Gloom, Despair, Agony On Me! Part 1

Deep dark depression, excessive misery. If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.—Buck Owens

Photo by Spencer Tamichi on Unsplash

This next chapter has taken six months for me to share. Primarily because CB (aka Cancer Bitch) escorted me to a very dark dungeon determined that I should stay there. I think she finally figured out that I was an anomaly and had not suffered enough. So, she decided it was time to give me a good dose of physical pain. 

Having my lung removed was excruciatingly painful, but it did subside with the help of medication. If you’ve read previous entries, you know I affectionately called it George. He got me through the worst of it. A few weeks after surgery I  became less dependent and sent him away. He was disappointed, but promised to be available if I ever needed him.

The brain tumors and their treatment did not cause any painful side effects. I had confusion, hearing loss, raging moods and overwhelming fatigue, but no pain. Therefore, CB thought I was missing out on the full impact of her power. 

My last Gamma Knife treatment on the new brain tumor was at the end of August. The MRI follow up was hopeful. The brain swelling that put me in the hospital was gone and the tumor was shrinking. Shortly after that, I had a chest CT scan. The results were good. No evidence of disease in my remaining lung! I had beat CB back into submission! 

She laughed, “Au contraire, mon amie!”

I began to slowly regain my strength. Perhaps I could contemplate doing activities I was desperately missing? I began looking at all the local audition calls and hoping there would be a show with appropriate roles for my age. The older I get the harder it is to find good roles for old broads. There were a few—very few.  However, CB had not only done a number on my body and had depleted my confidence. She invited the What If Kids to plague me. As an actress and writer, I’ve known these guys for a very long time. They devour self-esteem and confidence like an all you can eat buffet.

What if I’m not good enough? What if my audition sucks? What if I don’t get cast? What if I do get cast? What if the director regrets casting me? What if I’m not physically capable and have to drop out? What if I can no longer memorize the lines? What if I can’t do the choreography? The What If Kids covered every uncertainty possible.

I came to the conclusion it was best that I didn’t try. My biggest fear was if I was lucky enough to be cast, I could be a liability to the theatre, cast and crew. Having me suddenly collapse during a rehearsal or performance would be traumatic for me and everyone else. It was difficult to admit, but it was time that I step back and consider that side of my life was over. That made me very sad.

CB roared gleefully. I hate her. 

In early October 2022, my left hip began aching. It was reminiscent of the pain I had after a dance injury years ago. I hadn’t had any recent falls or stumbles that would be the cause. I chalked it up to another sign of old age and popped a couple of Tylenol when it was too uncomfortable. It helped. Then it stopped helping. The pain moved from hip to down my left leg and across the back. 

Doctor Google, who I do not recommend as a trusted source, indicated my symptoms could be due to sciatica. I called the chiropractor and made an appointment. He did an adjustment and I felt immediately better. Two days later the pain had returned. I went back every other day for two weeks. It would be better for a day and then return even worse. I  was sleeping no more than a couple of hours at a time. No position was comfortable. The only small relief came from slowly walking. I would do this for hours throughout the night—multiple marathons around the kitchen island constantly checking the time when I could take more Tylenol.

I finally called my primary doctor and asked for an appointment. She thought it sounded like sciatica and prescribed a pain reliever. No, not George. Perhaps more like George’s baby sister, Georgina. She didn’t begin to touch the pain.

That night the pain was so horrible I couldn’t take it anymore. The urge to pee was overwhelming, but I couldn’t. Uhhhh, this is new and can’t be good. I called the on-call nurse and explained what was going on. She told me I needed to go to the emergency room NOW. It was 3 AM. Couldn’t I wait a couple of hours? She said no. I needed immediate care. 

I woke my husband and told him it was time for another adventure in caring for Karen. He asked what was wrong? I am in horrible pain and I can’t pee! He grumbled a bit, but got up and dressed.  

I continue to cash in on that IOU he gave after I saved his life administering CPR when he had his cardiac arrest. Everyone should learn CPR. It really does save lives. Even bad CPR is better than none.

We made it to the ER around 4 AM. I was there for 15 hours before being admitted into the hospital. That is a stand-alone chapter in of itself. 

Coming soon: Gloom, Despair, Agony On Me! Part 2