For the past year or so, every month or six weeks I get these weird stomach problems that I hate more than anything. It's a process and no matter what I do, I can't figure out what triggers it or anyway to stop it. I've tried taking extra acid reducers (I already take some daily!), eating, not eating, and drinking different things including baking soda in water that I read somewhere is supposed to help sour stomachs. I've talked to a few different doctors and none of them can really tell what it is or what causes it.
It usually starts in the evening. Physically, I feel fine but I get a sour stomach which makes me burp up this terrible tasting stuff. It reminds me of rotten eggs! It's absolutely disgusting. Anyway, I usually go to bed like this: feeling okay but with the sour stomach. Then I'll wake up at three or so in the morning and have to run to the bathroom. I'll puke and puke and usually stay on the floor in front of the toilet in a kind of stupor until my dad comes to check on me and makes me go back to bed. Sometimes I'll be lucky and that will be the extent of it and sometimes I'll wake up a while later and go right back at it. The past few times have been the latter type of experience. A few months ago I actually got so sick I started seeing bits of blood in my vomit.
So, why exactly am I telling you all of this? Well, first, I feel like complaining. Second, this whole process happened to me this past Monday night/Tuesday morning and when I get sick like this I spend a lot of time staring into the toilet and thinking, thinking, thinking.
This particular time, I got thinking about fears. I remember when I was younger, I was absolutely terrified of throwing up. I mean, nobody really likes it; it's a horribly unpleasant experience and it's associated with feeling awful. But I absolutely dreaded it and when I had the stomach flu and felt terrible, I would do everything I possibly could to avoid actually throwing up.
A few years ago, I got put on a new medication that did not agree with my body at all. I can only guess I was allergic to it or something because the entire time I was on it, I was terribly sick to my stomach, vomiting close to every day. Eventually I got off of the medicine and went back to feeling normal but I definitely got something out of the experience. Puking all the time like that, I had had no choice but to face my fear! After that whole experience, I no longer was afraid of throwing up. Quite the contrary, actually. I learned that throwing up can provide a lot of relief. As horrible as throwing up is, usually afterwards I feel so much better just getting all sorts of awful stuff out of my system.
In high school, I took a Philosophy class taught by my step-dad, Leo. For the most part, it was really chaotic and we spent most of our time talking and arguing and I don't know that we got a whole lot of work done, but I really enjoyed it. I remember one day, we were talking about fears. Leo started on one side of the classroom and asked every student, if they were willing, to share their deepest fear. I was sitting on the opposite side of the classroom and got a few minutes to think about my answer.
Immediately, my mind jumped to spiders. That's kind of my automatic answer to when people ask what I'm afraid of because it's true. Spiders. Freak. Me. Out. I hate them! They just give me the creeps. I've never even had some terrible, traumatic experience with them. I was just born that way.
But I got to thinking. You know how sometimes you'll take quizzes or people will ask you, "What would you do for a million dollars? What would you do to save a life? What are your limits?" And the truth is, as much as I despise and fear spiders, there, absolutely, are circumstances under which I would endure any concocted torture involving arachnids.
It was following this train of thought that I realized what it is I'm most afraid of. By the time Leo got to me, I had my answer:
"I'm afraid of losing loved ones. I, myself, am not afraid to die. Not at all. But I'm terrified of having to live without the people I love."
If I could choose what to be afraid of, this would definitely not make the list. It's a nice idea and all but this kind of fear is the absolute worst to have because it is completely, 100% unavoidable. Take, for example, another one of my fears: sharks. Like spiders, I have this sort of irrational fear of them, but as long as I steer clear of swimming in the ocean, I should be fine. Not hard, considering I live hundreds of miles from any coast.
Loved ones dying, however, I can do nothing to prevent. And the longer I live, the more I'll lose. The longer I live, the more attached I will become to my loved ones and it will be harder and harder to lose them. This has already been proven true. When I was pretty young, I lost my great-grandmother and a few other adults I didn't know that well. I vaguely remember being sad to hear that they died and I kind of remember the funerals.
But when I was fifteen, I lost a dear friend in a car accident and it was horrible, for me and everyone else. Since I was older when it happened, I remember so many more details and the pain is still so sharp. I remember finding out and sobbing on the floor and I remember the funeral, seeing my friend in a coffin, only it didn't look like him at all and that was even more horrible.
Then earlier this year, in April, I woke up one morning to my phone ringing. My dad told me that my grandpa had been found in his gator on the side of the road, passed out. An ambulance had been called, my dad said, and he would call me as soon as he had any updates. I remember sitting on my bed then, just kind of numb. When my dad called back a little later, I think I knew what he was going to say before he said it, but I still remember his sharp intake of breath, his trembly voice, telling me that Grandpa had died. Even now, I remember going out to sit on our front steps, waiting for my sister to come and get me, and looking up at the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. At the time it seemed cruel, like the weather was mocking our pain, but looking back now it seems like more of a nice farewell gesture.
I guess it's possible that, like throwing up, this is a fear that I will face and face and finally become okay with, but I really doubt it, and in a way, I kind of hope not. That would be horrible. But I guess that the more people there are that I love and fear losing, the more people I'll have with me to help me cope.
And you thought of all this while gazing into the depths of a toilet bowl, did you, Sarah?
Yes! And so much more, like "What time is it, anyway? I wonder if Dad has been able to sleep with me retching in the background..", intermixed with random lyrics from the Shuler's production of "Miracle on 34th Street."
An update on my dad's cell phone, if you're interested:
He's getting better and better everyday! He is getting faster at texting and has successsfully learned to answer his calls. True, he uses an unclicked ACE pen to push the letters on his phone's keyboard instead of his finger, but progress is progress!
Man, these blogs take me really, really long to write! But in this case, it has afforded me the opportunity to be the first to wish you...
HAPPY ST. ANDREWS DAY!!
Sarah
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