the speedboat and the rock

i am a boat, speeding towards a rock that will certainly crush my frame. the rock is aways off, but i can see it, i can taste what the impact could be. it's a beautiful sunny day. i look everywhere but at that rock in my path. i am hoping at the last second, i can somehow swerve and avoid the crash.

save myself from the smashing, the pain, the drowning.

even as i feel the wind in my hair and know i am moving quickly towards the rock, each moment is in surreal slow motion. frame by frame, like the slow passing of a movie, projector set on the wrong speed.

my body has shut down for business. the low back is the general manager - she has flipped over the open sign and switched off the lights. in the dark, i lay in pain. last night, white hot pain that made me cry out, flashing into my sacrum, searing through my hips. i stumbled to the kitchen, sobbing, and took something more to kill the pain.

i am thinking, oh please just kill me. i thought my pain from two days ago was a 10, then a new 10 came along and upped the standard. what the hell is going on?

so far, no real answers, but a few solid hints towards the problem.

a new problem. or, more accurately, an old problem i didn't know i had. a problem older than both bouts of cancer. a problem that most likely set the stage and sold the tickets to cancer. the thought my doctor and chiropractor has is this: that i have ankylosing spondylitis, a form of arthritis. it's a auto-immune disease, really. it fuses your bones together and it's whole game is inflammation. my dad has it, has had it for 40 years. so i know that for the most part, i could, like him, beat this with diet and exercise.

yet at this moment i am so sick of being a patient, so weary after now 10 days and nights of pain...it is all just overwhelming.

there is blood work to be done and x-rays, too. a specialist to get on board. all this, when i am racing ever closer to that rock. april 30 is the day my COBRA insurance policy runs out. the policy that has been my lifeline these past 17 months. with it, i have been able to have coverage for a nathurpath doctor, a chiropractor and my acupuncturist, who also does chinese medicine. without it, i have only the option of the state high-risk pool plan. even more money each month that i don't have. my credit card debt mounts and i think if only i can survive this with my credit intact. i feel too tired and too beaten down to start again from scratch. i try to consider what 'plan b' could look like if i am not accepted into grad school and able to subscribe to the school's health insurance. it is very hard to look at that possibility.

when i do, all i see is the rock, getting bigger as i draw closer.

as i sat crying in my doctor's chair yesterday, she talked to me about stress. she said a failure in the back connects emotionally to not feeling supported, to fears about security and foundation. she is right, dear readers. i am scared and obviously, deeply stressed. as much as i try to concentrate on the beautiful blue of the water and the call of the birds flying by, i can't help seeing that rock in the distance. i have not felt so vulnerable on so many levels before. if there is a safety net, i can't seem to see it.

pain has made me so tired and so irrational. financially, i need a miracle. i know this much is true. in this moment, i can not find my way to peace of mind. i can barely find my way through the veil of pain and to the keyboard in front of me.

heaven help me, i can see why people become addicts after accidents. i would take anything, anything to relieve this pain. please send chocolate laced with pot. or whatever else you have.

you probably think i am kidding. i assure you, i am not.