I’m not dead yet!

Still here, still trying to figure out how I’m going to die next.

Still not dead.

Right after my last appointment with Cancercare, I got a letter almost immediately saying to come in. I thought my smear or blood test had bad results. This set me up for a whole Christmas season of worry. I was unduly grumpy. It could have been a better Christmas.

In 2008 I found out I had cervical cancer. I had a hysterectomy, kept my ovaries, no chemo, no radiation. I got off freakin’ lucky. I thought this was finally it, I really was going to die, and all of my fantasy deaths would be for naught.

When I got there, as it turns out, the Dr. used the wrong shorthand. Instead of 4 months for the next appointment, he put 4 weeks.

Why am I not upset? Simple. I don’t have cancer. I can go on to have all the imaginary deaths I desire!

 

My latest death

So my car got towed yesterday. I could offer a lot of reasons why it shouldn’t have been, but ultimately, it’s my fault. The tow and ticket cost $150. We don’t exactly earn income hand over fist, so this was tough on us financially. I think the staff in the towing office were surprised at my politeness. I even said ‘thank you’ as I left the office (someone in the rear of the office said “what?!”, but I don’t know if that was related to incredulity at my civility or something else).

In order to turn around and got the direction I wanted easily, after leaving the tow yard, I had to turn into a side street that ended at a river. It required a three point turn. While backing up, the riverside crumbled under my back tires. The van lurched backwards, and my heart up into my throat. It took me a few seconds to even realize what was happening. Then panic kicked in. First I jammed on the gas pedal, which only seemed to slow my rearward descent on the icy riverbank, rather than actually propel me forward. Suddenly the van got traction and shot forward. But that increased my velocity when I hit ice and went backwards again. The rear axle cracked through the ice, and in I went. I could feel the air in the car chill instantly.

Somehow, I remembered to try to open the windows. If you’re going to sink, the pressure equalizes, and you can’t open the doors. After realizing I was jamming the door lock button, I tried the right buttons. Openopenopendammitopen!  But the van is grumpy at the best of times, and the windows are electronic. The passenger window opened a crack, the driver’s side not at all. The rear windows are vents. I tried the doors… nothing. I glid out into the Red River, then sunk, a bathysphere of icewater death exploration… I thought of my family, my daughters growing up without their mother there for them… if my husband could handle the grief.

Then I realized it was a green light, and I turned right down Higgins.

Why Nuts and Buries?

Well, I’m a little crazy. Clinically depressed. ADD. I doubt that I would be ‘normal’ if I didn’t have those issues, but it helps. That would be the nuts bit.

Buries? Well, I imagine my own death a lot. Not suicide, though I have been suicidal. More on that in a later blog. My current idea is that I’m going to die of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huntington%27s_disease. For about the last 6 months, whenever I’ve been upset, my head trembles. Also, I often hear a sound in my neck, as if silt is going through a pipe. Yes, I hear a sound in my neck (please refer to paragraph one). This leads me, thanks to internet research, to get the idea I have Huntington’s disease.

My MD says it’s due to nerves, the head shaking, but what does she know, she just has a medical degree and years of experience.

So yes, I am my father’s daughter. My adoptive father. I guess I’m my biological father’s daughter too, but I have issues with that. More on that later. It will be the one year anniversary of his death in a few days. More on that, also, later.

Laters!