On Humble Beginnings (Blog #634)

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It’s an hour before midnight on Christmas Eve, and I’ve spent most the day cuddled up in my favorite chair, reading. For me, today has been like most any other, since our family stopped celebrating Christmas over twenty years ago. It’s a long story. Part of me wishes I could go back and rewrite it, since I think traditions are important and my thinking around this particular tradition has changed a lot. But, of course, it’s hard to wind back the clock. Plus, once you’ve lost the magic of something, it’s difficult to regain it.

But not impossible, perhaps.

Really, I’m fine with this. Sure, when I see pictures of others celebrating with friends and loved ones and opening presents, a part of me misses that. But I’ve been with my family all day long, and I haven’t had to spend a dime on presents. Which is good, since I don’t have a dime. But I do miss the sparkle around the season. I used to adore decorating the tree and putting up lights on the outside of the house. Really, looking back at how I’d climb on the roof and meticulously unscrew and re-screw every bulb until they were perfectly arranged–green, red, green, red–someone should have told me a long time ago that I was a homosexual. Anyway, the last few years I’ve made an effort to participate and celebrate, if only a little. This year I helped a friend decorate the outside of their house. I was in a holiday variety show.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

I think one of the hardest things to do is accept your life both as it is and how it’s been. Especially in today’s world of social media, it’s so easy to compare yourself to others. Just scroll through your phone for a minute–one minute!–and you can see everything you’re not in terms of looks, friends, prestige, and holiday celebrations. But to really sit with your story, with all your humble beginnings, this is a tough thing to do. My mom’s been depressed since I was a child. Our home burned down when I was four. My dad went to prison. As if this weren’t enough to make us different, we stopped celebrating Christmas, and (years later) I came out of the closet.

This evening my sister, her husband, and their boys went to a friend’s house for dinner. A friend of theirs and their family ended up being there–because their home burned down tonight. The family was okay, but their pets died. This went on while my parents and I went out to eat at Chili’s and I shoved down a plateful of fajitas, two beers, and a chocolate molten lava cake. Granted, it wasn’t extravagant in terms of “what’s expected,” but we were together. Anyway, this is the world we live in. The worst things happen alongside the best things.

Back home from dinner, I returned to my reading chair. After my sister and her crew got home, my older nephew, who spends most his time in his own world and really isn’t into socializing, crawled up in my chair and read his comic book alongside me. Didn’t say a word. Just snuggled up between one armrest and me and turned his pages. It was the sweetest thing; I wouldn’t trade the thirty minutes he sat there for the world. Who’s to say if this would have happened in a living room full of packages? I mean, I’ve seen my nephew around presents.

It wouldn’t have happened.

Yesterday my friend Bonnie gave me a pack of positive affirmation cards called AFFIRMATORS!, and they’re my new favorite thing. There are over fifty cards in the pack, and the idea is that you shuffle them “like a three year-old” and pull one out at random. Well, get this shit. Three times today (out of four) I pulled out the same card–Magic. I’m including a picture of it here, but the idea is that life is a great mystery, and we’re surrounded by serendipity and wonderful, inexplicable happenings. Anyway, on a day that used to be filled with magic for me, during a time in my life that’s so difficult, it was the perfect reminder that miracles can occur in the most unlikely of places and circumstances.

Just after I pulled this card for the first time, I got a text message from a friend from high school that I haven’t talked to in–I don’t know–five or ten years. I guess they were last-minute shopping; they wanted to buy some dance lessons. This ended up being the perfect thing. They got a gift to give to someone they care about, and I got some cash (which I really needed). Anyway, I kept hearing my therapist’s voice in my head, since a couple weeks ago, after having injured my knee, I was bemoaning my financial prospects and suggested I could liquidate a few things. “Naw,” my therapist said, “let the universe do something.” And so it did. Talk about a Christmas miracle.

Magic.

In other good news, the skin rash that I’ve had for the last few weeks is finally getting better. Like, not just a little; a lot. I’ll spare you the details, but I figured out the right cream to use on it. Maybe this seems like a small matter, but when life’s knocked you down over and over (and over) again, it’s really delightful to be on the receiving end of a win. And in light of the fact that I’ll be having knee surgery in a day and a half, it’s nice knowing my body isn’t completely falling apart and that something’s on the mend. It’s good to be reminded that with a little persistence (and not a little magic) things can improve.

God’s got a big thing for humble beginnings.

Despite the fact that I’m not currently surrounded by the trappings of Christmas, I keep thinking about the mythological image of Jesus being born in a manger. I love that part of the story, since it reminds me that God’s got a big thing for humble beginnings. Shit, I can only imagine what Joseph and Mary must have felt like that night–worn out, tired, pregnant, no room in the inn. Surely one of them must have thought, God, I could use a break tonight. I could use a little magic here. Personally, I would have been pissed. Especially if I were Mary. I would have been looking everywhere for Gabriel, and when I found him I would have said, “You mean to tell me that first The Divine knocks me up, and now he wants me to deliver his kid in a barn?!” But I’m reminded tonight that The Divine is into this, into stories that don’t make sense from a human perspective, into “what seems small is big.”

With these things in mind, I’m doing my best to honor my story, including my past and present, as it is and not as I wish it were. Because no matter how humble or challenging and no matter how it compares to another’s, this is my life–my one, unique, and precious life. And no matter what, being alive is a gift. No matter how dark the night or bleak the circumstances, if you’re alive, you’re alive, and you’re story’s not over. And who’s to say what The Divine will make of your humble beginnings?

Who’s to say what magic lies ahead?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The truth doesn’t suck.

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Closer and Closer (Blog #425)

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Believe it or not, I’ve been up since 6:45 this morning and have been going (mostly) strong for 17 hours. Now it’s just before midnight, and I’m ready to pass out. However, that won’t happen until this blog’s done, nor will it happen until I change the sheets on my bed, which my doctor told me this morning that I should do. That’s right, I have a prescription for clean sheets. Did you know you’re supposed to wash those suckers more than once every presidential term?

As some of you are aware, my health since last October has been spotty at best. For months I had a sinus infection, then caught the flu twice, and have been struggling with a rather nasty skin irritation where no one wants a skin irritation. My primary care physician, whom I saw for the first time in January, then again in February, referred me to an immunologist, the thought being that I was basically born without a full deck in terms of my immune system. So six weeks ago I saw the immunologist, who said my blood work so far was pristine. “But let’s run some more tests,” he said. “We’ll check your lymphocytes and your antibody response to two vaccines.”

So that’s what we did, the final results came in last week, and I saw BOTH my doctors this morning. First I saw my primary care physician, and we mostly talked about two things–my allergy and skin issues–and my feeling shaky. I’ll do my best to keep this simple. In terms of my allergies, she said, “Let’s get you tested to see WHAT you’re allergic too. Once we know, it may be as simple as avoiding exposure (wouldn’t that be nice?). In the meantime, get new pillows if they’re older than six months (uh, try fifteen years) and clean your sheets, since dust mites are a problem for a lot of people, and they like to live where you like to sleep. Also, here’s a new cream to try for your rash.”

Speaking of the rash, earlier she’d said, “Maybe you’re allergic to condoms.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’d have to be DOING IT for that to be the case.”

But really, I live with my parents.

Anyway, regarding my shaking, my doctor confirmed that it was benign essential tremors, which run in my family and we’d discussed before, but have been worse lately. (They’re not overly visible to anyone except me, but they’re driving me crazy.) Here she said that there aren’t a lot of good options until things get dramatically worse, but that some people have had success with CBD oil (which is derived from the cannabis plant and legal in all 50 states, Mom), so I could try that.

The only downside–it doesn’t get you high. That’s a joke. I’d be a terrible pot-head. First, I’m paranoid enough as it is. Second, pot gives you the munchies. I’m trying to LOSE weight over here, not GAIN IT.

Shit, now I’m thinking of pizza.

Otherwise, my doctor recommended a couple (more) supplements I could try and said to come back in six weeks. Feeling encouraged, I killed some time by reading a book then went to my appointment with the immunologist. I’ll get right to it–here’s what he said as he sat across from me scratching his head and poring over my numbers. “Everything looks great. I’m not sure that I’ve EVER seen anyone whose immune system responded AS WELL to being vaccinated as your did. It did exactly what it should have–and more.”

I’m quite sure I blushed. “Why, thank you. We do try.”

The immunologist went on to explain that my immune system really did look superior. “There’s nothing technically wrong,” he said, “although some people have systems that are predisposed to certain infections, which maybe yours is.” When he got up to leave he said, “On one hand, you can be proud that you have such a stellar immune system. On the other, you can be pissed off that we didn’t find anything we can fix.”

“Fabulous,” I said, “I’ll be sure to be both of those things–proud and pissed off–for at least the rest of the day.”

Leaving the immunologist’s office, I went shopping for the CBD oil and one of the supplements my primary care physician recommended. (So far I’ve taken one dose of the CBD oil, and my hands are still shaking. What the hell?) Next I had lunch with a friend, drove home, taught two dance lessons this evening, then went to Walmart to buy new pillows and thus begin The Great Dust Mite Removal of 2018. My bed sheets are drying as we speak, as are the new cotton underwear I bought, which my doctor said I should wear for the rash “to let things breathe.”

I said, “Cotton underwear don’t sound sexy at all.”

She replied, “Well since you’re not SHOWING THEM to anyone anyway, then it doesn’t matter WHAT they look like.”

Everyone’s a comedian.

My body is healthy and capable.

Now I’m trying to make sense of all that’s happened today. I think I’m mostly thrilled. It really is good news that my immune system is not only not-broken, but is probably better than yours (nanana boo boo). And having spent the last several months thinking that something was seriously wrong, I’d like to be clear–this is a huge relief. That being said, I HAVE had a lot of problems lately, and it’s frustrating that I still don’t have a concise answer as to why. Consequently, I’ve been going back and forth today. One minute I’ve been thinking, Maybe my body is a lot healthier and more capable than I’ve been giving it credit for. The next minute, What if all this shit just keeps going on forever–the doctors, the appointments? What if we never get it figured out? But mostly I’ve been thinking, What if I have to wear not-cute, old-man cotton underwear for the rest of my life? But seriously, I’m trying to trust that all these things will work themselves out, that my body still has a few healing tricks left up its sleeve, that we’re getting closer and closer to a resolution.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can rewrite our stories if we want to.

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Spring Is Coming (Blog #357)

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It’s five in the evening, the sun is shining, and welcome to The Daily Rash Report. (Thank you for joining us.) As many of you know, for the last week I’ve had a rash where no one wants a rash. Yesterday my dermatologist said he wanted to do a biopsy, so now as we speak a small piece of my scrotum is being shipped to Houston, Texas, to be analyzed in a lab by a complete stranger. My dermatologist said, “If you get a bill from Texas and think, I didn’t go to Texas–Well, part of you did.” (Everyone’s a comedian.)

Hopefully my scrotum is being mailed in a box marked “handle with care.”

I’m glad to say that the rash is much better today. The perfectionist in me would like to go on record as saying it’s not “completely better.” Like, if I stare at it long enough, I start to worry. That being said, the itching has significantly decreased. It’s not keeping me awake at night like before, and I was up for over two hours today before I even noticed it. Likewise, the redness and swelling have gone down. Again, it’s not a miracle, but I think we’re headed in the right direction. (Fingers crossed.) At the very least, I no longer want to cut my junk off with a kitchen knife, which–last week when things were at their worst–I briefly considered as a viable option.

So, thank you, Lord, that I no longer want to do that.

This morning I received an encouraging message from my dear friend, Sara. She said that her daughter used to struggle with skin issues and that after much frustration and many failed medical and alternative therapies, they ended up solving the problem with diet and probiotics. Considering that I’ve been gearing up to focus more on my diet lately and that my doctor already has me on (some) probiotics, it was the just nudge I needed. So this morning I cut out bread and coffee from breakfast, and this afternoon I ordered more probiotics on Amazon and picked up some Kombucha (a probiotic drink) from the health-food store.

For those who are interested, here’s a full list of what I’ve done or am doing in order to treat this rather-personal rash.

  • Washed and double-rinsed my sheets, towels, and all my clothes in “free and clear” detergent by ALL
  • Applying prescribed steroid cream (Triamcinolone) twice daily
  • Applying a probiotic mist my regular doctor suggested for other skin issues twice or three times daily (I can’t tell that it works, but I’ve already paid for the shit and might as well use it.)
  • Taking an Epson salt bath once a day (recommended online for eczema, etc.)
  • Sleeping or being naked as often as possible in order to “air out”
  • Cutting back or cutting out wheat, dairy, sugar, coffee, and alcohol (although I may have a beer tonight)
  • Drinking Turmeric or Dandelion tea instead of coffee (Turmeric is an anti-inflammatory, and Dandelion is a diuretic or “cleanser.”)
  • Increasing intake of flax-seed and fish oil (Again, these are anti-inflammatories and sources of Omega-3 fatty acids.)
  • Drinking Kombucha and taking daily probiotics

I realize this is a shotgun approach, but clearly something is already making a difference, so I’m going to keep everything up. Plus, I assume that the problem has had multiple contributing causes (overall decreased immunity, stress, diet, detergent/irritants), so it might as well have multiple contributing solutions. Either way, we’ll see what happens.

Now it’s six in the evening, the sun is still shining, and birds are even chirping. I can’t tell you how much hope I receive from the the simple fact that it’s not dark and cold outside, from just a little improvement in my environment and physical well-being. It truly is a shot in the arm. Earlier today my friend Sara said, “Spring is coming to EVERY area of your life!” I said, “I am naming and claiming that benediction.” But seriously, I hope she’s right. I really hope she’s right.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to go back before you can go forward.

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