Purging the Toxins

Thursday morning, I got greeted by one of those things that you just never, ever like.  In this case, it was a simple text message from Shera that said simply, "I’m at the ER."  And this coming before I’ve even made it to work, no less.  Needless to say, I was immediately in a panic.  My very first thought was to just ditch work and just go see her, but she quickly talked me out of that  when I called her.  So I went to work utterly worried.  A few hours later, she calls me to tell me that she’s been discharged with prescriptions, but that she’s likely to need her gall bladder out pretty soon.  Never you mind that this is the day after she found out the odds are 50/50 that she’s going to develop cervical cancer.  So later on that day, I take off work early to go see her.  I barely made in the door before she was getting physically ill for the umpteenth time that day.  After about an hour and a half, her mom decided it was time to go to the ER again (because it just wasn’t getting better….none of the pain or nausea medicine would stay down for any amount of time).  This time, it was to a better hospital.  So for five hours we sat, waiting for the official verdict.  In the end, the doctor said that, yes, she did have "sludge" in her gall bladder (which no 18 year old should ever, ever have), and that it may have to come out sometime in the future (or perhaps not at all), but that what was tearing her apart that day was just a really, really bad stomach virus.  One that I’ve personally never seen the likes of.

But it’s just another thing in the long line of stuff that really makes Shera’s "God hates me" theory really stand up.  Seriously……..can one person go through anything else in their life?  And this is just the first 18 years of hers!  I sometimes find myself fearing what horrors could be next for her.  One person can only go through so much, y’know?  And yet, she continues to show strength through it all.  I was more worried than her about the cervical cancer test results.  Somehow, she managed to maintain a sense of humor while laid out in the hospital for the second time in a day.  She just never ceases to amaze me.

Friday evening, I got a crying phone call requesting my presence, so I took leave of my mom early and rushed right out to Greenbrier, Shera’s Christmas present in hand (she knew what it was already, and had originally planned to come with me to my mom’s house that night to get it, not to mention meet my mother, but that plan was obviously derailed by the virus).  Seeing the smile Talking Steve put on her face was worth more than anything to me.  I watched Laverne and Shirley with her for a couple of hours before leaving her to go to sleep.

All I want to know is………what the fuck does this woman have to do to catch a break?

Now Playing in Dave’s Mental Jukebox:  "Valentine" by The Vincent Black Shadow, "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath, and "Breathe" by Kittie

I finally had my first real break down over the loss of my best friend last Sunday.  It isn’t even that he has chosen to abandon me that bothers me the most…….it’s that he hasn’t cared to say anything to me.  All the years of telling me that something exactly like this would never happen have come to mean nothing in the face of reality.  An explanation would’ve been nice, but I guess I should’ve known not to expect one.  It fits the profile perfectly.  Of course, I could try to force one by just kind of showing up………..but I think I’m beyond that point of caring anymore.  And that’s sad.  Twenty-two years……..and for what?  Makes me look like a fucking idiot for defending him for years against those who told me he wasn’t a very good friend to me.  I know I wasn’t the greatest of friends myself, far from it quite often (I have zero trouble admitting that)……but I also don’t believe I did anything that warrants this.

And, of course, who was there to pick me up and help me through it but the physical embodiment of my universe herself, Shera.  I had put the "22 years, and for what?" question to her last weekend, and her answer was, "So that I can replace him."  And, even though it can’t even possibly be the same (because, afterall, nothing can replace 22 years of shared history), she already had replaced him before this even went down.  I just can’t help but wonder if/how he’s explained this to his parents, who thought of me like their other son…

But that’s enough of all this mess.  I tire of making myself think about all that is lost.  Onwards and upwards, as it were.  I don’t have a choice, really, do I?  Lament not what is lost, merely remember what is gained.  Or something like that.  Besides, I would just hate to think I was ever a burden on my friends, so let me not ever, ever complain to them again.  Wait…what "them"?  There’s only one left now….  And she’s always there when I need her.  Anyway…I go.

Sayonara.