  I hate lying to him but he has such a huge burden of truth to carry already.  Thinking of the people I've known who had "my kind of crazy" who went over the deep end and either never mentally returned or actually killed themselves, is always sobering.  Not psychopaths at all, not delusional exactly, but dangerous to themselves.  Anyway, we're all supposed to sort that out for ourselves now-a-days if we don't have health insurance or if the lousy-ass health insurance we have doesn't cover mental health.  I am out of one of my medications as of today and I can't afford to get more until Monday.  People like me who don't have therapy and medication have been known to get in a deeper morass of mental hell than we are normally in because of not having the medications to keep us hanging on. 

Anyway, no asylums anymore.  At least, not that people like me can afford to go to.

I am filled with a vibrating sense of dread, panic, and a feeling of drowning.  Part of it is that I have something on my body that is alien to me, uncomfortable, and not going away.  This is causing me to stay home from Kung Fu again, feel like a scuzzbag, and helpless because I can't go to a doctor.

This is how things used to be for most people.  Back when there was no health insurance and very few doctors anyway.  Back when people died in childbirth frequently enough for it so be a concern every time a woman had a baby.  Back when you got scarlet fever and you just died.  And everyone in your family died too.  But at least "back then" it was most people who faced no medical help.  You did what you could and you hoped for the best.

So I try to reassure myself that whatever I have is bound to go away soon.  I think what I value most about doctors is their trained ability to diagnose.  Yes, there are plenty of times that doctors have not been able to figure out a rash on my body or why my throat was sore every week for months.  Doctors are people, not magicians.  Science is amazing but it isn't based on miracles and magic.  In spite of all of that, I have often taken great comfort in a doctor being able to assure me that what I have is NOT infectious because if it was there would be other indications present.  I have delighted in being able to go home on occasion knowing that there is, as yet, no sign of impending death.  That I can go about my business and not be concerned about the plague, or cancer, or malaria (which until this week I knew I couldn't have because of my impressive intake of tonic water and lime, but now every mosquito makes me shiver in my shoes...*).

Doctors have come to play an impossible role in society.  People have come to expect them to fix everything, to know everything, and on top of that we expect a higher moral standard from them than most of us expect from ourselves.  They are not allowed to make errors.  Especially if it results in the death of another human being.  People distrust them enormously while also thrusting on them all their hopes and dreams of eternal life.  We want medication with no side effects and if we get horrible side effects we blame the doctors and the drug companies of failing us.

If God can't get rid of all cancer then how the hell can you expect human beings, mere mortals, to do better?  People seem to forget that it is because of science and medicine that we can now often outrun cancer for many years.  Sometimes that means ingesting poisons that no human was meant to ingest and then having to put a lien on all four of your children to help pay for it.  It is through science, and modern medicine, and human intervention that our life expectancy is now so much higher than it used to be. 

So I respect modern medicine.  It has made my head work better.  It fixed Philip's arm when he broke it.  There was a time when all we could have done was hold it still in a splint and hope the bones grew back together well enough for him to continue working.

So my point is, I'm putting lavender oil on my mouth (which I hate doing because floral flavors in my mouth make me sick to my stomach) because I know that it is a powerful antibiotic and antibacterial herb.  I'm doing it not knowing if it will change anything.  I'm shooting arrows into complete darkness.  There are so many possibilities for what is going on and I've seen not one single picture on the internet that looks like what I have.  But I know that if I could get access to a doctor he/she would absolutely be able to tell me if this was herpes or shingles because those are two things they can send a culture out for if they can't tell just by looking. 

You know what's missing?  Blisters.  I am 100% blister free.  I have not had a single blister on my mouth.  Every single picture I've seen of herpes 1 simplex and shingles (also related to herpes, incidentally) involve angry looking blisters.  The duration for herpes is supposed to be two weeks.  I've had this for about a week and a half.  You'd think that by now I would have some blisters.

So no answers.  I shiver to think what hell we'd go through if any of us broke a limb right now.  Or got in a car accident. 

I grew up with a mom who believed 100% in natural remedies for things and while I do believe in the power of herbs to heal, I think it's pointless to smear myself with every natural salve in my cupboard in hopes something will start to work.  I will never be a doctor and without a doctor's help most of the time none of us know what ails us and so we can spend a fortune on natural medicine and waste all that money because we don't actually really know what is going on.**

I'm both old school and new school.  I am both antiquated in my notions and modern.  I believe in chivalry (Yes!  Especially I expect it in men!) but I don't believe in inequality between any peoples.  What a mish mash.

If I could only know if this was a fungal, viral, or bacterial issue I could do something to the point.  I could aim my herbs in the proper direction.  Or not at all if it's viral.  Nothing fixes viruses but time or death. 

So yes, this little tiny incident that will surely pass soon and be forgotten soon afterwords in this hectic running towards the future...has highlighted in neon our intense vulnerability. 

Through all of this I have had only coffee and water to drink for the past three days.  The coffee was mostly decaf.  No tonic and lime.  No natural sodas.  No tea (because we're in a freaky September heat wave), and no snacking at night, and I could swear my body hasn't lost an ounce of weight.  But I don't weigh myself anymore because that has proved to be an alarming activity.  I have consumed at least 3,000 fewer calories this week than normal. 

Yet everything is static.  That frightens me.  But don't let it worry you too much, this is par for the course for people like me.  We worry a lot about things that generally turn out to be nothing and see ambiguous calamity around every blind corner. 

Something good that's come of these ruminations (in concert with having just read "Thornyhold" by Mary Stewart) is that I have an idea, a very firm and good idea for the book I'll write next.  What's making me happy about this idea is that it isn't going to be a depressing dark mental breakdown of a story.  The book I'm writing right now is the one.  The one I have to write.  I'll try my damnedest to get it published but it may never see the light of day because of it's darkness.  I have to do it.  I'm not finished with it, it's been on hold to make new school year adjustments.  This next story is one that could potentially be a series.  I can already feel its voice and flow and flavor and timeliness.  If it is in my power to ever be a successful author I believe this is the story that might do it.

It's time to go feed the child who is in a good mood and has bright eyes today.  It's time to go make food for me and Philip and not look forward to my night of more exciting water. 

Somehow, in spite of my vague sense of defeat and hopeless poverty and vulnerability today, I still feel some kind of balance settling into place in our life.  I can see just far enough outside my mental illness to recognize that our life is still rich with each other, with this house we love, and the generosity of all the people we care about and love.  Even if we lost the house, our living...I know that's not the end of the story.  I know more good will come even when the worst we think can happen has happened.

There is not only always worse that can happen, there is always better that can happen too.






*Not really.

**Obviously this is also true of modern medicine, but I have found that MD's generally are more capable of pinpointing illness specifically than naturopaths...and yes, I know all about the powers of natural medicine.