The sky is hazy.
It’s actually been hazy for a few days, but I never but two and two together. In fact just the other morning I was thinking about how the sunrise was strangely beautiful through the fog. Only--surprise, it’s not fog, it’s smoke that’s coming down from Napa where fires are literally raging out of control and we can’t seem to do anything about it.
Today one of my co-workers mentioned, in all seriousness, that some of us should consider getting masks. The smoke that we’re breathing in that’s coming down the coast is toxic. It’s housing burning to ash.
And listen, I’m not trying to make this a competition. Me breathing in the smoke of these fires is literally nothing compared to all of the people who’ve had to flee their homes from the rapid onset of fires that they just cannot stop from spreading. It’s just crazy to me.
Back in Maryland, the concept of California wildfires were just that--a concept. I’d never been able to actually understand them. West coast fires just remained this thing.
That was it. It was just a thing that you knew about the west. There were fires.
But being here? Looking at the strangely beautiful orange light that filters through the windows at 1pm because the way the smoke changes the air? Walking down the street and actually smelling something burning? It’s insane.
I was supposed to go on a retreat with a local church this weekend that was cancelled because of these fires. Like--just, damn. That’s really all of the words I can muster up for this. Damn.
How the hell is this still happening? You hear about climate change (and boy howdy I could rant about climate change for a while, especially seeing as I did my senior project on sustainable living and the way it affects the environment (but we’ll hold off on that for now)) and you can see things happening but still, still, it’s insane to be experiencing this. Even the fact that these fires are 50-60 miles away, an hour by car, across a bridge and a bit of ocean, this is the world that we’re living in because we’ve been treating our planet like shit for way too long.
(When I was working on my senior project, I asked the girl who sat next to me if she believed in climate change. Her answer was, and I quote, “You know, I don’t know!”)
Lately it feels like there’s nothing but bad news. Natural disaster after traumatic event after political update after natural disaster after traumatic event after political update on repeat forever and ever. Humans are just not meant to absorb this much negativity. We just aren’t.
We’ll get stomach ulcers.
Which brings me to my next point!
I (probably) have a stomach ulcer.
Am I going to blame the state of the world for my stomach ulcer? Um, yes. At least a little. Does it also have to do with the fact that every time I take ibuprofen I pop 4 of them into my mouth and hope for the best? Absolutely! But like--just once I would like to wake up and not immediately hear about a new form of suffering that has emerged.
It just goes on and on and on and on and forever and ever and I always told myself I’d be one of those people to get away from the internet when the world started falling apart, but I can’t. It’s like I need to know. Who am I if I’m not informed?
But, anyway, stomach ulcer.
I woke up Thursday night (Friday morning) at like, 3am in one of the worst pains I’ve ever experienced in my life. (The worst pain would be that time I had a kidney stone where I literally laid on the ground of the Towson mall parking garage trying not to puke.) Everything is worse at 3am. If I was to be in pain at like, 11am, there’s sunlight and conversation and people all around that can convince you that you’re not dying.
At 3am, you think you’re dying.
I literally ended up on various websites reading “first hand accounts of heart attacks written by women”, FULLY CONVINCED that I was having a heart attack. This is one of those times that my hand time zone difference came in handy, because while it was now 3:30, my mom was awake!
Yay moms who can’t sleep in!
She convinced me that I wasn’t dying, which was actually a very good feat, and I managed to climb back in bed. After popping more ibuprofen. Like an idiot. I’m not dependent, but my motto has always been “well it hasn’t killed me yet!”
Well… it hasn’t killed me yet!
Thankfully my boss is literally one of the coolest humans on the entire planet (she recently adopted a teenage cat that survived one of the various hurricanes (see: the world is a mess, stated above) named Slipper and sometimes sends me videos of him) and really didn’t mind that I decided going into work would be a bad idea. I told myself if I was still in Weird Unnamed Pain by 10:30, I’d go to some form of emergency room.
I passed out (thanks ibuprofen, both evil and wonderful all at once) and didn’t wake up until the pain kicked back in around 11, so, yeah. Some form of emergency room was my next step.
I went to a Direct Urgent Care.
Google tells me that the definition of URGENT is “(of a state or situation) requiring immediate action or attention.” Please, then, tell me why I waited FOR TWO HOURS to see a doctor.
TWO HOURS.
“They were probably busy,” you’re thinking, and I’m here to tell you--thEY WEREN’T. I had to make? An appointment? At this urgent care? What kind of California bullsh--
The worst part about being in pain and not knowing what it is, is the not knowing what it is. Part of me was still convinced I was having a heart attack. Not knowing what the hell is going on with your body is just… scary. Humans are really tough sometimes, but literally one thing could happen and you could DIE. In a SECOND. That’s scary.
The second worst part about being in pain is when you have no one to sit with you.
My roommates were all really great. I kept them updated via our groupme chat and a few of them texted me individually to really make sure I was okay. One of them offered to go to the store and get me whatever it was I needed, checking in every few hours to see how I was feeling. Even my boss kept texting me, wondering if I’d seen someone yet, frustrated for me that I hadn’t seen someone yet, reminding me that everyone at work was thinking of me. So it’s not that I didn’t feel loved and supported.
It’s just, I was pretty alone. You’re never more homesick than when you’re sad and in pain sitting in an urgent care that isn’t actually urgent.
(Also, side note, that receptionist was so mean to me. Ma’am, I was in pain. Can you not.)
I got to see a doctor (after two freaking hours) and explain my pain before she diagnosed me with a (probable) stomach ulcer. To be diagnosed with a real stomach ulcer you have to go to the hospital and they have to stick a camera down your throat so they can see it with their eyeballs. Which like, hard pass on that.
They gave me antibiotics to help it pass and had this great tip of advice for me.
“You’ll know if your ulcer bursts because you’ll be in excruciating pain. Definitely go to the hospital then.”
Thanks Direct Urgent Care!
It’s been nearly a week since I’ve started my meds so I feel okay. My co-workers are very quick to remind me that I should not be eating as much chocolate as I am--or that I should really not be drinking that much coffee--or that vegetables really are good for me. Which is good, and also true.
But, like, in this awful world (again, see above) no way in hell am I going to give up my coffee.
We’re here for a good time, folks, not a long time. Drink your coffee.
Along with like, all of the above, life still goes on. Yesterday was World Mental Health Day, and today is National Coming Out Day. I could make individual posts on both of those as well. On World Mental Health Day I spent a lot of time reflecting on where I was a few years ago, the push I made on my end to get the help I needed, and where I am today. Same with National Coming Out Day. But, like, I talk about being a bisexual enough for me to not ramble on about it more.
(Regarding both, dear readers, you know yourself the best. Trust yourself and do what you need to do, whenever you're ready.)
In the end, I’m okay. The world is still (literally) burning, and every day feels like a punch in the face, but I’m okay.
I read a tweet today that was really helpful for me. Ha, ha, millennials and their Twitter, but like, seriously.
Take care of yourselves, friends. We're stronger together.
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