All These Words I Don’t Just Say

I don’t know where to start, but this is a start so it’ll have to do.

Or it could begin with my son’s wobbling lip, when I caught him balancing on a blue plastic step on top of a kitchen chair while he was hanging off a pantry shelf, trying to reach the top and tub full of jelly beans. He teetered, then his foot slipped, and I ran up and grabbed him before he fell. Placing him on the floor, the words came out, hot, righteous words like ‘safety’ and ‘not for children’ and ‘you know better‘. His lip wobbled, his cheeks dropped. Eyes wet. My mouth hurt from the sudden yelling. Then I wanted to cry too and I opened my arms and said sorry.

We hugged silently. I crumpled to my knees and he sat in my lap, his back bent over, head buried into my chest.

It’s been quite a week, hasn’t it? I said.

And school hasn’t even begun yet.

*

I feel like I dropped Monday’s news and ran, and that’s not too far from the truth. I had to go into the city to make my specialist appointment. His offices are opposite the Alfred Hospital. By chance I was able to get some free parking across the park and as I walked the little way to get back where I needed to be, I couldn’t help but marvel at the way life just… happens. The cosmos is made up of such strange configurations, I’ve given up trying to work them out. January has seen new beginnings and greater challenges all at the same time. The specialist confirmed this when he used such phrases as “we need to manage your condition”, “I’ve had patients sit in that chair for thirty years” and “I want to see you back in March and if there’s no improvement, well, we’ll talk more then”. He ripped off a script for more medication and gave me a handy plastic folder full of cross-sectioned faces.

For those of you who are curious, it appears my articular disk has slipped out of place. The articular disk is that purple slug shape in the centre picture. If it slips, then it acts as a kind of doorstop, jamming the regular motion of the jaw. I have lots of exercises and a whole LONG list of stuff not to do, which as far as I can see is really to assist the compromised muscles not over-exert themselves. Whether or not the disk moves back to where it should be is really up to God or Jesus or Justin Bieber or George Clooney – whoever’s most powerful these days – to decide. A Higher Power – or surgery. That’s next for this contestant. Maybe (hopefully not). To be determined in March, at any rate.

(One of the things I’m not supposed to be doing is “vigorous kissing”. It was such an odd phrase, part of me wonders if it’s not a euphemism.)

(OMG IT’S A FOOT PICTURE!!!)

But it’s okay. What I’ve been telling people since, is things could be a whole lot worse. And as I walked across the park, on that sunny, stormy, windy, Melbourne-throws-it-all-at-you-day, I felt happy. Nervous, yes, with everything set to change, but excited too.

We’ve also had relatives down visiting this week and the kids have been sucking up this time with greedy gusto. They’ve played hard and stayed up late and bam! School looms again.

*

I’ve been wondering how a new job will impact my blogging. I’ve been wondering if I should keep up with it.

And I will.

I can’t imagine not blogging.

I was thinking about this when I was driving home on Monday afternoon, and Metallica came on, and the words of the title of this post came out through the speakers during ‘Nothing Else Matters’.

I don’t ‘just’ say anything here. I will continue for as long as I feel like I have something worthwhile and valuable to contribute to this community. I’ve got a lot of plans for this year. It’s going to be very exciting. Hard to juggle, probably! But we’ll get there.

I hope you stick around

31st January, #janphotoaday, Me, Again