I had a bad turn last night. Very bad.
It's true, yes, that the specter of homelessness positively terrifies me. And that the thought of growing old, and finding myself completely useless to society, also disturbs me somewhat. What also scares me, is being utterly alone. It came to a head when I fell in the kitchen back in early April.
It really was driven home, last night.
I almost passed out, last night, twice.
The first time really would have been embarrassing: I was, erm..on the loo, in the middle of..erm..well, you know. But, I ran a cold face cloth over my hot face and neck, and the extreme woozyness left me. Or, so I thought.
I went and sat down for a bit, felt a little better. Then slowly got up and went to the kitchen for a cold sweet tea.
Got to the middle of the kitchen floor--suddenly felt weak, then dizzy, and began to feel my face grow hot again, then, my vision literally started failing, and everything started going black--no, it's not something writer's make up, this really is what happens when you start to pass out, I guess.
So, I was going to go into the living room to ring up 911 for an ambulance--but never made it. The vertigo was so bad, I barely made it to my bed.
I laid on the bed, my feet elevated, trying to force myself to calm down, and to desperately remember what to do if you start to faint (from my high school first-aid class, roughly 30 years ago).
So, I elevated my legs, lay flat, breathed slowly, and tried to think of other things besides fainting--anything. Think I came up with the parts of a western saddle, the interior details of the New Dr Who's Tardis, what my room growing up looked like, the proper sequence of the Dewy Decibel System (library thing), and the names of all the different types of stage lighting--didn't work, all I could remember was "frenel,"--so I tried remember the names of stage directions and their proper positions..and then, I was calm again.
I picked up a book, read a bit--to calm myself some more, and eventually felt well enough to risk going to sleep.
I'm badly anemic, that I know, despite taking iron. If I take too much iron, it has a very negative effect on my already stressed out stomach, so I take the minimum dose. I have a woman's problem, and I have been putting it off for months, because, honestly, I just don't want to. What I have can only be 3 things, roughly, two relatively benign, that will eventually sort themselves out, as I grow a bit older (I'm at THAT age, you see, ladies). One isn't benign. And I don't want to know. If it's that--well, it's probably too far along by now, to do anything about. And, besides, it would mean the end of everything--not much different result than being homeless, just a bit more...permanent. I've no one to miss me here, but the cats, have I? My job is meaningless and I am not very good at it, and my bosses could replace me too easily I'm afraid.
But...yeah, the thought of me passed out or dead here---no one would know. No one would even think to check for days...I mean that. No one would know. Not a soul. It's like my dad's brother, Uncle Pauly, who died before I was born. He fell in his bathroom, and lay there for a few days, before anyone found him. Same with mum's dad, my grandfather William. He killed himself and no one knew for a whole day. And, back in the late 40's, my mum was out on a date, when her mum went.
There's a few things that really scare me. I'm not afraid of death, don't think I ever will be again. But, dying alone...I don't mind admitting, that just scares me a little, yeah.
normalguy
hugs xxx take care of yourself more or else!!