Unhappy camper
Sep. 1st, 2010 01:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greatbearI've not been posting much around these parts for fear that it would be filled with the typical downer screed of recent entries. Suffice it to say, I've been trying my best to make good out of a bad situation, and, frankly, it's finally started to wear me down. This past weekend was our last camping trip of the summer. Jeff was stuck working, so I managed to load up the stuff into the truck, fetched the trailer then headed on up to Hillside for the final time of the year. THis time it was a bit different, since we had guests already staying on the site earlier in the week and had been awaiting our arrival. I had a bunch of wonderful help in getting set up, once that was done, however, I was in so much pain I was miserable, and that fact was not lost among my fellow campers. Since I was not going to take any of my Rush Limbaugh feelgood pills before piloting nearly 50 feet and six tons of truck and trailer a couple hundred miles with a crazy dog in my lap for fear of falling asleep at the wheel (the damn stuff knocks me out), by the time I had arrived, set up and tried to unwind, I was a twitchy, pain-addled mess. Once I popped the pills and stretched out, I eventually felt a bit more comfortable and enjoyed my company. We all turned in early that night, and I was blessed with Hillside's eerie silence before the weekend people began to show up. The 'contin makes me have strange, often extremely entertaining dreams of a vivid nature that make Yellow Submarine seem like a budget planning meeting by comparison. The very cool (mid-40s!) nights made sleeping more like hibernating, only adding to the psychedelia.
Jeff came down the next day after having to work on his day off (sound familiar?), and he joined us in the evening before dinner. He was having his own pain issues as well, but we made the best of it. I was stuck hanging around the campsite again, though I did make one trek up the hill to the afternoon party on Saturday, but did not stay long. I'm sure I missed out on seeing some folk, I hope to see them again in the future when I'm not such an invalid. The weekend overall was positive for me, but I know I was being quite antisocial despite my efforts to the contrary. I just don't do well around friends or crowds when I am ailing. And since this condition has kept on progressing for the worst, I'm pretty much Groucho Grouchy McGroucherson (nee Crankypants).
I sense that Jeff is finally starting to tire of my condition as well, and even my ability to make use of my time is starting to fade. Slowing down like this puts me into a deeper funk, and I mostly wander off now just to minimize my effect on others. I'm still waiting for a time for my unavoidable surgery, which has become more involved than originally planned. The laminectomy that was to be performed on a single vertebra has been increased in scope to the L4, L5 and T1 segments, for a total of three. While I am being reassured that I will maintain most if not all of my mobility/abilities, something tells me that having not just one, but three consecutive sections of bone removed leaving the muscles unattached to anything but themselves leads me to believe that a lot of what I was able to do as a young punk is now firmly in the past. Time will tell, of course, and anything would be better than what I am currently experiencing. My bruised shins from stumbling and falling are outward evidence that life is not all peaches and Mayhem anymore. Jeff had tickets for the Penn State opener next weekend, He sent them away, hopefully to be used. I know he was looking forward to this game, but dragging me along to is was probably going to be an exercise in (more) futility for him. I feel awful for that, and I really wish I could crawl under a rock.
I will manage all of this in some way. Having my finances now firmly below the poverty level will add another layer of stress. At least it's not zero. Yet. Now all I have to do is try and get the medical end of it all in gear. Things move at a glacial pace for some reason. All I wish for is for this to be over and a return to normalcy in my life.
Jeff came down the next day after having to work on his day off (sound familiar?), and he joined us in the evening before dinner. He was having his own pain issues as well, but we made the best of it. I was stuck hanging around the campsite again, though I did make one trek up the hill to the afternoon party on Saturday, but did not stay long. I'm sure I missed out on seeing some folk, I hope to see them again in the future when I'm not such an invalid. The weekend overall was positive for me, but I know I was being quite antisocial despite my efforts to the contrary. I just don't do well around friends or crowds when I am ailing. And since this condition has kept on progressing for the worst, I'm pretty much Groucho Grouchy McGroucherson (nee Crankypants).
I sense that Jeff is finally starting to tire of my condition as well, and even my ability to make use of my time is starting to fade. Slowing down like this puts me into a deeper funk, and I mostly wander off now just to minimize my effect on others. I'm still waiting for a time for my unavoidable surgery, which has become more involved than originally planned. The laminectomy that was to be performed on a single vertebra has been increased in scope to the L4, L5 and T1 segments, for a total of three. While I am being reassured that I will maintain most if not all of my mobility/abilities, something tells me that having not just one, but three consecutive sections of bone removed leaving the muscles unattached to anything but themselves leads me to believe that a lot of what I was able to do as a young punk is now firmly in the past. Time will tell, of course, and anything would be better than what I am currently experiencing. My bruised shins from stumbling and falling are outward evidence that life is not all peaches and Mayhem anymore. Jeff had tickets for the Penn State opener next weekend, He sent them away, hopefully to be used. I know he was looking forward to this game, but dragging me along to is was probably going to be an exercise in (more) futility for him. I feel awful for that, and I really wish I could crawl under a rock.
I will manage all of this in some way. Having my finances now firmly below the poverty level will add another layer of stress. At least it's not zero. Yet. Now all I have to do is try and get the medical end of it all in gear. Things move at a glacial pace for some reason. All I wish for is for this to be over and a return to normalcy in my life.
