The day after I wrote last, they put me in the hospital for a couple of hours to insert what is called a pic line. That's pretty much an internal IV. The whole process was something out of a science fiction horror movie. They had to tie my arm down so it would stay still. And it really hurt, because for some reason, they did not use any pain medicine. And there was the usual talking down to. But I made it through, even though they didn't seem to believe me that I needed something like Imodium for a usual serious side effect that occurs whenever I am on hard-core antibiotics. Oh no, that's mild, sweetie, they said.
The next day, they hooked me up at home to a portable IV pump and a medicine called Zosen flowing every six hours for a week due to a raging bladder infection I probably brought with me even all the way from the nursing home. I could sit up in my wheelchair when I felt able to do so, but for the safety of myself and those around me, I wasn't allowed to leave the house. The day after that, the "mild" side effects started, with of course no medication because I can't even take over-the-counter stuff here unless I'm cleared by a doctor and my doctor was out of town still on a family emergency. I stayed in bed a lot, and avoided writing here because there was not much good to report.
Exactly a week later, a couple of days ago, they came to remove the antibiotics, but informed me that they would collect some samples for testing to see if the infection has cleared, and if not, the antibiotics will come back for another week. I was frustrated, but I figured I'd have at least a couple days to be free and out and about before I got tethered again. Because they did the test yesterday, and we will not know the results until tomorrow or the next day. But, no. Whoever is in control of all this must be laughing at me. Because the side effects did not stop after the antibiotics, and actually got even worse. We couldn't figure out why until another resident here came down with the same symptoms. Some sort of stomach bug. And it's still continuing, whether or not it's from side effects or the bug, no one can tell anymore. And, although I'm no professional, by the looks of it taken samples, I will have to go back onto the antibiotics in a couple of days. The infection appeared to clear up while I was on them, but as soon as I came off, not so clear.
So I'm really trying not to feel sorry for myself, but it's getting very hard. I haven't been out of the house or in street clothes this whole month, and barely out of my room. The side effects still continue even with medication to prevent them, finally, and without the antibiotics for now. I don't understand any of this, and I am done. It's somebody else's turn for a change. And if one more well-meaning person tries to tell me about the Bible character of Job or how this is all part of God's will, I'm not sure what will happen, but it won't be good. I forget what my friends look like, what any kind of good drink tastes like, what fresh air feels like.
If there is any good to come out of this, I guess it would be that I've had more time to escape to virtual worlds. Since I can't go out, I hit virtual clubs almost every night inside Second Life, with some pretty awesome DJs, and people that really feel like they care, and might become real life friends if I ever got the chance to meet them.
With my friend Max, I have restarted my character in a game called Toontown, a game modeled after its namesake in the old movie who framed Roger rabbit?. You have to make evil robots self-destruct by laughing too hard at these jokes you throw at them, called gags. It was originally marketed for a younger audience, but is pretty challenging for big kids too. Unfortunately, when I restarted my account, I also had to restart my character all over for some reason. She was a level 63 or something. Having to start at the beginning again is like a 16. It's not as much fun to run through the repetition of earlier levels by myself, and I haven't gotten to connect with Max's character very much due to my illness and both of us just never being at our computers at the same time. But Rainbow, my little purple monkey, will be there waiting whenever we are ready.
Lastly, for the games, I finally went and did it. I caved and bought into the renown of the phenomenon known as World of Warcraft. This is mostly because it is now cheaper and possible to legally download the whole game to your computer after buying it instead of having to use CDs. Also, one of my uncles has been dying to find a game he can play with me. And he kept telling me that if I became a hunter it would be easier because at level 10, you get a pet who can help you fight the bad guys. Also apparently, there is a little less button hitting. I was skeptical because I've never found a hugely popular game, an online one anyway, that I can play with any success at all. But I decided to try anyway.
So I'm now a hunter in a race called the blood elves in a group called the horde, which I gather are neither good or bad in the epic fight against good and evil. They are the neutral ones who are now caught up with fighting just to stay alive. And I'm proud to say that Luna, who decided to port herself over from second life :-), is now a level 5. Not bad for a disabled person playing for what amounts to be three days. Last night, I got to run with my uncle and cousin, and am now part of their family guild. It was definitely easier working with them. But they kept looting the bad guys they killed for me, when I'm the one that needed the items to complete my quests. So now I have to do two or three of them all over again. Oh well. What else have I got to do right now, right?
I'm really tired and frustrated by all this. But I'm also tired of being tired and frustrated, so it's an endless loop. I can spend my time wondering why all this is happening to me, or I can try to go online and pretend that it's not. Some days, it's one or the other. On days like today, I'm conflicted, because I feel the need to do both. I figured writing here would help me feel better about the whole thing.
It hasn't really. I have this huge struggle about how small and/or limited my life has become since I was able to move out of my parents house almost 8 years ago. I was so proud of myself. And now here I am. Just as limited, if not more so, as I was under their roof. It angers and scares me, but I guess I have to be resigned to it. Because although I want a different path, this is my path for now. This is my journey. And I am. Whether I am Amber feeling deathly sick some days, or Rainbow Preciousmonkey, or Luna Sojourner, the virtual club girl, or Lunasojourn, the fierce Blood Elf Hunter, I am.
I am. Smiles sweetly at Pony.
I exist and always will in some form.
And somehow that's comforting.
Hey, on some days, you just have to take what you can get.