Pain, real and imagined

Wasted day feeling like I was carrying a 70 lb person on my back through the 9 hours of parades yesterday – went to the Quarter to have lunch with S and got some cool stack shoes with red flames on them and some more purple stockings for tomorrow. Then home for the much needed nap that never really gelled because the phone kept ringing. P called and said there was a little fright with L but that all was well again.

Later L called and I went and met him for an afternoon walk around the bayou with the Bean and his boys. That is the first Arlene has been out since her episode and I walked her easily. L was asking me how I am doing with everything and I told him I had been fine but in the last forty eight hours had developed a jones that wasn’t abating and I was trying to find a place to put it so that it didn’t wreck me – he said you have to – we can’t grind on this kind of stuff – but then again – what else? You try to find a place to put things and those feelings burst out when you least suspect it and no matter how you fight to put the monster back in its hiding place, it rears its head and you are paralyzed to do anything. As we were passing C&P’s house L said why don’t you come over tonight and I told him I was not even going to go over there and watch him sassify with his bad self and we both laughed so hard L bent over with his head between his legs. I laughed so hard I almost cried.

Then came home and mom and S came over bringing some Middle Eastern food with them and we went to see the LaLa because S hadn’t seen it yet. There was a big gash in the front porch step that was disheartening – out of the blue – don’t know how it got there. But then we came back here and ate and talked and drank some wine. Meanwhile the Can slipped a note under the door that my rent is going up by $200 just because they can because the place is full. That is the post-Katrina reality – rents and real estate going up to some abnormal heights as if the people who have chose to stick it out here should be penalized for the lack of 300,000 other people who have decided not to.

It’s hard to see S in the state she is in – RSDS – chronic pain – caused by a freak accident over two years ago from a dentist visit – she’s a mess and can’t seem to pull out of it. Brings mom to tears and you just keep thinking of ways that she might be able to pull out of it but then it seems like doors close and hardly any open. Towards the end of dinner she went and lay down on the sofa and mom cried and I just shook my head. Because there is nothing anyone can do about it to make it all better and S doesn’t seem to be able to pull away from the pain medication that is the only thing that is keeping her from driving off a cliff.

Meanwhile the Can is a mess – all of S’s boxes are here and there as we went up on top of the loft closet and pulled down everything that is possibly his to take with him to California and now the truck arrives here on Thursday – bringing all the cabinets for the LaLa to store here – and to pick up S’s stuff on Friday. I’ll be at a conference after Mardi Gras in Orlando and when I return S will spend one more night here and then leave on Saturday. Back to California, his home.

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