in my veins

Since I last posted here I’ve had a birthday (40), a minor car accident (grocery cart + tropical storm), allergic reaction (hives) to gawd knows what, had a major water leak in my home office ceiling (air conditioner), visited a new “doctor,” failed a depression screening, and bought two lottery tickets…because…”Hey, you never know.”

My father is still in the hospital (it’s been months) dealing with the complications of terminal lung cancer. I get few updates on his condition. Maybe next phone call I’ll get my updates first before {insert family member name here} hangs up on me.

The news (local + national + world) gets worse, daily. I am taking a break from news updates, since my “doctor” said that these hives are most likely stress related. I’m inclined to agree, though I’m also inclined to find an actual doctor (and not a P.A.) that will spend more than a few seconds talking about my symptoms and order some tests or refer me to an allergist or a fucking dermatologist. You know, science and all that. Instead I’m waiting for a referral to a damn therapist.

I might be feeling a little frustrated. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the murdery nightmares?

Benadryl is the devil. It makes me stupid, but also makes my throat feel less swollen and convinces me I won’t suddenly stop breathing. I’ve been literally afraid to eat anything, since I don’t really know what triggered the hives and think (worst case scenario) my tomato soup is plotting to kill me.

I may be a little too fixated on death. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that either.


  1. Everything seems to collapse after 39. Happy Birthday, for what it’s worth. While the Benedryl is keeping your throat clearer, take a deep breath and stop trying to keep the world from spinning. Instead, listen to it spin, to it move beneath your feet. It’s awesome. And it’s going to happen no matter what; it doesn’t need your permission. Hamlet professed, “Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Make it so, cousin.

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