HEY, I’M NOT DEAD
I did not know how much your life can change in a month. 31 days, give or take. Four weeks. One lunar cycle. Let us both take the time to digest the changes as I list them.
I interviewed for my master’s degree. Let me just start by saying it was through a video conference and as soon as I hung up, I started bawling. Like when you go on a date you had high hopes for, but then you realize he is a boring ass douchebag who saw you as a trope (few know what I’m talking about, so let’s just say it’s a gut feeling.) In a nutshell, unnecessary questions were asked about my condition, questions like “So, do you move?”, and “Can you hold things with your hands?” were asked. I mean, is not the first time a man has asked me that I just didn’t think it was relevant in an interview for a Counseling Psychology Program. Shortly after, I realized (it was very much implied by them) that the ridiculous reason I wasn’t accepted was mainly because I didn’t have the motor skills that a counseling therapist would need (according to them). Basically, what this institution thought was more valuable, than emotional maturity, was the ability to point at shit. In other words, the model from Deal or No Deal should apply to this masters Program… She would get accepted...just for pointing at shit (I’m not saying that models can’t be smart I’m just trying to make a point...clearly she is making better life choices than me).
After having episodes of fever, I got hospitalized for 17 days due to a kidney infection. Technically, I have had one functioning kidney for 9 years. So, that was old news. My left kidney has hydronephrosis. According to kidney.org, “Hydronephrosis is the swelling of a kidney due to a build-up of urine. It happens when urine cannot drain out from the kidney to the bladder from a blockage or obstruction.” And due to a sneaky urinary infection, (the week after my horrifying interview) my kidney got infected. Soooooo, that led to 15 days of “what the hell is happening?” and 2 days of kidney drainage. That was when my fever finally went down.
Here’s the doozy: I was okay with the 17 days in the hospital. It’s the aftermath that always gets me. I went into the hospital a fully peeing woman, (for those who are unaware of disabled jargon, I was able to urinate by myself.) Even though it’s super embarrassing to say, I came out of the hospital unable to pee. The reader might be asking themself at this point, “Gee, golly, Glow! What do you do now? Just hold it?” Well, since I’m so stubborn and refuse to wear a foley (catheter) until I’m forced to by my own body, (it’s a personal choice, I have nothing against foley-wearing people) I get catheterized by a nurse or whoever is willing to help me out at least three times a day. This means that on my schedule for the day, I literally have to set time out for peeing. It’s not just something that I do for a few seconds of my day whenever I damn well please. You can imagine how shocking this was for me. I have yet another thing that I have to plan my life around. For those who are still having a hard time wrapping their mind around the mechanics of catheterizing I will explain it as I would to a first grader:
Your bladder is a Caprisun juice pouch.
Flip the Caprisun pouch upside down.
Unwrap the thin, pointy plastic straw, but don’t touch either end.
Next stab the juice pouch GENTLY on the designated hole.
You may now enjoy watching all the juice come out.
And that my lovelies is how I pee three times a day (speaking of over sharing).
4. On top of that, even though I haven’t been diagnosed officially, I think I am, shall I say... depressed. I think that’s mainly caused by the fact that my future has been once again fucked up by things I cannot control. For those who read my book, The Diva, The Disability, and the Unforeseen Drinking Game, (shameless plug, you can buy it on Amazon!) I use an ant farm as a metaphor for life’s opportunities. It’s riveting, I know. At one point I mentioned that sometimes when you’re following the trail, you come to realize that it’s a dead end. So, as the worker ant that I am, I usually decide to start building a new trail. Unfortunately, this little ant is sick and tired of digging, and just wants to be the ant queen.
Breaking news: This just in, It has just been brought to my attention by an anonymous source that I am looking at the glass half empty. Fair. So, let me make a weak attempt to fill the glass.
1.) I have a lawyer. That’s pretty dope.
2.) I’m not dead. That’s pretty dope.
3.) Okay, I’m joking. There are actually a lot of good things that came out of this. For one, I have three amazing nurses who came into my life. I’m always happy to meet new people regardless of how exhausting the scheduling may get sometimes. Secondly, my bladder is empty and I’m pretty sure you can’t say the same.
4.) It has also been brought to my attention by a different anonymous source that I now have even more material to write about in a personal essay. Did you know people write those for fun?
5.) (Bonus round!) I’m not dead. Seriously, that’s dope.