And Then My Arm Fell On The Floor

Yesterday, I visited with Dr. Painless.

He loaded me up with drugs to take on my upcoming travel-binge “just in case” my arm flares-up.

My arm flares up every time I travel, but neither of us came right out and stated the obvious.

Dr. Painless loves to travel and we often spend a good deal of time chatting about our dream travel destinations.

I love how he has always, always, encouraged me to live the fullest life I can in spite of my physical limitations.

A little later in the day, I texted Paul Newman because I hadn’t heard from him since he got back from vacation.

His silence was a very curious thing.

(We all know, I’d be the first person he’d get in touch with upon his return – right?)

Turns out, Paul Newman is not back.

I’m sure he loved hearing from me while he’s on vacation though?

(And especially when I responded to his catastrophic still-on-vacation information with a text message beginning with the eff word?)

Paul Newman works very, very, hard and he certainly deserves a break from work.

I’m pretty sure his secretary, who scheduled my appointment, needs a vacation too.

(Actually, ahem, I think Paul Newman recently gave her a permanent vacation due to some ongoing … scheduling issues.)

But, alas, now I know ….

Paul Newman will return after I have left on my trip

Which means my arm will explode and fall off my body any day now.

I will have to cart my arm around in a suitcase, attached to my body by a painful string, for several weeks.

Eventually, someday ….

In a land far away,

Paul Newman will be reunited with my arm and be forced to reattach it to my body.

It will not be a fun day for him, for me, or for my arm.

I admit, I felt a big jolt of discouragement when I found out I will have to go so long without treatment.

It comes from knowing what happens when I even skip *one* week.

One visit in seven weeks means …??????

Deep breaths, right?

I can do this?

And if I can’t, I’ve got a suitcase full of Dr. Painless drugs available.

I suppose I can drug myself into oblivion until my arm gets reattached.

Why do I have to be the only person in the world who absolutely hates pain meds?

For that matter, why do I have to be the only person in the world with a (very painful) detachable arm?

Sigh.

2 Responses to “And Then My Arm Fell On The Floor”

  1. Michelle

    Oh no! Will be praying for you, that your arm doesn’t come off – that would be awkward, especially when you are carrying luggage and (a little bit of) camera gear. And that you TAKE THE MEDS! They are there to help, not hinder you. Though I also hate taking pain meds (or any meds for that matter), so I do know where you are coming from.

    Gentle hugs.

    • Suzanne

      Thank you.
      I prefer to stay clear headed and “present” in my life.
      But …
      Sometimes I have no choice but to take pain meds if I want to keep my sanity.

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