I Just Wanna Mop The Floor!!!

I want to mop the floor. Really. I do.

I love mopping floors. Looking down at a perfectly sparkling clean floor brings me a Zen-like peace. It sorta tells me that all is well when the floor is clean. Life is better without dust bunnies haunting and taunting me. 

 

But I haven’t been able to mop the floor. It’s impossible right now. So is cooking a meal, washing my hair, or getting into my car and running over to the local CVS. Yes, I consider it fun times browsing a fully stocked pharmacy like CVS and Walgreens. Don’t ask me why, it just is.

 

I cannot do these things because the other morning, while I was minding my usual business of procrastinating, the world started to spin and wouldn’t stop. I mean the entire planet went topsy-turvy in my head and would not stop. Naturally such turbulence caused great nausea, in turn causing an exorcist-like expelling of everything the ancestors and I have ever eaten all over my pretty home, including my happy-making brand new lime green 1800 thread count sheets, but I digress…

 

It wouldn’t stop. And when it did, it was only momentary. This went on for many, many hours. When I tried to move, I stumbled and bumped into things and couldn't get far. My equilibrium was shot. I was like a bad actor told to play very drunk. It was scary. I didn’t know what to do. So I called a bestie so she could bear witness to my terrible end. I laid in my own yuck, not giving a shit, wondering what version of a monstrous death had finally come upon me.

 

Yes. Death. Because dramatic Donniee thinks every little ailment is the sign of her untimely and horrible demise. Every little ailment. It's a sickening habit of mine. I'm working on it...

 

Yet, I could NOT die that morning. I hadn’t cleaned the house enough, I didn't know where yesterday's panties were and my top-secret journal was out in the open. That really was my thought and I tried to go get it to throw in the garbage; hoping when some concerned friend or the coroner came to find my lifeless body, they wouldn’t check the garbage for anything. But, alas, I couldn’t save my secrets. The world spun too violently.

 

Shit.

 

“Oh well”, I thought, "I was gonna write a book anyway". Now it just won’t be edited. I could only hope that my grammar was impeccable. 

 

Low and behold, present moment, I live another day and the journal is safe from your eyes once again.

 

Turns out I had some terrifying Vertigo episode. Ever have it before? That crap is just the pits, isn't it? Gosh that shit’s horrible. If I had to choose between cutting off my pinky toe or vertigo like this ….then just call me Nine Toe Tawanna.

6 days later and I am still woozy. I can do some stuff around the house, but I’m slightly disoriented and cloudy. I actually CAN mop the floor today, I exaggerated earlier to get your attention. But I could not for 5 days. 

I sat on my couch, laid in my bed, longing for a task. Longing to wash the dishes. Longing to clean the fridge, and I HATE to do that! Heck, I was desperate to wash and detangle my hair, and I avoid THAT like the plague. I couldn't even play my favorite games, too much stimuli. And that hurt my heart because I was losing so many daily points, I probably lost my champion position by now. Yup. I was stuck with myself. Quiet and still. Still and quiet. Wash and repeat. Wash and repeat. Sigh...

 

Today my eyes work in unison and I no longer see two of things. That’s cool. Seeing clearly is cool. Do you see clearly?

 

Having control of one’s body is also cool. Did you thank your body for working today? I did.

 

When I made coffee for the first time in SEVEN WHOLE ENTIRE DAYS 😑, I cried a little. Such a simple joy. I love the simply joys. When I went to open the window to enjoy the beautiful summer breeze this morning, I smiled a grateful smile that I didn’t get too dizzy. And even while my brain gets its act back together, you know, back to brilliant and sharp, there's gonna be a little stumbling throughout my days for a while, I am grateful that I can get up to stumble again, ya know?

 

So, the next time you are tempted to complain about washing your clothes or other mundane tasks, I urge you to be grateful instead. There are folks, many folks, who cannot do anything for themselves. Their bodies just won’t work that way ever again. And some of these folks still find the grace to count their blessings. Incredible right? 

A bestie and I decided definitively today that having a good experience or having bad experience is basically all in our perspective. I really believe it to be so. I couldn’t get grounded for a week, but I was still able to enjoy the blessings that took place. Wanna know some? Why sure!

 

1.     It didn’t happen on the road. I would have been in deep deep trouble had I been behind the wheel.

2.  I have no pressing places to be and am free to recover with no stress from the outside world. Except... okay, I won't get into how stressful it is to watch the U.S. Senate hate us commoners...

3.     My little circle of humans are as usual, ridiculously amazing. One came masked and gloved (of course) and cleaned up my horrible horrible mess without a grunt and without adding on to the mountains of vomit. She even volunteered!  Another basically threw some sick supplies into my house. We weren’t sure if I was experiencing some weird hybrid 'RONA thing (I wasn’t) and wanted to minimize risk, so she opened the door and tossed it in. She also brought me to ER when I was worried that surely I’ve contracted a rare brain destroying, zombie making bacteria from the bowels of the Himalayas, even though I have never BEEN to the Himalayas nor been around anyone much at all for the last few months.  One friend is taking me to another friend for acupuncture tomorrow.  And the clean-up lady/saint/friend came back with my soiled clothes and sheets all nicely cleaned, with food and CHOCOLATES!!!!! My big sister calmed me down and did that big sister/you're gonna be fine/take it easy thing that big sisters do so well. And a few carefully selected others listened to my concerns that maybe those wacko doctors are on to something with this alien DNA thing. Like, maybe the aliens are messing with our electromagnetic field to locate their long ago planted DNA to come get us chosen ones (cause THREE other people I know of have experienced this SAME-EXACT-THING lately) Think about it…. Yeah? No? Whatever. But the point is, these friends still think I'm sane enough to stay friends with, I think... Let's see if they pick up my calls tomorrow.

 

Yeah, that’s just to name a few of my blessings….

 

So, this is just another true tale of Donniee making sweet raspberry lemonade out of lemons on, This Road of Mine….

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