9:08 pm - Wednesday, Jun. 21, 2006
(For a crazy moment or two, I thought about trying to walk there, but wisely thought better of it--It's at least a mile away, if not further--and I drove instead.)
And finally, I remembered to ask Dr. Hunter the exact term for what had been wrong with me. Both because I was curious and felt in need of further clarification, and also because I wanted to report it accurately in here.
Turns out, I have--or had, I should say--a Meckel's diverticulum, a congenital abnormality that occurs in about two percent of the population. And an abnormality that, within that two percent of the population, rarely acts up the way it did with me (The Good Doctor had seen "Meckel's" before in his practice--He'd be performing surgery on a patient with some other problem, and notice in passing, "Hey, they've got a 'Meckel's'..."--but apparently, he'd never come across one as ill-behaved as mine).
So it wasn't diet, or being overweight, or being stressed, or drinking too much Diet Coke that did me in; It was just garden-variety bad luck--Long story short, I stepped on a congenital landmine.
And I was of two minds upon hearing the news--I was glad to hear it really wasn't something "I did to myself" (Nothing in what I've read so far has said "Meckel's diverticulum only occurs in overweight middle-aged men who masturbate a lot, live in dirty apartments, and worry a lot about their acting careers")--but at the same time, it feels a little freaky/scary that my body can just...well, "pull the rug out from under me" is the way I keep thinking of it. That I can make whatever plans I want...but my body might just have other ideas.
But be that as it may...
Even though this was "congenital roulette", and there's nothing to blame myself for, and nothing I could have done about it (If I discover something different in my research, I'll let you know), it occured to me today that it doesn't negate any of my thinking about taking better care of myself, or of wanting to make this experience the impetus for positive change.
Honestly? I was kind of disappointed when he told me that, but only for a second--Yes, I'm enjoying my "vacation" from work, at a certain level, but I sort of miss it a little too.
And while I make a lot of cracks about not liking work and being "lazy" and whatever, that still doesn't mean I'm comfortable with taking undue advantage of a situation like this.
In other words, if the Doctor says I can go back to "light duty" at work on the 5th, that's okay by me (I'm on "light duty"--no climbing, pushing, pulling, or lifting more than 7-10 lbs--until the 24th of next month).
Speaking of ArcLight, I went there today to see a movie (And to drop off another form from the Doctor).
It was fun to see Casey, and Efrain, and Scott B., and Hannah (They'll be more on Hannah in a future entry), and a number of other folks who seemed genuinely happy to see me.
Efrain said a card had been started for me, after my being in the hospital was announced at one of the rush meetings, but it got lost somewhere as it was being passed around (Not hard to believe, with some 130 employees and a place that's open about 15 hours a day)
(It's pretty rare I can say this about a movie, even a movie I think is quite good, but I think everyone I know who reads this journal would enjoy A Prairie Home Companion. So go see it when you get the chance.)
Singing bass since I was in 6th grade, I've spent a lifetime frustrated by the range of my singing voice, particularly as a musical theater performer. So it was always nice when I had a chance to not be frustrated, to not have to worry about "hitting the high notes", by getting to sing exactly in my range and have it sound good)
But more than that feeling of having my voice work, I remember feeling close to people when singing in harmony with them. Because you have to really listen, you have to watch, you have to focus on "fitting together".
I miss that.
What can I say? Baby needs a new set of everything...
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