Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

Let’s play ball!

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Good morning everyone! I hope your week is off to a good start. I had a rough start to my week. I’m feeling much better, after being in my studio the past couple of days and getting out of my head and creating something.

For those of you following, here is a quick update on my medical situation:

I have my pre-op consult this morning and I am a little out of sorts. I feel really agitated and Sam is ever present. I feel her pacing back and forth in a desperate attempt to escape all of this. Inconsolably worked up…Sam is the bravest little girl I know! First thought to be an out-patient procedure, it turns out I will be admitted.

My post-op consult for my endoscopy and my colonoscopy was canceled again yesterday. I have not dealt with doctors offices and doctors appointments too often, and I am puzzled, to have gone in for something so concerning to me, to be still wondering what is wrong. Results are being mailed to me, as the next available appointment, after they canceled my Friday appointment is on June 6th. My surgery is June 5th, so that simply will not do.

Abdominal pain is constant and fatiguing the shit out of me. I have been trying to work through it, focus my body and my mind elsewhere, to escape the pain, if only for a few moments. There is hell to pay afterwards and it is worth it, because at least, I feel productive. The constant pain has worn me down and I am so ready for a resolution. I will update after my pre-op appointment. For now, that’s really all I’ve got on my health situation.

Thank you, every single one of you, for your love. In this fog that has moved in and overshadowed my life, I feel your love and I see your light and you help me stay strong. Thank you for your prayers and your well wishes and your ongoing and undying support. I love you and I thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I know I’m here because I pinch myself and I feel it. I am glad I’m tethered because touching the ground right now is sporadic for me. I am spinning and flailing and slamming and banging into shit. I am a hot fucking mess lately…a hot fucking mess!

I am determined to get through this appointment and then I am going to go and get my hair cut. Maybe if I look better on the outside, I will feel better on the inside. My hat covers about as much of the disaster that is my hair as the wrinkles and sunken eyes overshadow the tiny spark in my soul this morning. Literally cowered in the darkest corner we could find this morning, Sam and I just want to be left the fuck alone. No wait, Sam and I just want to be held. No…that’s not it either. Sam and I just want to be well…be dead…be and not be hurting…be somewhere other than in the quicksand of this chronic fucking pain…Sam and I, exhausted from dragging this pain around, just want some relief from it all.

With all of that being said, I imagine we al have days like this, don’t we? The meter keeps climbing and the clock keeps ticking…the mercury slowly reaches upward, way past its boiling point. Don’t we all have those moments, where that creeping climb upwards, and the eternity it seems to have taken to have gotten there, all hang in the balance of another moment that will either send us crashing down or keep us reaching skyward? These moments are touch and go, aren’t they? Hit or miss? Our lowest lows bring forth the possibility and the forums for our highest highs. In the crushing pressure of our pain and leveled by the blows that just keep coming, we must learn how to play some ball. We must stop being pummeled by the blows and begin to perfect our batting averages. We must realize that we have been holding our bats all wrong and correct our stance and adjust our grips, so we can make contact with that ball flying at us and hit it out of the fucking park. We must not try to do this…we must just do this! We must learn to play ball.

What does that even mean? Play ball? How do we start playing ball at our age? For fucks sake, watching others play ball wears me out…I cannot imagine jumping in. I mean, I am so out of practice and I never really was that good in the first place. Play ball…that just isn’t for me. I think I will just keep watching others play ball and cheer for them…critque them…Hell no! Hell no, I will not continue to allow my life to be a spectator sport. I will not keep sidelining myself…benching myself and sitting myself out. This disastrous ball game that I haven’t even been able to watch for a while now…this is my fucking life! This is your fucking life too, you know?

My scoreboard still has an old score displayed…decades old, from back in my glory days, when I was winning. The lights are mostly out and I can still make it out, the last game I was really in, I mean really, really in…it has been forever and not so long ago…a lifetime and a quick minute…

I am determined to get back into the game. I really, really am. I need practice and some good one on one coaching. I’m going to have to run some drills and run some laps. I am going to have to get my equipment fitted and my new uniform ordered. I have almost all new teammates and this is definitely not home field. The grass is beautiful, lush and green and the stripes have been freshly painted. Let’s play ball, shall we?

 

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