What Is a Good Day?
November 19th, 2019
Real talk: I haven’t had a good day in ten-and-a-half weeks. Just because something isn’t a complete and utter irredeemably horrific paralyzing catastrophe or I experience a teeny tiny non-let-down that I may attempt to interpret as but an inkling of hope does not mean it is anywhere close to ‘good,’ nor remotely indicative of positivity to follow. Let’s take yesterday, for example — certainly not the worst of days I have faced, which sadly is in and of itself a welcome change. I full fledge wept seven times in both public and private: twice in pain, once in fear, once in sadness, twice in stress, twice in panic. I could not move my mouth or utter a single word coherently by day’s end, due to the surgeon digging into my lip, soreness after intense bodywork and too much speaking (mumbling) required at a lengthy doctor’s appointment. I learned that I all but assuredly need more facial surgeries, meaning prolonged waiting to… once again rip open my fragile, traumatized self. My Uber driver (no, I am nowhere near able to operate a vehicle) made two illegal u-turns and cursed loudly as he slammed on the breaks, causing my already motion-sick body to tremble, go cold and lose mobility. I somehow managed to stave off a middle of the night panic attack, I think because of resonant affirmations a friend shared with me this evening, as I continue to try various techniques amid a desperate search for anything that can help consistently. I collapsed exhausted at the end of a grueling day of back-to-back medical appointments and treatments that are taxing and costly with unpredictable results, falling further behind on the myriad of things I actually have to do. I found out that the increasing, persistent pain in one of my impacted root-canalled teeth is due to new infection, for which my dentist put me on yet another round of antibiotics… and back my mangled mouth and I go to his office today for more oral diagnostics and procedures. Yes, I am alive. Indeed, the sun is shining. Sure, I understand that importance of perspective, of framing, of relativity and am ever grateful for each breath, blessing of any size, split second of reprieve or iota of progress, but I am also the human being — hurting body, injured brain and agonized soul — floundering to make it through, unable to escape, weighed down by acute multilayered misery and innumerable distressing unknowns. Such cannot be the baseline for a ‘good’ day.