Journal: 10/01/06—10/10/06

The six-month anniversary of Joann’s transformation from form into memory passed remarkably smooth this month. It was only toward the end of the day, before I went to bed, that I remembered that six months had gone by. The date itself didn’t trigger a day of pain or sadness, as it usually did. Is this a sign of personal recovery and putting Joann into a new place in my existence where she can live in my heart without distracting me from my life? I would like to think so; any sign of healing is a welcome one.

This is a cumulative post covering the first ten days of October. The order is in roughly the order that main events happened, but musings are random. I will try to make this kind of a post the last one; the combination posts covering several days are long and only serve the purpose of providing "catch-up" information to my readers when I didn’t feel like writing for long periods. I may still don’t feel like writing much now, but the journal post centering on a single day that captures some main event of the day, tells the story better. Less muddied, so to speak.

Remembering What’s Missing

For a brief while, I felt as though I was regaining control of my life again. I even went so boldly as to think that the six-month anniversary of Joann’s passing was less painful than other months before. Yet, I find myself slipping back into the pathos of missing Joann. This must be another stage of grieving, because its not like the emotions I felt before.

Sure, there is still the gaping hole in my heart where she used to be. Yes, I’m still going through cycles of depression but they don’t stop me in my tracks like they did in the first six months of her passing, I just can’t seem to write about it as much as I used to, or need to. Or, write about anything else either. I live within my established framework (get up, shower, go to work, zone out on the web for nine hours, go home, spend a couple of hours with Bill, eat dinner, go back to bed, repeat), but that’s all I seem capable of doing. Lately I’ve managed to pull myself out of my malaise long enough to see my new doctor, apply for general assistance, and keep the people at social services happy so my food stamps don’t disappear. I don’t see this as progress though, merely the "treading water" lifestyle I’ve adopted since Joann died.

This round of grief-thinking is taking a different form. I get caught up in remembering the things I miss about having a stable relationship with a woman. Considering that my life with Joann was the only stable relationship with a woman I’ve ever had, all of my thoughts return to her. This is why I believe that this is yet another stage (forward or backward?) in my grieving process.

Where before I was in a constant state of general loss, this time around I’m fixated on the attributes of my relationship with Joann that are missing. Like, her touch, the scent of her hair, the kiss when I came home after work, handholding when we went for walks, the hugs we shared when either of us was crossing a bad patch, and the ones when we weren’t. These are things I’ve never thought about missing from someone before, but these days it seems like they are all I can think about.

I don’t know if this is a sign of another kind of pain, these memories evoke sadness, not soul-wrenching longing. Sure, I’m still depressed, and maybe to the point of immobility sometimes, but I still keep thinking I’m doing better. No miracle cures here, just the directionless plodding of the forlorn.

And, the holidays will be arriving soon, a veritable playground for all those unruly memories that trigger poignant emotions.

Second Visit with Dr. Trotter

October 6, 2006. This was a follow-up exam. Dr. Trotter checked me over and I discussed a couple of things with her that we missed on my last visit. She also took my blood sugar and it was a nice 95, my diabetes is agreeably under control, and I’m still doing it by diet. She said that she couldn't do much more at this point than check me over and issue prescriptions until I found some funding from an agency of some type. This I knew already, but she did say, ratcheting up the urgency, that there were a few things, tests and such, that needed to be run for her to get a better picture. At least I know she is on my case and after so many years of not having a regular physician I could consider my "family" doctor, Dr. Trotter is quite a comfort.

I know I am going to have a hard time dealing with Social Security and other State agencies, so I listened when Dr Trotter reminded me that there is a program at Natividad Hospital for people like me without income or insurance. I’m planning to make the trek to Salinas to apply for it (the MIA program) as soon as soon as I get some free time and the right day off (like a Monday instead of a Sunday). I’ll also have to wait until my certification for the County’s pay-based-on-income program comes through. As of this visit to Dr. Trotter, it hadn’t and the County sent me a bill for the first visit ($98.00), but I think it will shortly. I’m getting used to the gears of government grinding unhurriedly.

Exam at Natividad

October 8, 2006. I switched my day off from a Sunday to a Monday so Bill and I could make the trek to Salinas for my General Assistance exam at Natividad Hospital. The results of this exam, if showing that I’m disabled enough; get me out of having to pick up garbage for my $133.00 a month in County-sponsored General Assistance. It will also be further proof to other agencies that I have enough, long neglected, health issues that I may qualify under other programs for some form of medical support until I can get my own. I’m still under the impression that if I can feel better (without all those nasty neural and spinal issues) then I will do better at making my economic life a better place to be.

The exam for my General Assistance application didn't take long. After running a few tests, the doctor set my limitations where we thought they should be. Essentially, he gave me a full disability rating, noting that I shouldn't be riding public transportation, and shouldn't even be working (fat chance there, I’m too old to be living in a shelter). All of this was faxed to my social worker and I dropped another copy off at her office on my way home. I even got a copy for myself that I could give to Dr. Trotter and use to apply for the MIA program at Natividad Hospital later.

National Novel Writing Month, Fifth Time Around

For the last four years, the month of November has represented the one time of my year where I pull together all of my thoughts, ideas and ramblings into an outline for a new novel. November is National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo for those who get tired of mouthing the whole title. NaNoWriMo is an informal competition with one’s self to write 50,000 original words in the loose form of a novel (chapters and paragraphs). It is also a very public competition because your daily results are posted on the web and compared with other participant’s progress. It is a wonderful opportunity for the aspiring, yet nonproductive, novelist to shame themselves into spewing reams of illiterate, plotless prose in the hopes that, in the end, their muck will resemble a work of fiction, if to no one other than themselves.

The only "prize" is the novel at the end of the month. No money, no kudos except from immediate family and friends. However, to those of us who absolutely must write their every imaginative thought down on paper or computer, this is an opportunity not to be missed. As a result, I have four uncompleted, unedited, unsold works of fiction taking up trophy space on my computer. Yet, I live out the year for the month of November. Every year I dream that this will be the one year I will actually follow through and complete a novel in the months after November, instead of archiving it on my hard-drive in some faint hope that inspiration will strike again in January. Or February. Or March.

Lemming-like, I have signed up for my fifth year. My motivation is that in order to have the satisfaction of "winning," you must write 50,000 words by the end of November, and I find that this is a great motivator for me to actually spend some structured time writing, a task I seem incapable of achieving any other of the eleven months in the year.

As with every November, I believe that this year will be different. Unlike prior years, my life is stable; there are no unforeseen (so I hope) fiascos on the horizon as in the past years. November, since the advent of NaNoWriMo in my life, has proven to be the one month I could count on the Fates to take my life and run it through the shredder. It is almost as if the Fates won’t give me a break for a month so I can do something I want to do. So, I’m dreaming that this November will be different, if not better. I might even come out of November feeling as if I’ve really accomplished something. That would be nice for once. And, as usual, I have a plan.