As promised, I have things to update. I'll start with medical stuff, and finish with what's going on between Becky and myself. (Fear not, fans of the Happy Bor! Nothing terribly scary is going on between us.)
The visit to the surgeon was nothing spectacular, other than keeping Becky laughing non-stop. I see myself as having two choices when faced with something as terrifying as surgery. I can sit in a corner, shaking and crying, or I can crack numerous jokes and get everyone laughing and smiling. So I produced the humor for that visit, and Becky wasn't accustomed to such behavior at all.
There was a bothersome aspect of that appointment., in that they didn't seem to understand what was going on with my allergies. I have ONE known allergy, and that's it. Floroscein dye makes me toss my cookies in a rather violent manner. I gave this surgeon's office this information months ago, when I visited an associate of the surgeon and posted complaints about that particular jackass. (My new doctor is in the process of leaving the other practice, but still has access to my old data.) I was told years ago that the iodine in floroscein dye is what produces the vomiting, and I must have mentioned this while seeing the idiot. Thus, the idiot made a note that I was allergic to iodine. And when I said IV contrast for radiology tests wasn't a problem, he noted it as being an issue, thereby PROVING he was an idiot. All of this is frightening because it means a medical professional SOMEWHERE isn't doing his/her job. This is my life, and when they prove to me that they're screwing up, I get scared.
Equally as upsetting is that I am now relying upon my clinic to complete my pre-surgical testing BEFORE 9 June 2010. Before Becky arrived, I had a vicious case of "red toe." I call it that because I didn't know what else to call it. The second toe on my left foot was VERY red. There was no swelling. There was very little pain, if at all...but then that means little because I have diabetic neuropathy. The site also wasn't hot, which is usually a sign of infection. But being on my foot, there was reason for concern, and the people at my clinic seemed more than happy to see me...on 19 May. UNACCEPTABLE! If I have an actual problem, waiting over a week could well mean the difference between keeping and losing a toe. After making enough noise, I got in before Becky arrived.
But here I am, requiring clearance for surgery BEFORE a certain date, and I'm just a tad worried. Reasonably so, I'd say...Wouldn't you? And I need to have some tests done, so...Okay, Maybe I'm making more of this than necessary. I need a chest x-ray, and EKG, fasting blood work, a common blood panel, and a "clean catch" urine test. The idea that the clinic can get all of this done on time is worrisome. So I'm operating on quite a bit of faith right now. My pre-surgical screening...ummm..."begins" on 27 May 2010. Let's hope that two weeks are enough time to get everything done.
Okay...On to wound care, which was something of a disappointment. Disappointment on me, that is. There was a tiny piece of seemingly dead skin on top of my right foot. After a shower, when this piece of skin was nice and soft, I used tweezers to try to remove it...and ended up tearing off a nice chunk of skin. Brilliant. Truly brilliant. I immediately started treating it as I was taught, including a few days worth of antibiotics just to CMA. (That's not the "Country Music Awards;" it's "Cover My Ass.") I am to continue this care, and it will be checked next week.
The old wounds, however, have Gina overjoyed. She considers them healed. The goal is to protect them properly so that new layers of skin can complete their growth. I was instructed to use a kind of thick padding to prevent that growing skin from meeting with anything damaging.
As usual, it's a waiting game. Thankfully, I've been having good results with the new kind of care recently taught to me. So "wait and see" isn't nearly as scary as it's been in the past.
And now for stuff about Becky and I.
Yeah, the post title is panic-inspiring, but it doesn't refer to the status of my relationship with Becky. It's directed at the perspective we have on our search for that special someone to end the quest. Now that Becky and I have been spending quality time together, we have voiced several times the hope that each is the end of the search for ourselves. Although she's younger than me, she's tired of the pain that comes with the realization that a romantic blunder has been made. What makes it seem like the search is over is the fact that we see absolute perfection in the other.
Ah, but perspectives can change. And this is why I've been determined to hide nothing from Becky, as well as expose her to as much as possible during her visit here. For this reason, I had Gina show Becky what the ulcers looked like the day after I realized I had a problem. (Or have you all forgotten my post on 21 April 2010 entitled "Holy $#*%!!!"?) The ulcers were fairly large. They were thoroughly infected. And the swelling completely concealed the contours of my ankle. Seeing what the originally looked like was scary...and yet Becky remains unfazed. Oh, she was shocked at how bad they looked, but she has shown no desire to run.
That's been a radical change in my behavior. When she and I started this whole thing, I tried to unload every issue I had on her. If she was going to run, I really wanted her to do so early. I was trying to chase her away; it would be better for both of us if she would leave before we became too attached.
Now...? When I unveil my various medical horrors, I'm not chasing. I'm testing to make sure she WON'T run. I want Becky to stay...and stay...and stay.
Last night, despite how well things are going, I shed tears during a confession that falling in love was just so danged scary. I seem so confident, and relaxed, and fun-loving...but it's important that Becky also know exactly how vulnerable I am. It's rather easy to discuss past relationships with all the passion one would give a report on the weather. It's easy after a great deal of time has passed. Here and now, falling so long and hard for Becky, I felt she needed to see my naked emotions in that particular moment. I started to cry, which caused her to start shedding tears as well.
But is this officially the end of our respective searching? We want it to be. We say it with either great tenderness or great passion, depending on the moment it's said. If this is truly our great desire, why is it that neither of us is willing to put an end to it officially? Why is Becky heading back to PA as my girlfriend when she should be my fiancee if we want the quest to be over? We know it would be a long engagement if it happened, as I have various medical things to pursue immediately. I need surgery on both elbows, probably my right knee, and my oral woes. On her end, Becky wants to go to school to become a registered nurse. To become engaged would mean around three years before we officially tied the knot. Figure about a year for me to complete my pursuit of my medical stuff, while she spends two years going to school. That's a year of overlap, another year of her schooling, and then a year planning a wedding. Three years, total, as far as our estimates go.
So how is it that we somehow see becoming engaged as rushing?
The point is somewhat moot. Personally, until I could put a ring on her finger, it wouldn't be the real deal. Reality dictates that the ring won't be very big. But I would want a ring on her finger nonetheless. If we somehow manage to make this "insanely fast move," I imagine she'll shell out the money and I'll pay her back slowly over the next year.
We shall see. But...well, I wanted to share what's going on in my head with my friends. Some of you are around the globe, but you all mean something to me. Your feedback means something to me. While I may well repeatedly apologize for shoving this romance down your proverbial throats, know that my internet friends are no less important to me that those who might exist in the "real" world.
Be well, all.