Thursday, July 3, 2014

A conflict that demands your choice

I wish I could have just a good-old-fashioned talk with Alan, B-san, the balloon that is my bladder. (Certainly anyone following the news recently has wanted to have a "Really, dude? Really?" conversation with all sorts of people...)

A recent Big-Time anti-smoking campaign, in heavy rotation on Adult Swim and as you might imagine is aimed at teens, features a young lady quoting someone unnamed (but which is eventually revealed as a cigarette) saying "Outside! NOW! (she protests, the "someone" repeats...) Outside! NOW!" and this unnamed entity is described as "so needy..."

Alan has also been needy, recently. He doesn't call for going outside, he calls for a cath. "I want to be emptied! NOW!"

Well, that is his job after all, but there's not-even-vaguely-full, definitely-full, and surprisingly-full, as revealed by the cath process itself. Alan tends in recent days to scream really loudly about having a desperate need to be emptied, but at the end, what gets cath'ed out fits into the category of "I think the bladder doth protest too much," to paraphrase Shakespeare.

If I'm chugging down the oolong, a lot goes in and a lot comes out. That, I can deal with, easily. When Alan is full to a certain point, he is definitely psyched to "enjoy the spaghetti" (one of his favorite foods on his cartoon series) and let the fur fly, as it were.

Issue is, after screaming desperately, he might very well show little to no interest in "enjoying the spaghetti" (getting the cath even to, much less through, the "prosgate," as I phrase it), but still screams about being ready to be emptied.

And so needy, as the commercial describes it.

A pause... Alan desperately demanded attention, but thanks to the charming diuretic nature of the morning's oolong, this was the opposite of a false alarm. A very worthwhile event, definitely "worth the trouble."

You take what satisfaction you can, eh?

Piled on top of that, I have been hoping to do some music stuff, for a change I actually have workable ideas, but my right hand appears to be going on strike. A "sorry, but I can't do shit" strike. I try simply to grasp and hold something, and my hand feels like it fails utterly and horribly and heartrendingly, but when observed impartially, it's merely out of control and completely insensitive. Which isn't "failing," officially, but I find it utterly disheartening; it's so hard to take, even my normally very creatively colorful profanity fails me.

Yeah, in the picture Finn is holding the sword, but if it had been me, by now it would have been just dangling.

I supposed I should "try" to keep going, but I'm definitely on the edge of giving up. Finish here with you, look into one other thing, at least set up starting to write the music, but... I think, hard as it may be, it may be important to try then actually fail rather than just giving up.

And a second after making that decision, my right hand, with which I had been sorta-kinda typing at least a few letters here and there, pretty much just failed. It does, push individual keys, which is what "typing" is all about, it just slid into incoherent mashing. Which my left hand is close to, but thank God isn't nearly as bad. Today... as for tomorrow, who can say?

So, try and fail, or just fail and be done with it? As Glorshon Wars said frequently, a conflict that demands your (my!) choice.

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