Shake me up, Judy

Title for this post comes from the BBC adaptation of "Bleak House" by Charles Dickens. The film offers up a wonderful performance by Gillian Anderson (of X-Files fame) as Lady Dedlock. The quote "Shake me up, Judy", however, comes from Phil Davies in the role of the unforgettable moneylender Smallweed (Judy aka You-Poll-Parrot - an odd choice of nickname since she utters only two or three words the entire film - is Smallweed's long-suffering granddaughter). There is no mention of the man's affliction but it appears to be some sort of osteo malady. In any case, Smallweed is one of the characters providing a degree of comic relief to an oft otherwise, well, bleak story. Here's a sample of Davies/Smallweed in action:

For me, the phrase "Shake me up, Judy" takes on an entirely different meaning.

In recent months, much of my little world has had something of a shake up.

I spent the better part of the past two + years getting my affairs in order following the "terminal" diagnosis, only to find myself very much alive and bordering on well months after my "best before date". The adjustment to the latter is almost as stressful as the former. While I have no experience with such matters, I assume it is akin to that faced by someone on Death Row who is given an unexpected stay of execution or someone who has prepared for extremely risky surgery only to have the operation cancelled after they've arrival in the operating room. Yes, my situation was indeed good news but it was still rather unexpected. And I knew things could revert to a more precarious stance at any moment. And so they have.

In recent days I learned my burst of seemingly robust health hid a sinister force bent on enticing me over to the darker side. Knew it would happen sooner or later, but I was hoping for later even while preparing for sooner. Yesterday I was given a dose of optimism when told treatment options still exist.Talk about an emotional rollercoaster.

So I'm left to cram as much life into my life as I can while keeping one corner of my eye on the proverbial hourglass. Joy mixed with caution, if you will. Part of me running full tilt into things while mentally holding something back. An odd position, to be sure.

It's difficult to explain how my mind is working these days. Yes, I'm ruminating on all the medical stuff, but I'm also giving over no small amount of grey matter to all things pertaining to textile arts. The general stuff of life, interactions with others and the world around me, also requires mental attention as does the absorption of new information and ideas. At times it seems I'm watching a movie or play, an outsider looking in on all the action. On other occasions, there are long periods of deja vu where I can tell someone else what will happen next but don't for fear of stopping the action. Over the past year or so, there have been times when my mind and body seem out of sinc - mentally grasp for words, forget what I'm saying in the middle of a sentence, start reading "across" crossword clues as "down" and vice versa... The deja vu and sinc issues have become more common in recent months. Is my brain going somewhere without the rest of me? Hmmmm.

Not sure if any of this makes any sense. Like I said, there's a lot going on and much of it is hard to put into words. That's not to say it's all bad or uncomfortable or anything like that. Feels very natural somehow. Like everything is happening just the way it should, even if it's not what I want to happen, even if I don't know what's happening or that it is happening at all. Perhaps realizing that I can't stop whatever is going to happen no matter what I do or don't do helps me rationalize my way to a point of calm?

No, I'm not being brave. There's nothing brave about any of this. Truth be told, I'm damn scared. Interestingly, I'm also very comfortable with what's going on. Yes, I'm tired. And I'm not thrilled about being sick all the time. In fact, I literally am sick and tired of being sick and tired. But I'm not freaked out about it. As long as someone is giving me information about what is happening and what is going to happen next, I seem to be good with it all. Really. Sad but not distraught. The weird part is, I was extremely emotional when I was younger - could be bawling one minute and laughing the next. Would not describe myself as an overly mature individual (if I continue to act like I'm 10-years-old I won't get old, right?) but I'm somehow able to work with the heavy stuff okay. Not sure what that means either.

Guess life is truly a crap shoot and we're all just dice in the wee tumbler the Great Creator tosses around from time to time. The lot we get is the lot we get. It's up to each of us to do something with what we're given. And then, without a moment's notice, we're scooped back into the tumbler for another roll.

So, what happens now? I haven't a clue. But, like Smallweed, I'm trying to get comfortable with whatever life throws at me next.

So, Judy, continue to shake me up!