Thursday, July 14, 2011

Greek Tragedy

This past week has piqued my imagination from a deep sleep.

The Scene (In My Head):

Mount Olympus, The Greek gods are tired and bored and tossing out ideas to keep them entertained. They arrive at the consensus that they would find one of Earth's most content mortals and see what kind of drama they can stir up.

Flash to Earth, I am found lounging by the pool communicating with friends new and old, talking of all of the books and plays and movies and conversations and adventures filling my every day. I have a beautiful tan, an infectious smile, and there is no line of stress to be found on my youthful face. I am grateful and happy and calm. I declare that I have found an inner peace that nothing can disrupt.

Mount Olympus, The gods explode in laughter at the sound of my declaration. Goddess Hygeia sends down a disease, then one by one, they up the ante. Tossing ridiculous complications at the already morbid situation, growing more hysterical and absurd with each one!

The Scene (In Reality):

Well, you've read the day by day. This past week has been a wicked divorce from the Utopia I had built. Exhausted and beaten last night, I crawl into Sassy's guest bed in Utah hour from my home. At 1:30 a.m. the heart monitor and transmitter both beep at me. During initial set-up, the nurse assured me that while she included replacement batteries in my supply kit, I wouldn't be needing them...but the electronics disagreed. I had taken the nurses word as law and had not bothered to pack a battery with, I assured myself that it was probably similar to my iPhone which notifies me when I'm at 20% (still plenty of power), and I roll over and fall back asleep. 90 minutes later, they squawk again for attention.

I stumble out of bed and search for Sassy's television remote control. Assuming that all AA batteries are created equal I swap them and head back to bed...only to find the notifications have quickened the 10 second intervals. I quickly dress and stumble out to my car just before 4:00 to make my way to the nearby grocery store. Disheveled and heralding my arrival with an angry machine attached to my body I beeline it for the battery isle. Turns out a 3.6 volt AA battery is not a mainstream luxury. I convince myself that the lithium battery will be an upgrade from the alkaline I stole from the remote and march to the check-out...where I find a very concerned checker anxious to usher me through.

The exchange makes no impact and I determine that Wal-Mart will be the source of my only life's wish...a 3.6 volt AA lithium battery. Wal-Mart is an epic fail and I find myself standing in the parking lot at 4:00 a.m. silently screaming inwardly as there is no reason to compete with the siren attached to my chest.

I am certain that my rapidly increasing heart-rate is only sucking the remaining juice of the battery more quickly and I do the only "rational" thing I can think of. I climb in my car and begin the 60 minute drive home. Was I worried about falling asleep at the wheel? HA! Not at all! The dead couldn't sleep through my medical alarm!

At this point, I am convinced that the next jab from a bored god is only minutes away and that I am destined to receive a traffic ticket. But either the gods were sleeping, or my cruise control was too powerful to be defeated...because I made it home, slipped inside, swapped the battery and then drank in the silence.

The story might have ended there as I climbed into the bed I was sitting on...but that wouldn't be interesting at all! See, I had stayed in Utah County so that I could drive Sassy and her mom to the airport this morning. Also, when I set off hours ago to fetch a battery, I never imagined that it would land me back in my beautiful I'd left my belongings, including the monitor charger, at Sassy's home. Then again, I did the only "rational" thing I can think of...crack a diet coke and get back in my car for an hour long return trip.

In Conclusion (In My Head...or Reality...You Make the Call):

My imagination is being overactive...and I have begun being overly dramatic. There is no sinister team of minions working against me, it just feels that way in the middle of the night. The batteries got replaced, I didn't wreck in a bad scene of drowsy driving, no state trooper clocked me speeding in a construction zone. The only consequence of the evening is being made known as the pitting edema (often exacerbated by lack of sleep) grows rapidly...putting a damper on my weekend wardrobe for sure!

1 comment:

SherBear said...

Ohhhhh Kim, this story makes me crazy! So glad you survived it! ;) Love ya!