Wednesday, April 27, 2005

April is the cruelest month

Today has been a day of disappointments. Not true. More like the whole month. Let me start with the grimness of the morning, however, because as bad as everything else has been, today is foremost on my mind.

I woke up in much the same start I went to bed. Frightened, ill, worried for the next doctor’s appointment. Starting to feel like a paranoid, or at least a dyspeptic, I woke A.S. and summoned him to my apartment, where I wallow in my uncomfortable bed, lonely because it’s too many stairs to go down for me, and too many for most of my friends to come up. I’ve always kept all of my tension in my stomach, and it has been roiling for well over a week now. He calmed me a bit, although this mood I’ve been in lately doesn’t leave much room for cheering.

The shape of my foot seemed pretty sad, considering most of the skin around the wound had turned black. I spent several hours yesterday removing the last of the bandages, which took a surprising amount of nerve and gag control I never knew I had. The size of the cut isn’t all that large actually, and the skin on my toes and the top of my arch has reattached itself at least, although my toes are still quite large and bruised and sore. But that distorted dead flesh across the width of my foot was disturbing and hopeless and all night long I was conscious of it down there at the end of the bed, making my belly churn and my heart pound.

I was glad I’d gone ahead and done it though, since I don’t think I could have stood the doctor tearing off the gauze again. I figure I can’t control much right now, but I can damn well control my own pain. So he cut off the dead skin, which I couldn’t watch. Then he cleaned the whole area, and that made me want to faint. There was granulated skin under it all, which was actually miraculous, and means I’ll likely avoid the skin graft scenario I’d been dreading so much. And perhaps I’ll be off crutches sometime next month. It’ll be nice to go outside again.

I just feel so trapped. I dread going to work, because everyone asks about it. I dread coming home, because I’m alone here. Really alone too, since there is no cold black nose jammed in the door snuffling when I come home.

Woo is gone.

I’d give anything to have her resting here on the bed with me. I miss the round weight of her when I’d pick her up, and how she’d sneeze when I’d hold her upside down. I miss her fur all over everything and her dribbling water on the kitchen floor. I miss hearing her crunch her food—the number of times she’d chew and how she’d nose the kibble around in her dish—and the way she curled her nose under to go to sleep. One moment she was here, and the next I was holding her limp little body and telling her I was sorry and that I loved her. I have no one to blame but myself, because after all she fought and survived, the one thing she couldn’t live through was me. So my best friend is gone, and I did it, and I’m not sure it’s forgivable, no matter what anyone says.

I miss her, and I want her back so much I’d give anything. I never knew anything could hurt like this.

And there’s no escape from it. Just work and home. Running would help, but obviously that’s out of the question for now. I’d like to go somewhere, but I can’t drive. And as kind as my friends are, I’m can’t ask for more. They take me to the grocery and carry my things and drop me at work and pick me up. But I can’t ask them to cry with me. And I can’t stop. I wish I could.

I’m starting to hate this room. And hate my work. And hate my writing. Most of all I hate feeling so dark. I should be grateful I didn’t cut my toes off, and that I don’t have to lop off any skin on my ass to put on my foot—which I’m well aware none of my friends would let me live down. I should be grateful Woo stayed with me as long as she did. I want to stop feeling sorry for myself and starting every sentence with “I” and being so damned narcissistic, but I don’t know how.

Maybe starting with doing something nice for someone else would help. I’ve just cried myself sick, gotten a nosebleed, and given myself a stern lecture for being so goddamn self-pitying. This will all pass and soon.

3 comments:

Bear said...

Jemima,

Elysia and I were both happy to see that you are back, but very saddened and upset to hear such sad news, on both counts.

Please know that we are both sending warmest wishes in your direction, and hoping that this sadness and pain passes as quickly as it possibly can.

We feel for you and wish you well...

In peace and brother(sister)hood,

Bear and Elysia

Marcheline said...

Jem,

Please come on over to my blog. I think my last post may cheer you up, however momentarily.

I nearly choked to death writing it, so the least you can do is honor my courageous effort.

M (aka Elysia)

Kelly Love said...

I am so sorry you're having to go through all of this sadness. It's OK to feel bad and dark and depressed. You lost your sweet Woo and there isn't anything anyone can say or do that will make you feel better about that. So please don't feel bad about feeling bad. No one is going to tell you to suck it up or get over it. That's something you will likely never get over, though the pain will lessen over time. It's OK to hate everything right now - that's how we heal. I think you're so brave and that you did the kindest thing in the world for Woo...something no one else could have done for her. And I'm sure she knows that and knows how much you love her.