Shaken and rocking…
With such a good long stretch of writing under my belt – 50 consecutive days I think – I was beginning to wonder how I might continue without missing a day. Of course all one needs do is ask.
After completing my journal entry one week ago today I took a little supper and retired to bed, little waves of spasticity rippling through the body.
Not many hours later, as Caitlin – weary from effort across many fronts in her life – had put me down and was nearly ready to slumber herself, the fits began.
Indeed, the lights were out and the day ended, or so we thought. I called out for a bowl just as the first waves of nausea and vomiting began. Our hearts sank. In poetic refrain from my experience of late November where I had extended a long and concentrated effort, had rested, and had plotted my next moves forward before falling incomprehensibly ill, here I was again. The following morning was to be an enormous push of critical productivity followed by a week of meetings with creative partners and refinement of process. No longer.
Most fortunately I think for Caitlin, Elisa was able to scramble herself to our aid within hours. By 11 PM she had spelled Caitlin and was organizing herself on the couch at the foot of my bed where she would spend the next nine hours shuffling between working on her laptop, resting, and catching the relentless projectile vomit emanating from somewhere deep within me.
The night and the following day for me were spent coming in and out of wakefulness in a conscious exhaustion. While there was little left in me to release, the body kept pushing. While nausea is uncomfortable for any of us, it is particularly interesting in a paralyzed body such as this. Many of the abdominal muscles that help us to expel our stomach contents, are paralyzed in me. This means that by the time I’m actually sick enough to push something up and out, the intensity of the discomfort and commensurate effort have reached delirious height.
Meditation, in moments, helped but only slightly. After moments of relief, I can feel the mind begin to collapse back in upon itself, driving tension straight through the body to manifest as suffering.
As night began to fall again on Monday, I wondered where all of this would lead. Cassandra now on the scene suggested, late into the evening that the odor and color of the expulsions indicated something wicked. This matched my own taste and perception as well and just as the clock crossed the midnight hour, so too did we cross the threshold of the emergency department of the UCSD hospital.
The first day since I had began this journey of a daily journal, had now passed without an entry. Five more would follow.
I am home now, and while there is much story to tell, the absence of time to tell the story is also part of the story itself.
I arrived home from the hospital yesterday morning just before 10:30 AM. I went straight to work, terribly behind on too many critical fronts. Email needed to be sorted, missed appointments accounted for, correspondence tended, projects reset and to do lists reordered. Bills needed to be paid (the one task I did manage to accomplish in the midst of all the madness of the previous week was getting payroll out the door on time for the kind souls in my service, and this meant the world to me.) Taxes, now that would be another story…
Just as I managed to reset everything to near zero, I decided to close out one final task that had been lingering and progressing slowly over the past few weeks. During my days of crypto investment management I had installed a hardware security key on my computer as, at the time, the otherwise mundane object had become quite a physical bank. Those days gone, the key was no longer needed and I was in the process of removing it via a technical support correspondence with the company that had been progressing day by day, step-by-step. One thing remained to be done.
I installed the proper version of the app, clicked the appropriate tab, deactivated the key. Now for the last step, I rebooted the computer. Arriving at the login screen, I typed my password. Nothing. I typed my password again. Nothing. I typed the code that went with the key, nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
All of that nicely organized work, staged and ready to roll, the journal entry proclaiming my triumphant return, everything was now on the other side of nothing.
As you can see I’m back in, having taken most of the day to get here, head now spinning with Monday morning looming and weeks of work to do in days.
This morning a stranger got me out of bed and dressed. Naudia is a stranger no more.
To be continued…
PS my friend Eliana keeps asking me how I’m feeling. A good reference I think. Right now, I feel shaken and my body feels like it is rocking (uncertain, not like music.)
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…