I haven't been here....

Wow. The last two weeks are a blurry head trip.  I have been really sick and  in the hospital twice.  I still feel fairly crappy and low. 
I know I have chronic, mild depression; been there, diagnosed that.  But SHIT.
Would someone please turn the lights back on?  911 shrink.
Which is to say, I feel like my feelings are whacked.  I have been reading too much stuff online.  I think I need a 12 step group for that.  It is folk wisdom and some of it is probably pretty 'folked' up.
And yet, on and on I read... searching for answers to the black cloud in my head and the cramp in my side.
Woman... get thee to thy shrink.

sick of sick or how do I dig myself out?

I have not posted here for awhile because I've been too sick.  I spent the weekend in the hospital and had an upper endoscopy done on Monday.  I left the hospital with an unresolved UTI and was told to follow up with my dr.  So, I saw her on Thursday and she said, "urologist."
I finally saw one today and the infection has worsened a great deal since I left the hospital.  I had not been given the correct antibiotic for the infection.
The hospital was a nightmare.  I went in on Thursday at 9 pm because I was spewing out both ends for hours and in a great deal of pain. I was also bleeding.  It took three  hours to get a room and then I was told I had a bladder infection and on top of that all the other stuff, they were admitting me.  I got into a room at 6:00a.m.  They treated me with iv antibiotics, fluids and pain meds but I never saw the same doctor twice and no one ever called in a specialist when my infection did not clear.  Instead, they told me to go home and deal with it separately.  I seemed to be taking up space they needed.  Then they lost my medications.  I am just really angry.  Here it is, Wednesday, and I have just been told by the urologist that the hospital should have given me the right meds and I wouldn't be this sick. 
I feel worn out and run over and like I've fallen down this deep hole of Katie's crappy health.
I cannot find the bottom of the hole.  I just keep falling.  Every once in awhile I grab onto a foothold or handhold and think I have myself balanced, and then... WHAM.
I want to get healthier.  I am trying.  Everyone and their dog has an opinion of how I am not doing it right or whatever or maybe, just maybe that I'm nuts.  I don't know what to believe myself anymore.

I have been off of gluten for 10 weeks and think it helps.  I got positive tests for Celiac's which sort of made that more the point.  I was excited about it.  Today, I find out that the gastro saw no signs of Celiac damage when he biopsied my stomach on Monday.  So what does that mean?  I will see him in two weeks.
So am I doing this gluten thing for no reason?  Am I really getting better?  WTF?
I'm confused and sad and tired and I wish my parents were here to tell me how to make things all better. 
The hospital was very lonely.  In my family we always stay by the bedside of the sick person and watch over their care.  No one could do that for me this week.   Stan had to take care of the kids.  It was scary.
Maybe I will sleep now and dream of no pain and no doctors.  

Happy Birthday, Mom

Hi Mommy. 
This is your 80th.  I know you planned to be here for it.  We miss you so much.  I hope you are having a great, big party in heaven: lots of wine and snacks:)
If you run into Jesus, tell him you would like to see the water into wine trick, and no cheap stuff either.
Let daddy and grandfather have a highball.  Maybe you and grandmother can go shopping at some cosmic version of Ross.  You can dig around and find a bargain set of wings.  Or, if Nana wants to take you to lunch and then shopping, go for it. Just don't let BomBom drive; you could get killed.
I wonder what Uncle Rusty is doing there?  I hope he has lots of pets.  Please give everyone a kiss from me and know that for me, you are forever my mommy. Katie

The Rhetorical Triangle

Pathos: My heart is breaking. Look at me.  I am naked and underfed.  My skin clings to me like plastic wrap.  The pit of Sheol is my home.  Look at me.
Ethos: Abandoning me is wrong.  It will come to you in a dream that I have been left behind.  You will know this was a bad decision. You will know my pain.
Logos: The word is made flesh and dwelt among us.  God is with us.  We are not along.  Praise be to God.

Closets

I am thinking
Why do I always clean the closets-
The animal hair-
The detritus of this family?
Do I expect it to stay clean?
For order to be returned to the chaos of my universe?
It won't be.
My life will still remain hairy and full of abandoned things.
And in the far corners I will look for control,
And find none.

Effing cold... freezing people... literally.

So nothing was canceled today.  It is 15 degrees in Austin and we all had to function like normal.  Except that is wasn't normal.  We have had rolling blackouts.  It makes me think what it must be like in countries where that is the norm.  We take a lot for granted.
Yesterday I saw a homeless person leaning into a shopping cart, unconscious in the cold.  I was on my way and late to something but I could not drive by and not do anything.  Frankly, the person looked dead. I called 911 and reported the person and the location so someone could check it out.  I feel rather cowardly for not stopping to investigate myself but I was not up to that.  But... how many people are sleeping on the streets on these cold, cold nights?  Why are there?  How in the hell does a wealthy society allow this?  I don't understand. 
I hope the person I saw and reported was just stone drunk and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.  I did not hear of a death reported on the news.  But, then again, maybe it would not be news. 
Why does God allow this suffering?  Damned good question.
God does not allow it.  It is.  We are.  The world is broken and people freeze to death in one of the wealthiest nations on earth.  Yet, God is there somewhere.  Christ is there, freezing on the sidewalk. 
I just read Lamb: the gospel according to Biff (JC's bff).  It is hilarious but spot on.  The Jesus (Josh) portrayed in the book is doubtful and angry at times.  In the end, he goes to the cross to make a point to his dad.. suffering ends here... no more.
It was an interesting pitch to the story.  There were gaps, to be sure.  But, it was compelling somehow to think of Jesus Christ as angry with his dad... so angry he would let himself be killed to make a point.  What a rebellious child.  That would totally piss me off and make me want to kill my kid for that sort of thing:)
But, it was compelling nonetheless. 
Does God know about our suffering?  Does God give a crap? 
I have to say yes.  I cannot look at the empty tomb and say no.  In the end, at all costs, there is mercy.  Maybe it is a call from 911.  Maybe it is a bottle of gin.  But, out of the chaos comes hope and grace and love.  Hope. Grace. Love. 
May all three surround the people on our streets today.