the cat and the bee: Doctor Who

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Aorta Pulse Hypersensitivity: The Human Metronome

Thin as I've ever been

under the weight of puberty

pulsing loudly in my body and mind

the sound of the universe or a heart working overtime

my hips tick-tock back and forth like I am a human metronome

weakness in the spine is where my body is disjointed

hard to keep my footing as my torso and hips move to the pulse, but without a purpose

lying in my bed I feel as if I'm in my little ship

the wake of the waking attempts to lull me into sleep

in the bath you can see the pulse through the skin like a tom-tom drum kicking from within

every high and low of the heartbeat adding a new layer to the experience of time

In 2013, a cardiologist confirmed that what was overwhelming me was a hypersensitivity to the aorta pulse. He studied medicine in the military and said it was not uncommon in thin soldiers. He said they used to just cut men open to see if it was a aorta aneurism or just a hypersensitivity. They checked mine with an ultrasound. It has taken over a year to become less sensitive to this odd rhythmic feeling. It was complicated with the amplified sound of hyperthyroidism.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Chapter 1: thinking in old fashioned hypertext

This story begins the night of my cousin Elizabeth's wedding, the second week of November 2012. The wedding was outside of Hammond, Louisiana. I did not sleep that night. I could not remember sleeping a full night's sleep from Saturday, November 10 through about December 10 or 15. I can't remember the first night I actually slept more than 3 hours straight.

The night after November 10 (the 11th, I believe) I remember my mind and heart racing. I remember dancing the dances from the Buffy episode "Once More with Feeling," which was the musical put together by Adam Shankman. I was in my bedroom probably wearing some just below the knee length leggings. I dance both the parts of Buffy and her younger sister Dawn. I danced and danced. Adam Shankman is also a judge on my favorite summer television show So You Think You Can Dance. So, I went into a Bollywood style dance, as well.

I was having the best time of my life playing in my bedroom.

Then, I thought why is my mind working so quickly? Why am I linking all of these memories and facts that are stored in my mind? I am thinking in old fashioned hypertext. Why are all of these memories of my life coming to the forefront of my mind? Why am I thinking about experiences of my past with such great clarity?

Is this enlightenment? I had been meditating instead of sleeping the night before (the 11th or the 12th?).

Then, I thought about one of my favorite television shows Doctor Who. It is a science-fiction show in which the Doctor travels through time and space trying never to double back on his own timeline.

There was an episode in which a daughter is made from his DNA sample, and she skips childhood. She dies at the end instead of regenerating - as far as he knows. But, the show ends with her being brought back to life after The Doctor has already left and moved on to his next destination.

So, I was thinking am I a daughter lost in time and space?

Perhaps.

In the show Doctor's Daughter named Jenny does gymnastics through a laser beam grid.

I began doing what any yogini would do. I began practicing my inversions: handstands and armbalancing and headstands, too. These came with greater ease than they had ever come before.

This was one of the best experiences of my life.

However, I was really hungry and thirsty, too.

All of the food and water began tasting strangely. I felt like it was poisoned. Some tasted, perhaps, like rat poison (no, I've never tasted that before). Some tasted like iodine or formaldehyde. I kept searching for water and food that tasted correctly - like how I remember. It was very confusing. And, I panicked at this point.

Finally, I found some dark chocolate and that was my safe food along with sardines. I dumped the sardines in a bowl for me and a bowl for Orlan and did my best to keep us hydrated.

I worried that the cats were dying. I worried that I was dying.

My heart was racing and beating arhythmically.

I tried listening to my CDs and none of them sounded correctly. They seemed all garbled and tortured and ruined. The lyrics were changed.

Was this a living nightmare? A day-mare? This is what it seemed to me.

One point in time I was a fabulous yogini. The next point in time I was in a panic to same myself and all of the cats in the house.

Dad laid in his recliner with his cat Flash; she keeping watch over him.

Mom was speaking like a frightened girl who had just lost her father to cancer -- not allowed to visit him in the hospital and say her goodbyes.

What really happened? Perhaps my story is the truth. It is after all my story.

The food problem freaked me out the most. My safe foods kept becoming unsafe, tasting differently.

I'll end this posting here. There are a lot more details and things I remember. I'm just taking my time writing them down. The chronology probably will never be perfect.