Murphy's Law: If something can go wrong, it will. That's been my luck in both small and big things; inconsequential and monstrously important. For the majority of my life, Murphy and I have been close. It's been the norm, and I was used to it. I adopted a positive attitude anyway. I might as well. I can't dance, but I sure made the music along the way.
But somehow, someway, that all changed in the past year or so. I don't know how or why, but no matter what I do, even if I engage in my usual self-sabotaging behaviors, things have worked out anyway. It's so bizarre to have things work out, and work out better than I could hope for, and even though there's no way that they should work out.
At first, it started out with money. I've been allergic to money my whole life. Pennies screamed, I stretched them so much. That's the way it was, I accepted it and was happy as long as the bills were paid. So, when I became ill, it was devastating to my finances. But, it all worked out. Somehow, the ship didn't sink. It actually worked out pretty well. I don't know how, but it did.
This illness, still unnamed and undiagnosed and still very ill, came about. I should have died several times. I came very close to death several times. The doctors thought for sure pancreatic cancer was doing me in, but not one biopsy came back positive. And, I'm still alive. Major surgery back in July was tailored to keeping me as comfortable as possible until the end came, but alas, no cancer.
So a few days ago, I was scheduled for a CT and it was smack dab in the middle of the winter's major freeze, a polar vortex, and wouldn't you know it, the heater in my car had quit. The cold destroyed the battery in Tim's car, so we had to take my rolling freezer down to Little Rock. Thinking about that was secondary to the fact that I was a bit, um, constipated, a first in over a year. I got things moving right along, ahem, and once that was done, I had a sharp very severe pain in my chest and up my neck. I staggered out of the bathroom screaming, "I'm having a heart attack! I'm having a heart attack!" and called 911. By the time the ambulance got here, the pain had gone, they decided it was just that major Number 2 I just had and off they went without me. Then, while driving to the gas station to fill up, the heater in my car kicked in and Tim and I had a very comfortable trip.
The last time I had a CT with contrast, I broke out itching about five hours or so afterward. I mentioned that to the tech after drinking the half gallon of contrast dye and two hours wait time. He said we'd have to reschedule, but when he talked to the doctor, they decided to go ahead and do the scan with contrast (they give more via IV too) and send me on my way with a Benedryl. The entire test is done while you're laying on your back, and I have not been able to lay down in over two months without extreme pain. The tech said that he was not surprised by the amount of pain I was in: the fluid built up was pressing so hard on my kidneys and nerves in my back that my kidneys were about half their usual size. I was in tears, but the tech ran the scans in about half the usual time it takes to do them, wonderful young man that he was. No immediate reaction to the contrast, no Benedryl and only a little bit of itching later on.
Heat in my car, no heart attack, no allergic reaction and a scan ran in cut time. Not bad, Murphy. Not bad at all.
I have a working theory. I think Murphy is held off because I dedicate every venture outside my house to helping someone that just might cross my path. I think that's what's doing it. No matter what I'm going through, there's always someone to help in a big or small way and I look for it. I can think of no other reason to keep me going.
