(re)flections

listening to the diagnosis was shocking. unbelievable. when the prognosis was delivered – as a matter of fact – it fell on deaf ears. my mind had shifted gears midway through prognosis to denial. i didn’t need to listen and understand the prognosis. i’ve witnessed it first hand as a young girl. it happened to a friend who was just a year younger, and i know exactly how it wrecked her life … until she redeemed herself as God’s child.

. . . . . . . .


the entire day was spent cracking silly jokes about it. sometimes dry sarcasm. the topic seems to slip into every conversation effortlessly and yet never developing further as a topic of discussion. no one dwelled into it. not even for a split second.

the news was ‘broken’ to others by me – as a matter of fact. maybe news like this is meant to be delivered as a matter of fact. i dunno. i dropped out of med school before i even made it to the physical structure. let alone attend the course on patient management; i.e. delivering matter of fact news.

maybe it hasn’t sunk in. maybe cope mechanism had kicked in (subconsciously). i am one person who broke free from being trapped in a sedan car reduced to a coupe in a matter of split seconds in what i would term “instant modification” [read: accident] without batting an eyelid or shedding a tear. and not only that, i placed 4 phones calls in the following sequence on my mobile and purse i successfully retrieved from the wreckage: the ex-boyfriend (lawyer) to convey incident, car registration and model. mechanic for toll truck services. mom. insurance agent. then, i spent the night fending off toll truck “sharks” and biting my tongue to prevent myself from yelling at the nonchalant, inefficient policemen.

so, that’s a quick snapshot of how i operate under severe conditions. how my clock ticks.

but in this case, honestly, deep down i know it is denial. i am most afraid to be alone. my worse enemy has been the commute over the last 48 hours. there’s just me and my mind.

my fleeting thoughts – thanks to the occasional over zealous mind – have led me into a panicky frame of mind. as if it is second nature, this translates to “to do lists”. “must accomplish lists”. “must not forget lists”. list. list. list. LIST!

thoughts are punctuated with suicide plans. gun. GLOCK. no. trigger is too tight and too much recall. maybe my favourite – SMITH. 0.22. no. i’ll need to pump it a few times. i’ll lose my guts. i am serious. about the guts at least.

then, pragmatism takes over with a stern inner voice “Don’t be an idiot, Penny!”
more planning – for the …err … let’s keep it silence for the moment.

sadness creeps in. then the mother of all destruction: self pity.
i am sure i am not alone in this; strong exterior but screaming and crying internally.

swinging back up – sort of, HOPE takes over. maybe the diagnosis was wrong. i mean, anyone who delivers devastating news in a matter of factly matter must be a bozo. right? medical degrees can be bought. what does he know anyways? he’s just another human being. not GOD. i’ll google it later and seek a 2nd or even 3rd opinion. better be safe than sorry.

you know, suddenly the sick jokes and smart arse talk about the benefits of being able to project’s one’s time with my financial planner (whom i am absolutely fond of) is not so funny any more. leaves you with a bitter taste in the mouth. nauseating feeling in the pit of the stomach.

every word, every movement, every action plan seems like a replay of life. did i have a premonition? did my being in another dimension (perhaps) knew something i didn’t? or is there really a GOD? and does GOD work in mysterious ways?

who’s to know. more so for faithless me.
at this moment everything seems confusing. everything is a blur.
.
.

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