So, I re-upped my Botox injections yesterday. It was also my mother’s birthday. I couldn’t visit her grave. That’s an excuse. I break down when I get anywhere near my church or her grave, so I’ve not been. I can’t bring myself to.
I was thinking about my mother while the lovely Dr. H. yammered on about their being new injection site protocols and how I might notice a difference. I did, but I was too distracted to ask questions. For the past week, or weeks, or months. I dont know… for the past while I’ve been aware of my mother’s birthday.
My mother loved yellow roses, and the colour periwinkle.
This past weekend my husband worked on clearing out some things from our attic. Originally, I was of the impression that we were just making room in our attic for some entertaining space by moving our belongings to the back quarter of the area. Of course he meant to clean some things out as well. Of course. I had even read several articles on attic organization in preparation, all of which included purging the unnecessary accumulations of time. Yet, when he mentioned that he was going to take some things to the dump, I became very upset. I suddenly felt as if the world tilted sideways.
Loss. Mourning. Pain.
I spent yesterday evening was spent with friends, and was it welcome and uplifting. I injected myself with DHE and loaded up full of pain medication and went to my favourite place in town for a meeting, and surprisingly so many of my lovely friends were there.
Today, I am suffering the expected symptoms of Botox. It makes me feel like I have the flu for a day or so, and it makes me really nauseous for a few weeks. Then my nausea will clear up.
One of the things that my mother gave me was the theater community. Now, I’ve found a community to which I belong and I feel like my mother would be happy for me if I could sit down and tell her about it. There are so many things that I hope she knows.
I credit my upbringing for the really good things in my life now.
Loss. Mourning. Pain. Depression. Anxiety.
Dr. H. has added a battery of psychological screening questions to her intake. We agree that I’m coping with this period of high pain levels much better than this time last year.
Dr. H. spent Thanksgiving in Florida.
While she was injecting the back of my neck I thought about being in Disney World with my mother, getting caught in the rain, and buying terry cloth Disney slippers to walk around the park in because our shoes were soaked. They were white, with little Mickeys on them.
Little frogs were everywhere.