Posts Tagged ‘ Politics ’

Finding Perfection in Imperfections

CL8ENirWUAAb5KZ (1)The weather hints at becoming cooler. I might be jumping the gun a little — it is South Carolina, after all — but that’s only because a summer indoors has high potential to induce, at best, wicked cabin fever (at worst, I imagine, complete insanity). Though still a warm afternoon principle presupposed physiology when Bernie Sanders came to town.

I made it the 1/4 mile walk from the parking area (a recently plowed dirt lot that happened to exist like a craggy red Martian field across the space between the convention center and nearby interstate) and wound to get in through a line around the building. Once inside, by some grace of the living animal that is a crowd of hundreds, I sat and a staffer immediately ran over with a cold bottle of water. I can do this, I thought. This is awesome and I want to be doing this. 

I remained in good spirits, but my words began to falter. The throbbing crowd seemed to spin around me like autumn leaves in the wind. I just needed to make it to my seat in the ballroom. Unfortunately, that seat was somewhere in this:

11896041_10153005969953038_6633555188431079982_n (1)

The room was packed as tightly as possible with people who also “Felt the Bern.” I pressed the cold bottle of water into my neck, chest, forearms. At first it was enough to be in the palpable midst of such excitement; the room kept filling up. I realized that it was more than a shared spirit that linked us all:it was our mutual body heat in a room where air conditioning was questionable. By the time Bernie reached the stage I was slumped into Cat and couldn’t stand or speak. I looked blankly at Cat now asking me questions. Blah, blah, MS ruins another day, blah blah… but suddenly Cat was getting me up and out of the room. In what seemed a blur of the arms and legs of 100 strangers, a staffer handed me a cup of ice water, and another staffer shuffled me into the bathroom. “This is the coolest place in the building,” she said, “The seating is terrible, but…”

11951642_10207247105118003_8654594976967883308_o

[after sitting in A/C for a few minutes]

Within minutes of cold air in a [pretty clean: bonus!] bathroom I began to feel cognizant. “There’s a staffer with pigtails saving you a chair in the hall,” someone ducked in to say. I was able to listen to the rest of the town hall meeting after all, from a plush chair outside the ballroom’s door. Because of these amazing staffers I was able to walk the 1/4 mile back to the car, where air conditioning met me with cold, open arms.

Then we celebrated this warranted joy with tacos from a local carnicería.

A few days later, the A/C in our car died. Cat is, as we speak, tending to having that fixed. Because I am lucky and loved.  “Losing myself” in public is scary, and I can’t be more grateful to the woman I married for taking care of me when it becomes obvious I no longer command the necessary faculties to do it myself. Autumn is coming, the car will again have A/C, and I’m jumping at the bit to start leaving the house more. I am really into this “Remitting” part of Relapse-Remitting MS — once climate shudders off some of the heat, I hope to really get this party [“leaving the house for more than groceries”] started.

Advertisements

Get up.

The Daily Gamecock

Proof of being out of the house courtesy of The Daily Gamecock, USC’s student newspaper

3/26/13: I’m going to pretend that the one hour interlude didn’t happen last night, because other than it I slept deeply and well. Then I never really woke. All day. There was a lot of feeling trapped and lazy, but I got to throw on clothes and make it out to the state house grounds for an equal marriage rights rally. Seeing friends was a fantastic stir in the pot of my brainmeats. For my brainmeats were not delivering at their righteous pace (which would be of little notice in a large crowd).

I did sweep the bathroom.

IMAG0142 (1)

I kinda just wanna frame it. Packaging and all.

3/27/13:  I’m going to pretend that the one hour interlude didn’t happen last night, because other than it I slept deeply and well. And I am sitting and trapped, looking at all of my surroundings with confusion. Am I just overwhelmed? No, I really do feel confused. Now to not feel angry because of it, therefore beginning the terrible spiral which will ultimately end in relentless anxiety. I can enjoy the cherry on what cake yesterday delivered: the best $1 foam puzzle ever made. I now own it, though I surely contemplate the safety of giving so many small parts to a child. Fish anatomy is very important to small children, though. I don’t know if my older niece would be excited or mortified.

There are more than plenty things to do. I have already done aerobics and drank a B12 shot with my coffee; where is my energy? Can I not even rely on external sources now, body? Don’t be overwhelmed. Just get up and do one thing. You know if you get up and do one thing you’ll be too anal to stop doing things even if all your body wants is to not be upright. Your legs are not the boss of you. Cog fog is not the boss of you.

Get up.