My Own Private I Dunno

At the close of the London Olympics, I find myself contemplating the giant inflatable octopus, NBC’s decision to air Animal AYFKM Hospital over The Who, & how far I’ve come since the last Olympics.

During Beijing I was living with & engaged to someone who was not engaged in my life, & that’s ok. I was chronically ill with one properly diagnosed disease (fibromyalgia) & one as yet undiscovered one (celiac disease). It’s hard to live with & be in love with someone who is always in pain, & he was 4 years younger than me, & he had places to be & things to do. I understand.

Not long after Beijing & the 2008 election, I took the advice of a friend who had made one last ditch attempt himself to see an endocrinologist over his GPs objections. It improved his life greatly, so I figured what the hell? My neurologist thought it was a fine idea, & I went. That’s where I was diagnosed with celiac disease & low thyroid. Both were treated immediately, & I saw improvements soon after.

It was then, when my eyes were opened & my pain significantly deceased, that I wanted to leave Reno for Los Angeles. And I wanted to go without the fiancé. And he was fine with that.

And then everything got surreal. And better.

But I also stopped taking thyroid. Whoops.

I’ve now remedied that this week. Those of you familiar with my unintentional comic timing might note that it’s been 102 or more every day in the Valley this week. How fitting that I should no longer be freezing cold all the time now. I actually sweat, like a human person. I had been previously panting like a dog. No. I was always cold. Constantly, achingly cold.

I lie here in bed right now with the covers off & a fan blowing on me & smiling, thinking “I’m miserable & this is awesome because it means I have a metabolism. I AM BURNING CALORIES FOR LIKE THE FIRST TIME IN OVER A YEAR & I AM MAKING HEAT. I make heat!!! HEAT!!! My body is doing its goddamned jorb! YAY!!!”

So what will come of all this heat & sweat by opening ceremonies in Brazil, August 5, 2016? Will I have reached my goal weight? Will I have surpassed it? Will I be married, & pregnant & actually trying to gain weight again? My God, will I be in Brazil for those ceremonies?! Maybe I won’t be able to be in Brazil because I’ll be in London, or Australia, or Paris, or Vienna. Maybe I’ll be in China picking up an adopted daughter. I may even just be in Sherman Oaks picking up a lamp.

But I’ll bet whatever God’s plan is for me, it’ll be awesome. He’s been fairly generous so far, in some strange, not easily measured ways, that of course cannot be disclosed. My life is…well, maybe like 2 of you would understand.

I’m grateful to everyone who got me through these last 4 years. You know who you are, even though you may not fully know the scope of what you’ve helped accomplish.

And despite all of y’all, I will finish my damned book by then. Three, if I have any say in it. Sometimes I don’t.