Today I got mad.

Today I got mad. I became enraged at how everything felt out of my control. I’m infuriated as I type this, so here we go.

[Inserting calm Mary-Margaret to note that I am well aware that life in general is just out of our control, and there will always be things we want to change but can’t change. All we can control is how we react, but sometimes it’s refreshing and exhilarating to act out. So, back to other Mary-Margaret…]

I feel like I haven’t been in control of my body for years with all the compounding chronic health issues. It has seemed like no matter what I do, things go wrong. I have to do this a certain way, and that. And I can’t eat that, can’t drink this. CAN’T HAVE COFFEE. You can’t run Mary-Margaret. You can’t be around animals that you love, Mary-Margaret. You can’t go outside. You can’t visit family because you’ll be exposed to a myriad of allergens. You can’t have a good time on trips because you’re allergic to everything and secretly uncomfortable the entire time. But just to remind everyone: NO CAFFEINATED COFFEE. I had this confirmed at my doc appointment this week.

So I felt like being defiant. I bought AND drank a turmeric chai spiced latte. This coffee shop named this latte: “A Sweet Boy.” I’m sure there’s a joke somewhere, but anyway. Just what the body needs. A sweet boy. One latte for Mary-Margaret, please and thank you.

Then I found out this “Sweet Boy” doesn’t actually have espresso in it. Not very sweet, are we now, boy. So to fulfill my defiance I exclaimed: “Add espresso to that Sweet Boy, please!” The gal at the register was understandably wary of my particularly enthusiastic demeanor and didn’t make much eye contact. But alas, I drank my caffeinated latte in fiery defiance. And I relished it. I savored it. It was the best latte I’ve had in my life. I guess there are still some sweet boys in the world.

As I sat in the coffee shop consuming my audacious latte, I went on to write an absurd, improper and blatantly honest cover letter to a job that I did not technically, on-paper qualify for because I am so STINKING sick of being defined by the basic, cliche words on a resume. I’m so tired of the business lingo, and that it ‘better be sent in a PDF’ because we’ve apparently all collectively decided that if you send it as a PDF then you show “attention to detail.” Why, why is that? Is the PDF really that much better than a word document? Is it? Is it? Maybe it is, it probably is, but if you’re so concerned with an ability to convert it to a PDF, which is really easy, might I note, then you can do it yourself. Here, I’m sending you a word document to test YOUR attention to STINKING detail. This is my first test for you, to see whether I want to work for you. The interview goes both ways, my friend.

[An off-topic side note: you are welcome to insert an alternate word where “STINKING” has been placed, as I assure you my brain came up with a different one. But I’m in a phase where I’m not sure cursing suits my personality. What do you think? I might change my mind by the end of the week though, or perhaps at the end of this sentence.]

At my recent doc appointment, I was told that all the healing I had achieved BEFORE my very recent vacation has all been reversed, REVERSED. So we’re starting from scratch, doing treatments I had already done… again, again, again. “Healing is not linear,” they say. And I know this, I do, I really do. But it SUCKS. It does. It just does. And it’s okay for me to tell myself that “healing isn’t linear and it’s all part of the journey and la la blah blah blah,” but sometimes I don’t want to hear that from someone else. Sometimes I don’t want to be “comforted.” I just want to be angry, I just want to feel, I just want to let it out. OUT!

I’ve been meditating more lately. Can’t you tell?? Can’t you? I’m clearly perfectly zen and calm, and I’ve reached the realm of master of monk maidens. Which isn’t even thing, but I wanted some alliteration here. My defiance continues! At this same appointment where I was told my healing had reversed, I was told that my hip pain and issues are: “very likely in my head,” and that “there is nothing structurally wrong.” This was after my session was over, and we were walking out in front of all the other folks in the waiting area. So I didn’t have the time or mental bandwidth to ask: does this mean all the MRIs and various scans I’ve had done over and over to make sure they were correct… are wrong? I don’t have all kinds of rips and tears in my hip labrum? I don’t have cartilage loss and cysts and other messes in my knees?? Also, just to note: labrum tears do not heal on their own. You either deal with it, have arthroscopic surgery and/or get a hip replacement, which is what I was told I will likely have to do.

Were the multiple orthopedists and physical therapists I’ve seen all wrong?? Should I report them for malpractice?? This was just all in my head, you say. Well, here we fucking go. (And here, folks, is apparently where I decided curses can occasionally be part of my persona.)

I do not take kindly when someone questions my experience, my feelings, my health. I questioned my feelings—the pain and discomfort—for years, ignored it all, tried to push it away, and then my body revolted.

[Let me insert calmer Mary-Margaret here. I realize there is more explanation as to why my doc said this, and I will ask at my next appointment. I am also not angry at this doctor, but rather just extraordinarily frustrated at the lack of control in my body that I have felt for so long. And also, let me note that I am well aware there are millions and billions of people with far, far worse health issues, and there are horrifying events taking place in other countries… and all around our nation and world. These pieces could have, or rather, very likely did add to my general feeling of anger and overwhelm.]

Anyway.

When I was first diagnosed with all my hip and knee injuries, I kept asking if I was allowed to run, and when I wouldn’t be quiet about it, the orthopedist finally said, “You should NEVER run unless you’re being chased and fear for your life!”

Well today, folks, I was being chased by confinement, conformity and a seemingly uncontrollable chronic illness. So I ran.

I ran out of the house. I ran down the street. I ran into the park. (I also walked, because, let’s face it, this body and my lung capacity aren’t in running shape). I walked some more because I kept tripping over walnuts strewn about the roads and pathways. I never realized how many walnuts blanket the ground this time of year in East Nashville.

And then I ran more because there are also wasps everywhere, and they can motivate one to run—erratically perhaps, but still running.

As most folks know, I also have a myriad of health issues completely unrelated to hip and knee injuries. Far more serious and debilitating health issues. Well, this run, with the heat and the allergens flared all of that, of course. And I knew it would. But I just needed to feel some sense of agency in my life. I wanted to feel like I was controlling my destiny. So I made myself really uncomfortable. I did it. It was my choice. ME!

I guess I don’t really have any spectacular ending to this story. Sometimes you just need to add a little spice of defiance to your life. Chai spiced, perhaps.

If I hear anything back from the job posting that I sent the radical cover letter to, I’ll report back. I’ll be sure to notify you in a PDF, of course.