25 April 2007

IBS in Crazy Land

The pest control guys get it. The problem isn't my cats. It's not my cats' food. It's that they're digging up that field across the road. It's that the city is replacing all of the sewer lines all down this street (even I didn't remember that). It's that the building is old and the neighbors are derelict in their responsibilities. Of course, none of that means people won't still decide to be miffed at me. That's fine. You know how I like being right, though. And I am right.

You know, I could just go on and on about the silent treatment and the rats and the fleas. I have a tendency to get a little obsessive. It's possible I may be a little defensive. (Oh surely not!) I'll spare you the gory details and try to move on. I hear the Chief Shunner downstairs talking to the pest control guys. What an idiot. Okay, I'm moving on now.

I found out why Loathsome isn't in the office this week. It's because Owner told him not to come here. He has to stay at the client's site. All of the time. I wouldn't be surprised if Owner didn't try to make him sleep over there. I guess the client's security people would have a problem with that, though. I'm glad to know he's not still on vacation. That was really annoying me in a big way.

You'd think that after being diagnosed with breast cancer, nothing else could really rattle my cage. I guess everyone's unhappiness with me has taken a toll, as much as I hate to admit it. I have IBS and the stress has made that kick in, even though I never had it during the most stressful months of cancer treatment. So I've been in pain for several days now.

On the grand scale of needles in the breast, chemotherapy sores in the mouth or reconstruction agony, this pain is small. However, it is constant pain. It really makes me angry that I've allowed Crazy Land to get inside my head this way. I'm trying not to be annoyed with myself, because that makes it worse (of course). So today I feel whiny, obsessive and a little vindictive.

The good news is that last night was my first night alone. My mom has been staying over ever since I had reconstruction surgery. I love my Mom and I'm infinitely grateful for her help. I don't know how I would have gotten through this without her. Having said that, I'm a person who needs a lot of alone time and I haven't had any for a couple of months now.

Andy the Demon Dog seems to be much better behaved when it's just the two of us. Or rather, three if you count the Sheba Woo. What a relief to not be fending off his arm-gnawing. It's a miracle I have all of my limbs intact.

I spent my evening reading the mammoth biography I've been working on for about a month or so. I still didn't finish it, but we're heading into Levi's final days. I'm saddened by his struggles.

However, I'm looking forward to my next book, which I already have picked out. It's a biography of Zen spiritual master Hakuin Ekaku, who lived from 1685-1768. It's been quite some time since I read any new Buddhist books. They used to keep me from moving into the dark moods that sometimes overtake me. I stopped reading them about the time I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was just too hard to concentrate on anything other than enduring.

I reread The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying at some point in my treatment. My memory of those days is a little fuzzy, though.

It's time for lunch now. We're having a going-away luncheon for a co-worker of mine. Not going. The food will be inhospitable. I'm not feeling particularly charitable towards any of the other Crazy Land denizens. I have officially sentenced them to the harsh punishment of dealing with each other. Plus, this will give them all extra time to talk to each other about how mad they are at me. I'm happy to oblige. My colon and I are signing off now.

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