Today, I was looking through my thousands of CD's that I hoarded in the 90's. I have to say, I really had kick ass taste in music. As a 33 year old, I am proud of my 14 year old self. Grunge girl who wore all types of docs with her kooky ensembles. However, looking back on my youth...I was in pain back then too. I just never seem to dwell on it.
I was thinking about all of this today because Rita has kicked my ass lately and I was dwelling today. I am close to three weeks past my infusion, my hand is killing me, and I had to go to the stupid blood lab today for my 6 week blood suck. I am so covered in bruises. The phlebotomist began to ask me if I felt safe at home. I looked at her not getting the connection until it dawned on me...my bruises are that bad.
I went to that non-helpful dark place and asked the tricky question, "Why me God?" Was it all those dark angst filled days as a youth? Was it because I never really fully believed in you and questioned your motives often? Was it because I always had to buck the system and never follow the sheep? When I start with these questions, I know it will not end well. I had to mentally tell myself (more like yell) to stop and then I just tried to breathe and relax. I was kind of proud of myself for stopping. I have not accomplished that yet. I dwell on the health other have and wonder why I wasn't one of the lucky ones.
I know it does no good. I know.
So, tomorrow I luckily have an infusion. My stitches also get removed. Tomorrow will be another painful day but at least I know.I do not like the days where it comes out of nowhere. I kind of want warning.
On tomorrow's infusion play list?
Okay....fine. I liked HOLE a lot and I'm not apologizing!
Veruca Salt....oh how I adore angry chick rock.
I really could go on. I will stop and play a bit from Run Lola Run.