After being recently admonished for having professed a preference for socially acceptable euphemisms that also manage to acknowledge one’s innate intelligence when it comes to dealing with bodily functions… I’ve decided to not go into the gory details of how my day has been today but rather shall just say that while the abdominal pain has (mostly) gone… the memory (and the corollary mess) remains. Which whilst not being exactly fun hardly warrants mentioning compared to Friday night’s awful experience.
In spite of the back pain, in spite of the infertility, in spite of my sluggish metabolism, in spite of the carpal tunnel and even in spite of my unfortunate relations – though those I can hardly be blamed for. (Sorry got a bit JA there for a second). In spite of all these… most of the time I don’t mind being me. I guess I mean that even though I have had these horrid ongoing health problems for nigh on two decades now, I don’t dislike who I am for the majority of the time.
However…. this particular episode has had me really wishing that I could be someone else. Even just for a little while would be nice. It’d be kind of novel to throw someone else in this ridiculous pretense of a body of mine and see how they’d fare. Would I find out that I’m just a lousy complaining bitch and it’s not that bad after all? Or… (as I suspect)… would that person come away from the experience saying that they have no idea how I put up with it day after day?
Like I’ve got a choice. Who knows?