Life comes down to the details.

My surgery was postponed today. Reason you ask? I needed a referral to prove the procedure was “medically necessary”.

Hope you can follow… My insurance company covers the surgery 100%. My primary care clinic does not contract with my ear specialist/surgeon. Therefore, I am unable to get a referral to see my specialist/surgeon. My surgery was scheduled for Monday. I don’t have time to find a new clinic that contracts with my specialist/surgeon and get a referral before my surgery. So I had to postpone the surgery.

Life comes down to the details.


I got a tattoo.

I got it for me. I got it as a reminder that while I have Meniere’s Disease, I am also a warrior.

It is a W on my wrist. When I look at it upside down it is an M. For Meniere’s Warrior.




I can never escape it.
Somehow I always end up feeling guilty when I am sick. When I finally an able to express how I feel.
I am working on letting others be responsible for their own emotions. Damn, it is difficult to not try to control everyone and everything in my life! You would think I would crave dropping that responsibility. But if I let go of that control then I am completely out of control.
You see? I don’t have control over my world. The only thing I have control of is my relationships. If I let go of that…
If you did the math correctly, then that means I have nothing to be in control of… Does this only make sense to my sick mind?
I am so sick of the rage, the guilt, the anger. Sometimes it takes on a life of it’s own and I feel powerless to stop it. I feel this pressure in my chest like at any moment I could explode.
I think people in my life don’t want to hear about it anymore. While they say they do, their actions are different. It’s old news. I am so sick of talking about it I don’t blame them.
My grandmother is always brutally honest. Sometimes it is very painful. But I will give her one thing – you never have to guess how that woman is feeling. Is that liberating? No matter how much it hurts to hear, would it be better for me to just know how those around me really feel? Just have them tell me to shut the hell up and quit whining? No one has the balls to because I chronic illness and they have the obligation to at least pretend to care or listen. But would I be ready to hear that?
Who knows? I am rambling now.


It’s dark here.
I’m alone.
I can feel it.
I can taste it.
The rage.
I blame you.
It’s easier to.
Like metal in my mouth.
It’s fear.
Turned outward.
I am so angry.
Because I am so sad.
The truth of it.
I am so fucking alone.
It’s blinding.
Doesn’t begin to describe.
The rage.
I smell it.
I still blame you.
I know I shouldn’t.
You underestimate.
The rage.
You underestimate me.
My fight.
My rage.