Not Going According to Plan

[CN – some graphic description of pain]


This right here?  This is the space where there was going to be a completely different post.  A post that was far more nuanced, that I’ve been doing research on, and taking notes.   That I’ve been thinking about an awful lot.   There is supposed to be a play along at home component to it.  It was the mission statement of the new leaf I’m turning over.  It was going to be positive!

You know that saying about the best laid plans of mice and men.  Yeah, I actually had no idea what the figure of speech really meant, or where it came from; I only knew you were supposed to say it when your shit got fucked up or didn’t turn out the way you wanted.  But I’m pleased to report that it originated in a Robert Burns poem (To A Mouse, 1786).  That guy.  Helluva guy.  That’s a post for another time, isn’t it.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.  I have been waylaid this week by something very unexpected.  I have come down with not the worst, but a significantly bad case of shingles.

For those of you who may not know what shingles is, it is basically an extension of chickenpox, after several decades of respite in which the virus apparently was shooting steroids and snorting angel dust inside your body.  It usually strikes people much older than me, like retirement age people.  But then again, I do get all the random diseases.  There was the scarlet fever in 2010.  And the norovirus…I think that was 2012.  (What’s up with the even years?)

I had chickenpox when I was five-years-old.  I stayed home from school and played and itched a little bit.  This is nothing like that.

Shingles is an ailment of your nerves.  It usually flares up along a specific nerve or branch of nerves.   It results in a rash of burning, itchy blisters, as well as pain along the nerve. It’s usually also only on one side of your body.  A lot of people get it along their ribs on their back, starting at the middle and trailing out to either the left or right flank.   In my case, it’s running down my sciatic on my left leg.

So, as we speak, there are patches of blisters down the back of my left leg from just below my buttocks down to just above my knee, that itch so badly and in the most painful way an itch has ever itched on my body.  I am very much considering defecting from my skin.

The nerve pain feels as though someone or something has some how gotten a tiny, dull, pink, disposable razor inside my leg, and is dragging it down my nerve, nicking and razor-burning it as they go.


Finally, every once in a while, there’s what feels like a flaming hot fencing sword stabbed into the back of my leg or lower butt region.

And there is nothing that will make it stop.  I have taken Advil and Aleve.   I have smeared every kind of first aid-itch-burn cream-lotion-salve on it, and it feels better for maybe five minutes, but then it’s right back to where it is.

So, no, there will not be a nuanced, well thought out, researched post tonight.  I cannot be coherent.  I just want to amputate my leg, basically.   Fuck it!

Just sayin’.


I had a pretty lame weekend. I have had some weird stomach issues. It’s like I feel as if I’m on the verge of getting sick, I can feel my heart beating in my gut and it feels like my stomach has risen into my chest. Then nothing happens. It got in the way of some major plans.

On Friday night, I got a glimpse of some gruesome Oakland wildlife. The grossest, nastiest, biggest possum I’ve ever seen just strolling across Telegraph.

Please tell me that any one had a more exciting weekend.

Just sayin’.

Worst kind of sick person

I am sick. I am trying really hard not to let it get any worse. I’ve had the OJ, the Airborne, the vitamins, Flonase, yogurt, water, Ricola. I’m fighting with everything I’ve got. I hate being sick.

I guess it was a little inevitable for me to get sick. First, I took two round trip airplane rides two weeks in a row. Then when I got back, I partied like a rock star with a bunch of different rock stars. No telling where those guys have been, and we were sharing beers. On top of that, I have not been sleeping well. Too much on my mind.

I confess to being the worst kind of sick person. First off, I’m always in denial about it. I’ll have completely lost my voice and have a fever, and I’ll still be saying, “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” When I finally admit to being sick, I’m so far gone, but still won’t go to the doctor. I absolutely hate going to the doctor only to hear, “you’ve got a virus. Drink more fluids and get more rest.” That’s so aggravating. I could have told them that.

The main reason I’m the most miserable sicky, though, is my attitude. When I’m sick, I don’t want anybody anywhere near me. I want to lay in bed for twenty four hours smelling like crap, looking like crap, and not have to talk to anyone. It’s impossible for anyone to do anything right when I’m under the weather. It’s best to just steer clear. Of course, you know this impossible to do when you live with someone, be they a roommate, family member, partner, spouse, whatever. They’re in my space, and I feel awful, and I want them to die.

So if you think it would be nice to make me some soup or something, think again. We’ll both be better off if you just ignore me while I try to ignore you.

I’m not really that sick, though. Seriously. I swear. It’s just a little runny nose. It’ll be fine.

Just sayin’.