Posts Tagged ‘ lady ’

Venus Has The ‘Roofies’

Monday, March 9th, 2009

When I disappear from the blog for awhile, you know something is going on, don’t you.

Well, yes it is. I have ‘The Roofies.’

Let me explain. When I was a kid I had chicken pox.  When this happens, later in life, the virus known as herpes zoster, can flare up and cause an exceedingly painful condition called shingles. That’s what I have. Shingles.

It’s been agonizing, with my skin burning like it’s on fire, a deep aching pain in my upper right back and right arm and part of my chest and my mind in figurative shreds. I have sat and cried with the pain. I am slowly getting better but at the height of it, I was doing odd things.

I try and tell people what is wrong with me and I say things like, “I have Syphilis. No, no,wait,  I mean I have shingles!”

Or, I say, “I have Sphincter. No wait, that’s not right!”

Or, I whine,  “I have The Spindles!”

People are amazed and transfixed by my revelations.

I keep thinking, ‘What is the matter with my mind?’ My brother in law, Dr. Ron, says I can’t remember the word because I am in deep denial. Maybe so. I think maybe it is the pain and maybe the anti-viral drug that has loosened up all my mental strings.

Finally, I think, ‘I have to remember the right word for this. I must, I must.’

I get a bright idea. I think of the shingles on a roof! Clever, don’t you think? I say over and over to myself, ‘Think of roof, roof, roof.’

Now I find myself announcing, “I have The Roofies!”

After about a week and a half I drag myself to the grocery store. I grab a cart and meander slowly up and down the isles collecting things.  30 minutes later, an older lady grabs my basket, shakes it then leans into and starts digging through my groceries. I am a bit amazed.

The woman says, “Someone stole my basket! I’ve looked in every basket in this damn store and YOU are the one who stole my basket!”

My head bobbles on the stalk of my neck as I lean forward and look into the basket. Umm. I do see a few things that I didn’t put there. Oh my gosh. It’s not my basket.

The woman is trying to be pleasant but she is filled with righteous anger and yellow pissiness. I figure she has probably been searching stranger’s baskets for at least 20 minutes.

I say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I almost say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please forgive me, I have syphilis.” I bet ya’ she would have run off if I had said that and left me with the basket!

But, I don’t say it and the woman makes me pull all my groceries out of the cart and I have to pile them high up in my arms where they slip and slide. There is a mighty weight of them weighing on my painful arm.

I sneak off to search for my basket and indeed, I too must traverse almost every isle before I find it. It sits alone looking embarrassed for me. Thank goodness no one has run off with it.

I belong at home until this pimpled, burning weirdness passes and I can than go out in public where I won’t embarrass myself by stealing things or telling people I have syphilis.

(Please, my friends, I beg you, don’t tell me any horrid shingles stories. People feel it’s their duty to tell these to me and it makes me crazy. Never tell a sick person bad news! My sister in law tells me that people actually say things to her and my brother Art who has had the acute leukemia, things like ‘Oh, my aunt had that and she died!’ ………..Remember it’s a far better and happier job to uplift people than to slam them down. Always scatter Good Wishes wherever you go.)

Thanks for listening to my ‘woeful’, but passing, tale!!



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