this is how shitty I feel

How do you answer a question like, How are you? in a public space or within the little time most people have, when you face a debilitating unending situation? This is what it looks like when I choose to face the awkwardness, the ostracization that might and/or have followed.

∞ ∞ ∞

And to all of you who wonder where am I hiding lately …

– I haven’t seen you for a while, how do you feel?
– … hum … shitty, really shitty …
– I am sorry, what happen?
– Since last autumn? I had 3 episodes of bronchitis, one in November, one in January and the third one lasted until the end of March, but in February, my ulcerous colitis, which had been under control for the last few months, resurfaced, as if I hadn’t enough on my plate. The bleeding, the diarrhea, the incapacity to digest whatever I am eating, there is, what?, 10 different foods, at the most that I can eat, and an overwhelming number of supplements. The bleeding brought me down to my knees, keeping me on the verge of anemia, not formally according to the medical system, just enough to feel exhausted after any effort, and by an effort I mean cooking, doing my laundry, grocery shopping, washing my hair. This fucking colitis is so shitty. Literally. Shitty. There are times where I cannot leave wherever I am for 45 minutes after a meal, I have to run to the bathroom and empty myself as if I have swallowed in one mouthful a 7 course meal, and even after such a precaution, there are times when I cannot hold myself, can you believe it, I shat in my pants?, and let me tell you it was not because I didn’t know every public bathroom around. The last time it happened, I was with my granddaughter in a grocery store, she loves to taste everything free in display, the man doing the demonstration asked me if I also wanted to try one of their sausages, why not?, I will give it to her since there is no way I can eat these things, but he took it as an invitation to describe in details what it was made of, how delicious it was, while I already knew I should have started looking for the bathroom a while ago, which I did, but too late. Fuck, I am aging but not to the point of wearing diapers, not yet, I am so pissed-off, it has been like this for the last 2 years, even though I started to ask doctors to look into it 7 years ago, 7 years ago, and now after trying all their medications and suffered, each time, from huge side effects, they have nothing else to offer me? Desperate, after trying everything or almost, I recently saw an 79 year old Asian woman health practitioner, who told me explicitly with words and a drawing, how my colitis was caused by an overly upset nervous system, which was difficult to argue with since I have to deal, on a daily basis, with 2 other chronic diseases for the last 25 years and their heavy toll like the fucking gargantuan medical expenses, the lack of money, no wonder when you cannot work, and the isolation, among other things. But on top of this shitty ordeal, last September, my brother jumped over a cliff, and until this day, his body has never been found.

And this is the short version … so you know.

Ah! yes, something else. I have started writing about it, poetizing and prosing extensively about it, and let me tell you, it was about time, it makes me feel so good. So fucking good!!!