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|buttercupistiny (profile) wrote, |
on 5-10-2008 at 9:31pm
|Subject: A Day in the Life
|from the moment I wake up on my side, constant reminders. It's my bed, my alarm clock, in my parents' room. pain in my side, great. Good morning to you too Edward. Flipping over, now that takes some work to pull off. but I manage. I walk myself up to sitting with my elbows, only to fall down a couple times. There. I'm up. no clean cotton for this kid. oh no. stupid leakage protection pad. feels like I've got an honest to god towel between my legs. time to get dressed. so little fits now. my arms are huge, and there's always the chance that my colostomy, Edward, will make his presence known and I'll be stuck with a third boob all day. pulling up pants is a freaking chore. stepping into them, that was easy. now it's lean and hike, lean and hike, over and over and over. and then I can't fasten them because I sit all day and they irritate the scars. I have a waist, but my legs are atrophying. pants look really stupid sometimes. I'm glad hip huggers are in style because they're low riding and I don't have to worry about them hitting my colostomy. I dread the day that flares go out. putting on clean socks has always been my favorite. now it's just frustrating. I miss the way my sneakers felt when I laced them. I shrug. nothing I can do about that now. I roll to the bathroom, grimace at myself in the mirror. get it out of my system. "you're still beautiful" I tell myself, following the instructions of a close friend. "Yeah, but I never thought I was beautiful in the first place, so what difference does it make?" I smart mouth back. there. that felt better. good old self deprecation. never fails. I'm running late. I want to leap down the stairs two or three at a time. but no, lock, transfer, down the stairs at an excruciatingly slow pace. transfer. I grab my backpack. man I miss slinging that thing around. granted, I complained almost constantly, but my shoulders miss its padded straps. no climbing up the school bus steps for me, oh now. the loud rickety lift creaks and then smacks against the concrete. I wish I could walk to school again. quiet and unnoticed, that would be pretty awesome. tying myself down on the bus is humiliating. I feel like a shipping container. not a person, a thing. We get to school, down with the lift, off with me. I never used to get to school in time to do anything beforehand. I feel so stupid. I go and hang with my new friends. They're pretty awesome. except we sit by the quad. apparently when it was built it was "the spirit pit" steps lead down in. my friends and I sit/stand on the first tier on the side by the planter. it only sucks when the group gets so big that we extend down a step and I can't hug a new arrival unless they come up to me. no sneak attacks either. the bell rings and it's off to class, where teachers stick me in the front or the back, whichever happens to be closest to the door. I miss having a randomly assigned seat.
Dinner eventually happens. I pull up to the table, my spot doesn't have a chair anymore, just an empty space.
I head up to bed eventually. into the bathroom. I pull my hair up into a bun. I can barely see above my shoulders in the mirror. I go to brush my teeth, and my chin barely gets far enough to spit into the sink. I dislike being small at that moment. I change into pajamas, and of course change my socks. but neither of those things change my attitude like they used to. I transfer to my bed. pick up my legs one at a time and rest them on the bed. I turn so my back is now towards my headboard and pick up my leg. Visual self examination. new bruise? new scratch? new pressure mark I need to watch? this time I find nothing. I lower the leg to my pajama pants and repeat the process. All clear. I bend my right knee and flop unceremoniously onto my right side. I grab the body pillow and pull it up between my thighs. I swing my hip to bring my left leg up to the pillow, sometimes it gets there, sometimes it requires assistance. I position my leg. I turn my torso slightly, to squish the right side of my stomach. hopefully force something out of my colostomy during the night. I grab moo and fluffy. I flick the switches to turn on my alarm. I turn off my light. I try to wiggle my toes. I see a star. I make a wish. maybe it'll come true. a few have. I turn on some music and close my eyes. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I wonder if anyone ever wished this on me. "that's just stupid," I argue. "go to bed." So I do.
Repeat until sanity is strained