Ok, I confess, I need my moment of whingeing, ( great Kiwi word)... for having a good bitching session. This is my blog and I can do what I want! ;}
It is precisely 3 am, on my computer clock, which given I travel so much I no longer even bother changing. I bolted out of bed with a mother*** cramp deep underneath my ribcage, trying rubbing that one out!
My surgeon told me to expect this, but what a way to wake up!. Since I am now completely awake, I might as well sit down and write in this blog.
At this point, it is sort of like talking to a blank wall or my kids, for that matter of fact. Cathartic at least... and helps me to process my thoughts but a bit boring without human interaction.
Don't expect answers, candidly because I don't have them, just some personal musings. And after two divorces, what the heck do I know anyway?
I am recently single, and am trying to sort through the whole dating, thing post age 40. Throw chronic pain on top of that and it is all quite a lovely mess of uncertainty, opportunity, and human hilarity.
There is no check mark on match.com for chronic pain among their 2000 other inane questions. I (presume) I appear reasonably normal when I go on a blind date, unless it is a bad pain day, in which case everything tends to like to lock up and I hobble around.
SO:
Do I confess on that first ever so comfortable date, that my back and spine now look like Edward Scissorhands left his latest signature piece on it? The look is quite fetchiing with the sexy black negligee, black spike boots, a whip and goth makeup, I must say, if you are into that kind of thing) !
Do I casually mention that I am electrically wired up internally like the bionic woman and have to turn my back on and off at times to deal with the pain or just surprise him with all my various gizmos and control boxes?
Better yet, that the titanium cage in my back from my spinal fusion can lock up and cause me to have to contort in very interesting ways during some very inconvenient times?
Should I confess all from the onset and have that distinguished gentleman I met on match.com, running with a look of shocked horror from the Starbucks table with his double non fat, extra hot, no foam latte in hand?
Or better yet, just leave it for later9 should things work out), as an unusual surprise that he can share with his friends for years to come...
Perhaps I should date only men with chronic pain issues or related disability related problems, so they can relate?
Or will I end up taking care of them and only then- myself. A long standing joke in San Miguel where I currently reside part time is." Men either go there to die or find a nurse to help them along the way...if they still have the strength and money to find one."
I haven't found a dating service for chronic pain survivors yet. I presume they are out there...
Perhaps my next biz in my every interesting string of bizarre entrepreneurial ventures? I can only imagine the questions I would need to add to the matching criteria. My PHP programmer would be rolling on the floor.
At any rate, I am at least finding this process rather amusing, so I suppose I will go with. Better than sitting at home and watching summer re-runs every night alone with the kitties.
However, my children, who assume I am a total loser in the dating world anyway after my second divorce, "say take thee to a nunnery, woman".
Do they accept non Catholic, agnostic chronic pain afflicted nuns? How ever will I get up from the pews after 4 hours of prayers?
It is a trial and error thing, I suppose, so I will go with it. I will report back my amusing dating efforts and findings after my next venture in the world of Sex, Love, Dating and All the Juicy Bits. And I will keep on laughing!
Cheers, and may you be blessed with better sleep than mine!
Wendy
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