ME

ME

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Returning Home from Being There

 

An endless numbness, a dull sullen hanging sense of nausea and, barely the energy to read a single word, listen to a note of music; if only I had the stamina to put a thought together it would probably turn into a single-syllabled question. The querulous word would, I suspect, be more on the lines of “What” rather than “Why”.

I’ve long since given up on the existential / metaphysical why; more an exercise in futility rather than to proffer any result. “What” keeps the world alive, “why” seems more like an evasion.

Well, that’s yesterday dealt with; today I have returned to me. The preceding days, and nights, had been dominated by intensely excruciating pain, ranging from the numbing tourniquet, to the slightly blunted arrow; the bone and muscle crumbling ache in combat with those swiftly-fleeting nerve-tingling darts that seem to take one’s breath away; a kind of Topsy-Turvy Terpsichore:

Dance rules over all – it prevails against reason, common-sense and substantial portions of ritual belief. Trouble is that, we are never in control; I am currently in thrall to a kind of voodoo dance –nature’s response to a crushing debilitating pain scenario.

When all else fails, randomly fling limbs in whatsoever direction they feel like; if it causes further discomfort then that adds a whole new terpsichorean overlay, disclosing hitherto undreamt of fraught sequences of space displacement.

On Monday my pain-killing medication was changed, to a 3 day slow release opiate patch. Having applied the patch, late afternoon, my familiar discomforted restless night was in attendance, so nothing different then but the following morn was quite a different proposition. A total inability to concentrate, a generalized dull ache underlining the spasmodically erupting specific sharp pains; all was eventually blanketed under a heavily nausea spiced  airless cloud of unbeing, crushing a body wracked in turn between hot and cold shivering sweats.

Needless to say, all the remaining patches have been returned to the pharmacy and, my routine has been switched back to Tramadol, this time of a non-modified release type, to enable me to remain in control, modifying the dosage as necessary. Meanwhile, I’ve once again been referred to the hospital for further investigative work.

The 18 hours respite, including some ‘real’ bed rest, between removing the patch and taking a further pain-killer, has served to enhance my appreciation of the home environment. For the first-time this season, I was aware of the seasonally decorated dining table, and the various Christmas ornaments and tinsel sundrily scattered around our abode. This awareness of one’s habitation, the taste of food, the sound of music and always one’s loving companion is a gift to be truly celebrated. The return from a pain-riddled drug addled stupor makes me feel like the fabled Prodigal Son; although at heart I am always aware of the love that surrounds me, it’s good to receive a whole-hearted reminder, for one’s abode to find it’s rightful status as Home.

 

3 comments:

Rayosun said...

Dear Malcomb,
Thank you so much for joining the almost 300 other web sites that link to our site and thereby help to promote the message that "Christians" who want to follow Jesus of Nazareth ought to follow his teaching and example and become lovers and fighters for justice and equality in this world.
LiberalsLikeChrist.Org (and its sister sites) have been viewed some 680,000 times this year (up about 25% from last).
I was sorry to learn from Helen's blog of your ill health, and wish you a better new year. Hopefully, our replacing Blair and Bush with Brown and Obama will help somehow!

SimplyTim said...

Malcom,

I am without comment. I am at a loss for words.

You are the poet who writes poems about what is seldom described.

I am pleased that you can find light between the gasps.

You are the Christ on the cross, dancing between and simply one breath to the next...each a world unto itself.

I bear witness to your journey.

With a tender love,

I wish fewer gasps for the coming breaths

Tim

SimplyTim said...

Mal,

I just came across a note I made to myself a few months ago. It was in the context of life purpose.

The note as is: Re: purpose (do deeds - for now.)

Don't pray for gifts / goal.

Pray or think about questions.

I guess that will fit in with your single word: "what."

Tim