Friday, November 20, 2009

can i get some retraining, please?

and december 10 draws closer. and i'm IGNORING the fact that it is coming. but damn sure it is.

and yesterday my phone rang & it was the pulmonary department? with a*** hospital? and is this meesus coe-lette? or something like that. my inner korean accent phonetic speller thing isn't working tonight.

and yes, it was mrs. collette.

oh and mrs. collette? your dr. referred you to us? because your chest xray? he didn't like what he saw.

um. 2#%#$^%$^#W$R?

well, yes. and we would like you to come see us tomorrow at 9:40. can you do that?

well, let me call my husband (and figure out how i'm going to rearrange yet another school day & should i leave all 3 kids here or just 2 or maybe they should all come & bring their school books but then if this is sad news i'll probably want the 1 1/2 hour trip home to compose myself and did i say @#%$@&#%^$?)

and so i called him & called them back. and then spent the rest of the day stewing in what, exactly, THIS meant. and then spent 1 1/2 hours in the car (to be fair, some of it included me sleeping) with one and littlest who were coughing their heads off. funny how I'M the one with the pulmonary clinic appointment, isn't it?

and then the hospital that might become a second home or something. or maybe at the least i should get reduced train fare/road tolls since i seem to spend a lot of time there (we won't even talk about the referral i got for littlest today for pulmonary function tests because the God-blessed coughing is back AGAIN). and a different escort & a different department & nurses who loved littlest & gave her cookies & a tangerine & a yogurt drink with a straw. and she said "kam-sa-ham-nee-da" and they all melted into little puddles all over the floor. and then a dr. who asked 40-11 questions & listened to parts of my chest i didn't know i had and then peered at xrays & said...

the xray tech saw nodules (i HATE that word now, thank-you-very-much) & didn't know what they were. but your lung sounds are good & i think that probably they are just some sort of scar tissue probably from a previous infection? so i think you are cleared for surgery. and do you have any questions?

and one and i took a deep breath & littlest asked for another cookie & then we bought a coffee & then we came home.

and, hey, a*** byeong-won? maybe you could tell your people to NOT scare the hell out of people when they call them? a simple "could you please come back for more surgical pre-screening stuff chuseyo" would have sufficed & i damn sure wouldn't have worn a hole in my belly thinking about it for 24 hours.

and if someone reading this translates korean, please let me know. i'm gonna "accidentally" drop this when i go BACK to suwon in 20 days. 20 days people. how's another 3 ulcers sound?

Sunday, November 1, 2009

i think i'm tired of this place. tired of restrictions. tired of appliances i can't read instructions for. tired of not being able to buy what i need when i need it. (a hook & eye latch or whatever you call them for our laundry room & bathroom doors...a glue gun with glue sticks...because for some reason, the PX sells the gun...2 whole racks of them! but are completely out of the 1 rack allocated to the sticks. perhaps i'm expected to just slaughter my own horse. if i could even find one in this damn country). tired of not being able to understand the language...this might be a problem come december 10th when the international services department doesn't open until 1 1/2 hours after i have to be there. tired of feeling out of place because me or my spouse is not one of the few, the proud...wait...that's the marines...but i think you get the point. who knew that in a room full to bursting with people, you could feel so damn alone?

i'm tired of feeling like i don't meet expectations. like i'm not the BEST homeschooler since i'm contemplating quitting it with biggest & middlest. like i'm not the BEST christian because sometimes i'd rather go out on the town rather than stay in. like i'm not the BEST mom because i lose my temper on occasion. like i'm not the BEST wife...for reasons i won't go into.

i struggle with this everyday because i feel like there's a mask i need to wear. a different one for different people. and one day i'm going to get mixed up & put the wrong mask on at the wrong time & the whole damn circus tent is going to fall down over my head, leaving me wrapped in red & white striped canvas, arms flailing for an escape, serving only to wrap me tighter in the trap of my own making, all the while wondering if i REALLY want to make my escape because then i'll have to meet the accusing eyes of the people who came to see one version of cirque de soleil but ended up with an offshoot & now they want a refund.

i think, right now, i just want to go home. not this home away from home where, at the rate we're going, i may be until i die. or lose my ever-loving-fucking mind. home. where i'm from. where my family is. where my friends are. where i speak the language. and there are no masks.