Tuesday 11 September 2012

The Waiting Game

Why must antibiotics smell like arse with a side of toe jam? That's what I want to know. Ugh. If efficacy is measured by malodour, these must be the most incredible bacteria killing capsules of all time. Yep. That's Right. I have yet another stupid infection in my ankle incision and it may be messing with my attitude (and cogitations) a little. Well that and the fact I am still playing the waiting game with my neurologist. Logically I know she is waiting on the final biopsy results to come back, before we can have our big sit down to discuss what was, or wasn't found. But damnit, logic is overrated, and right now I want to be pouty and stampy.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. This is not good for the soul.

I have tried soothing myself with copious amounts of chocolaty delights. In fact, as I type I am waiting on my bestie to bring round a tub of newly discovered chocolate gelati from a local organic takeaway. But even that's not doing it. I may be keeping Lindt in business. I may have a perpetual air of eu de chocolat, but it doesn't change my status.

I'm still waiting.

It is Spring here in Oz and the days are beautiful. Not too hot, not too cold. The air is fresh and the sunshine glorious. The yard is lush with new growth and if I squint just right, I can ignore that it is 90% weeds (I'm sure there's some cosmic metaphor in that). Though they are very healthy and very green weeds. Even the buttercups and onion weed look pretty. I can't even see the rather large Great Dane nards for the long luscious grass. Bonus. Though it does make moving around the yard a bit like a smelly and squishy game of Minesweeper. It is delightful to be in the warm dappled sunshine and listen to the very randy, local bird life. I can meditate outside now, or at least attempt a "So Hum" or two. Though having two dogs sit so close to me that I can feel their breath on my face, or worse still, snuffle in my ear, is not exactly conducive to finding my inner peace.

So I sit and curse as enlightenment eludes me, and still I wait.

I'm trying to ignore it as best as I can. I have even resorted to housework, a good indicator that I am in desperate straits on the coping front. Mind you I now have sparkly clean bedroom and bathroom windows. All the furry black mould that was multiplying and setting up a small feudal society on my windowsill is now gone. I still have yet to work up to the dust bunnies that seem to be reproducing at an alarming rate, but give me another week of waiting and they too will be gone.

And still I wait.

My body is slowly healing at least. I feel more normal sick, rather than the added blargh of the post-hospital/infection recovery phase. Most of the bruising is gone now. Just some sickly yellow/green patches, dead sexy right? The skin where the adhesive dressings were now carries some lovely rectangle scars framing my now lumpy incision lines. Another addition to the visual History of Me that I carry on my body. My thigh and stomach incisions are finally sealed over, which is cause for much celebration. And I no longer limp around the house. All things to be grateful for. But I look at my scars and once more I am reminded....

....I'm still waiting.

I want answers and I want them now. I need to process whatever the outcome and take the next step. Life is going on outside my health (eg, my son goes back in for surgery on the 21st) and I need to tick this one off the list so I concentrate on what is truly important. But I have no control. I can yell and stamp and curse, and tell my antibiotics I hate them (I'm sure they understand, and at least it makes me feel better) but it makes no difference.

I have to wait, and I hate it.

So I'll sit here muttering under my breath like the impatient, angry, crazy woman that I am. I'll sit in my garden and gorge myself on chocolate, and I'll polish my shower till it shines like crystal. And I'll wait like a good patient and slowly lose my mind in the process.

Wait, wait, wait,....why are we waiting, slowly dehydrating, oh why are we wai...ai...ting......

Michelle :)

And just because I need some Patience, and because Guns N' Roses always cheers me up, and because I can't help but do a little Axel Rose dance every time I hear this, well it just had to be shared.


  1. I know how you feel I had a brief time of hope and happiness but now back to watching days pass me by. Too much of my life has gone like this I want to have some purpose and something to show for all the time passed. Simon

    1. I understand that need for purpose. It can be hard to find for ourselves sometimes. Often it's others who recognise how much we contribute long before we realise ourselves. I figure if you can touch even one life, even if you never know that you've done it, that's your purpose. It's not always big things. Sometimes a simple comment that makes someone smile or lets them know they aren't alone can make all the difference and I know you've done that for people, Simon. That connectedness tangible and intangible for me that's the purpose.

  2. I know how hard waiting can be. After 3 long years of waiting, yesterday I was finally diagnosed as having dyautonomia.
    Praying you get some answers soon

    1. Alisha I want to say congratulations on having answers finally and sorry all in the one breath. How about just that I hope this leads to much better treatment and management for you. xx

  3. I know how you feel! My neurologist (the only autonomic specialist I have found after 6 years) went on medical leave 18 months ago. I just found out last week that she is no longer practicing. I'm waiting, waiting, waiting, for my referral to a new Dr. to go through. I guess I'm waiting just so I can start the process all over again!

    1. Oh no Portia, that really sucks. I can't imagine having to start the process all over again. I hope you can get that referral through sooner rather than later. (hugs)


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