Sans Shanti

In my secret diaries on past years, I noted that it was so many days "sans shanti", a combination of French and Hindi, that I knew was too obscure for anyone to discern the meaning.  Even here and now, I cannot bring myself to write exactly what I mean.

Most of last year I kept thinking of starting again.  I put it off till after The Ring, because I knew those long operas would be difficult if I was craving, but only a week or so after it finished, I was back into it.  By then I had been seeing Donovan regularly, and progressed from the Friday at St Kilda to Tuesday at East Bentleigh.  Was it a return to "shanti" (peace) that stuffed up my progress?  I felt it was helping, but perhaps the opposite was the case.  It certainly helped with the massage treatment, but that is a different thing.  I have been going each Tuesday for acupuncture also, and I don't know how it affects that.

Anyway, now our regular supply has dried up.  So I have stopped again.  My heart is irregular again, which I noticed in January when I stopped for a few days.  Lately, it has been on and off again, and that has really stuffed me around.  I can either do it all the time or not at all.

Friday.
I'm a lot better today.  I went to Barbs yesterday for lunch and to get something for Billy.  She could be the access to our new supply, though I don't think any will be for me.  I had pains in my lower gut which I was sure were either bowel cancer or prostate cancer.  I finally found a chemist that stocked the bowel cancer test kit, which I will use at the weekend, then we shall see.  I might still go to the Urologist and insist on an operation rather than another biopsy, but that won't be till after Pesach at the earliest.

Just now, I thought I was on a tram with good time to connect to the bus, but we had to change trams at Tooronga Road.  (I always think: some things are wrong, some are wronger and this is too wronger.) I had just two minutes to run down the hill, with the lights against me, but I ran to the other side of the road, crossed against the lights, ran down the hill and saw the bus had already left, but it was stopped at the traffic lights across the freeway, so I ran over and he opened the door.

Tonight is a MTC play that won awards in Sydney.  I don't expect I shall enjoy it!!

Saturday
Feeling better today, but still had some pains in lower abdomen last night.  Not acute pain, but felt something.  It is a worry.  I did the first of the bowel cancer tests this morning and will do another tomorrow.  I think that part of me is fine.  My prostate is the problem.    I piss so often and so slowly.  Perhaps the acupuncture is making it worse.  I will give it another couple of weeks, then if I still feel bad like this I will insist on an operation.  I suppose there is no desperate rush because if the cancer were spreading, I would feel generally bad, wouldn't I?

Saturday afternoon:
When I got to Billy, he showed me how Edward had helped him last night rearrange the kitchen.  I have been replaced.  I felt so bad, I cannot tell you.  I was on the verge of tears.  I couldn't say anything. I just made lunch and Billy put some things back.  But he has thrown out a lot of things that were familiar to me there.   Now, he is off with Edward to go shopping, that I pay for, of course.  He won't go places with me, won't visit me.  Just tolerates me being there sometimes so I will keep paying for everything.  It is such a fraud.

The sooner I have a heart attack or get cancer, the better.

Monday.
It is a week now "sans shanti".  The irregularity has ended, but for the last day or two I have had very high blood pressure.  (I have a machine)  Right now I feel fine, but earlier I felt like I was on the verge of a heart attack.  Slight shortness of breath, a bit of pain in my chest and left arm, not very noticeable, but there.

Tomorrow I go for the acupuncture again.  I haven't mentioned anything to him and now I wonder if it was rank foolishness to indulge in the last few months.  Did it make all the cost of the acupuncture worthless?  More important, is that why my visits to Donovan have gone nowhere.  This morning again I went to the office with the intention of finishing "the letter", but again couldn't face it.  So I still have not made a formal complaint about being raped.  I was going to write to Dr Wayne and report how hopeless Donovan has been.  I was going to cancel tomorrow's visit, but I will go ahead with it.  I keep thinking about how I will tell him it is my last visit.  I sent him a copy of my letter to Val, and imagine they talked about me, but I am sure they didn't.  What can anyone do?  Nothing.  I must just go on alone, if I survive, as I guess I shall.

Tuesday:
That was beyond wierd.
This morning I woke feeling nearly as bad as yesterday.  I managed to shower etc and walked through the "forest" as usual up to the acupuncture.  Afterwards, I did feel much relaxed and got the bus to Donovan.  To my surprise I was calm and rational, and spoke of myself as if everything was fine and I had coped with everything.  I didn't tell him how I nearly cancelled, but shook hands at the end and thanked him for all his help etc.

Then I bussed back to Billy, and enjoyed a Revenge with him and a couple of Phineases alone.  Then came back here.  I could feel the old feeling of exhaustion returning as I walked back.  I looked around to see if there was at least one thing I could put out for the hard waste collection, but couldn't find anything.  Instead I looked at the detritus of my life, which overwhelms me.  I started to practice the keyboard, but had no enthusiasm for it, and came back here.

Somehow, I feel as if I have passed through something significant and am a new person in some way.  But I don't know how to get on top of my house or make something of my dysfunctional life.

Saturday:
Where has the week gone?  Yesterday I woke feeling really bad, again, with blood pressure over the top.  (190/100)  Being a holiday, Billy wanted me to go there to make lunch.  I think he is trying to be very nice to me, in his vague way, perhaps to compensate for his friendship with Edward.  When I got there, he told me he had already been to Joe's and Edward had driven him.  I don't know what to make of that.  Anyway, as the day progressed I felt better, By the evening I was OK to go out and went to the Muppets show I had a ticket for; it was OK, silly but funny and clever impro.  As soon as I got home, Barbara phoned, so I talked to her for a while.  Now off to Billy again.