Re:BUBBA..The Bubba Files (Episode 153): A Whole Lotta Nuttin' Goin'

[Guest guest]

BUBBA... GLAD YOU'RE SLEEPIN BETTER, HON !! THANKS FOR SHARIN ALL THAT

!!! WOULD SAY I MISSED YA, BUT AM JUST GETTIN STARTED ON THE NEWER MSGS,

SO STILL WAS READIN YOURS FROM THE 25TH !! 8^)

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Hello everyone . . . I am resurfacing somewhat after yet another few

days away from being online very much. I was posting a catch-up

message on the AOL CFIDS Boards I am a regular on, and thought I'd pass

along the tripe that came out of that sitting around to others as well.

Just to let you know what I've been up to. Or not. I am not editing

the content for these mailing lists or individuals, so if something

doesn't make sense, it's probably because it relates to the AOL boards.

Usually, I post my recycled messages from HERE to the boards, so I

thought I would reverse the trend today. <laughing>

SPECIAL MESSAGE TO SCOTT: HEY BUDDY . . . PLEASE CALL ME IF YOUR

DESPERATION FOR A PLACE RIGHT AWAY MEANS YOU WOULD CONSIDER FLORIDA. DON'T

KNOW HOW THAT WOULD WORK WITH YOUR SITUATION INVOLVING THE ATTORNEY, BUT

CALL ME AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT. I'D DO MY BEST TO TRY TO WORK OUT WHAT

YOU NEED IF YOU LIKE.

Hope you are all well. Thanks for the support and friendship I feel

from all of you.

Hugs,

Allan ++ Bubba Swami

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QUOTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS:

To my friends and family on these wonderful boards . . .

Since traffic has been a bit lighter of late, I thought I'd post a short

Bubba-fied greeting to all my lifelines here and about.

First of all, I'm so proud to see some of the regs who have been absent

(at least in my recollection, which could be far wrong <smile>) are

back -- to all of you (esp. Marta, but I'm not naming others because

I'd surely forget one or fifty) I say I missed you like crazy, and I am

so glad that you are back.

Lea and Tess, thanks to you two for being especially present and

supportive lately.

Pix . . . I am so sorry to hear about your recent trip to the ER (it was

the ER, wasn't it, dear?), and hope that your headaches get better.

(I'm doing this from memory, so if I miss someone I've read about who's

going through something, it's not that I didn't see or don't care . . .

just fogged out -- can't you hear the horn???)

The Swami dude has enjoyed two weekends in a row of positive interaction

with the Papa-Swami and Mommy-Swami. It has been healing even more

than I thought it would.

When my Daddy was crying his heart out while listening to the journal

entries I was sharing with him, it touched the Little Bubba part of me

like you wouldn't believe. For a moment, I did become that little boy

feeling comfort once again in my father's strength, and humanity. I

can't describe the exact part of me that was touched by that moment,

but it made me feel closer to Papa-Swami than I've ever felt in my

whole life. (Damn, that reminds me -- I've gotta tell him so!)

Mommy-Swami surprised me with the grace and compassion she showed to

Bubba when he let loose his anger and frustration loose on her. We

were going to a movie on Saturday, and I was crashing fast, wondering

what in the hell I was even doing there. We were heading to the

theater through the lobby, and I told my mom to just find a place once

we were in there, and it would be fine. I just needed to sit down --

before I fell down. Well, we start into the theater, and she just

stops. " Where do you want to sit? " she asks. I was feeling so badly,

I couldn't even respond right away . . . and I was pissed off at her

too for stopping and asking me some question that was too overwhelming

for me right then -- especially after having tried to prevent such a

thing. When I didn't respond right away, she thought it was because of

the darkness of the theater (a normal thought, right?), and she said,

" What's wrong, Allan? Can't you see? " I snapped. I just screamed,

" JESUS, LET'S JUST SIT DOWN!!!!! " I staggered ahead of her not caring

a damn if we sat where she wanted. I found the first row we came to,

and collapsed into the seat.

It grieved me right away, cut me to the quick, that I had let loose with

disrespect to this woman who only was concerned about her boy. God, I

hated myself that second.

I apologized profusely, my mom graciously accepted, said she understood

(God, what a woman! Thank you God for my mom!), and we enjoyed the

rest of our visit. Of course, for me, emotionally, it was invested

with the regret of that moment, and the backdrop of what I had said

continued to haunt me.

One other thing I discovered from my mom when we were talking at one

point: she is keeping her own journal of her own thoughts, reactions,

and emotions relating to my struggle with CFIDS. That meant the world

to me, as one who rather presumptiously considers himself a journalist

(not in the sense of news reporting; in the sense of being a diarist)

and " writer " . (Give me a f-ing break! Who else but a MOM would look at

the stuff you've dragged out over the weekend from Jr. High to find

stuff to send to your mentor [hi Jen!] and laugh anyway?) She told me

she was also going to watch the video I Remember Me again now that

she's seen me with a full-blown CFIDS episode for the first time.

Anyway, after Mommy-Swami left early Monday morning, Char and I enjoyed

a most spectacular and memorable day together. It was the stuff dreams

are made of, and I will treasure it always. It was the first time

since having this current episode we were able to enjoy certain things,

and it was heavenly. <big ole coon grin>

Then, Monday evening, the press of things to do around the house took

their toll on Mrs. Swami, and she began the grueling process of trying

to bring some order to the chaos she perceived. I was sitting in front

of the computer in my usual stupor, looking at the screen but not

registering much of what was there.

At one point, Char asked me (with that tone that says it's more than a

normal question one asks for information): " Do you EVER just look

around and notice things that need to be done? Do you EVER go into the

kitchen to get something, and see that there are dishes that need to be

done? "

I just turned around and stared at her, deer in the headlights of the

car she driving straight for my heart. I didn't know what to say.

She went on to explain that she knew I felt badly, and sure didn't want

me doing things when I felt crappy, but didn't I sometimes -- just

sometimes - -- feel like doing something??

Now, a bit of context here -- The Swami dude has never been very

concerned about things you might call " house maintenance or

housekeeping " . . . it just doesn't appear on my radar screen. Not

that I like filth, or can stand things past a certain point . . . but I

can be comfy with a lot less than my lovely Char. <sigh> If things

passed under the Swami's radar before CFIDS, how much NOW,

afterward???? That's not an excuse, just reality sometimes.

But she was right . . . sometimes I did feel like doing SOMETHING, even

if it was small. I just didn't do it, or think to do it. Yes, I COULD

walk into the kitchen, see the dishes, and have it NEVER register at

all. But, hell, I thought in guilt, if I can sit in front of that

damned computer screen, I can damn sure as hell wash a few dishes.

Anyway, we were both too tired to fight, and it ended pretty quickly.

But the Perfect Day was marred by our human frailty once again. A

reminder that even for one day, we could not pretend to be untouched,

unfazed by the awful reality we have been thrust into so unmercilessly.

So I woke up yesterday (Tuesday morning) full of rage, anger,

resentment, self-pity, depression, angst, and major guilt. And then I

came on these boards. Hey there are a bunch of new posts, I thought.

Maybe Marta's posting again!!! Can't wait to read and see how she's

doing! Then I open the first board, only to see 15 messages by this

stupid Elle-whoever-the-hell it was about some magic cure,

just-e-mail-me-and-I'll-tell-you-all-about-it stupidity. So all that

anger, depression, rage, self-pity, et alia, poured out on these boards.

<sigh>

Not that I would take back the sense of what I said, but I would recant

some of the tone I used. Maybe such a tone was justified, but as Marta

gently told me (thank you, once again, for a breath of fresh sanity,

dear), we just don't enough time to waste (dammit) on things that just

really aren't that important . . . hell, I don't have enough energy to

give to the things that are important, much less mess with some booger

on a message board somewhere.

Anyway, to cut the already-too-long ramble a bit shorter . . . when Char

returned from her morning out with her own mom yesterday, all my

anger/rage/depression had dissipated, and we enjoyed a very good day

together. We were both just caught in one corner of the web of this

damn disease at the same time, and fought each other instead of the

disease.

Funny thing: last night, I did something (forget what it was, not

important), and my wife thanked me. I said, " It's my guilty pleasure,

my dear, " with a huge flourish and bow. She asked what that meant. I

told her it was my pleasure to help (it really was, and is), and that

if I didn't I'd feel guilty.

We both laughed.

One more thing, since I'm updating you about every little nook and

cranny: I'm up to 3 Trazedone at night with no discernible ill effects,

and I've slept through the night both nights I've been on that doseage.

Still not rested, still no headache relief, still have all my other

" gifts " of CFIDS, but do you realize how EMOTIONALLY healing it is just

to wake up and it's 6:30 instead of 1:30 in the morning???? Damn, I

almost feel good about that.

Love you guys . . . thanks for being my lifeline and link to whatever

little bit of sanity I can lay claim to every once in a while (well, lay

claim to might not be accurate -- more like borrow).

Hugs and donuts to all, who are my heroes every day,

Allan ++ Bubba Swami

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