Weenie Hut Jr.
“Ledge talking” is a term that Master Pravus coined to explain when I am being a complete and utter weenie and I should be sent to the Weenie Hut to cool down for a minute. It sounds a lot worse than it is. Ledge talking is when you’re so scared that you’re about to jump off the edge of the.. Plans. Maybe you’re not really going to do it, but you’re having trouble with follow through. It’s not so much that you don’t really want to do what you’re talking about. It’s just that the panic is setting in and you’re getting the shakes. You’re freaking out. You’re starting to teeter precariously towards the edge as you inch closer towards the ledge.
It’s just that, for me. That edge is the hospital. I am absolutely fucking beyond terrified of the hospital. I’m scared of that place. I don’t like it there. I mean. Ok. Nobody likes it there. I’m convinced that nobody likes it there, even the people who claim they do. I can’t imagine liking the hospital. The hospital is my Bad Way Bingo. But I rely on it to live. Your average person may need to go there for surgery several times in their life, but I need to go there several times in a year. And I’m trying to cut that down right now by getting TPN which would make that substantially less. Then I might be more on par with a “normal” person. I would only need surgeries a “usual” amount (like, OK I guess, technically maybe every so often for my Enterra device, and also every who-knows-how-often for my port… But that wouldn’t be 6+ times per year for my feeding tube etc.) and I want that so badly. And I’m fighting for that. And that’s great. But I’m not there. And guess what I was up doing the other night?
Ledge talking.
I don’t even know if it’s fair to say that I was ledge talking. Master Pravus might have misread my emotions, and I don’t even know if that is unfair or not. Maybe after the many times he has seen me get absolutely terrified the night before a surgery..
So, as I was trying to get ready for bed, I suddenly started burrowing under a blanket like a scared kitten. (Why am I like this?)
“Kitty?”
“Scared,” I whispered stupidly.
“Kitty? Of what? ..specifically.” He made an effort to bother. It’s not that he doesn’t care. It’s just that he pretty much knows that by the time I am curled up in a ball wrapping myself up in blankets trying to get in my head about anything is nearly useless because I’m not really a thinking animal by that point.
“It never works.”
“Hmm?”
“This. The hernia. They never get it fixed. And if it doesn’t work again then I did my last try.”
“So?”
“So? I’m scared. I don’t want to go through all that for nothing.”
“It won’t be for nothing. We didn’t come all this way for nothing.”
“But he said he was a last resort doctor. What will we do if it doesn’t work? ..It never works?”
He sighed. “You’re going to give up because you’re scared?”
“No. I’m just scared. I’m not giving up.”
::Sigh:: “Kitty. Have you ever heard of ‘Last Cookie Theory?'”
“No? What’s that?”
“Last Cookie Theory. It means you leave the last cookie on the plate, because you’re too ascared to take it. And then you could have been eating that cookie all along. You could have been enjoying that cookie. There’s no reason you couldn’t have that cookie, but you’re denying yourself the cookie.”
“O.o”
“The surgery is the last cookie. Nobody has denied you the cookie. If you don’t get the surgery, the only one who isn’t taking a chance to help you is yourself.”
“Right. Which means there’s always a chance I could get better, instead of a possibility that I won’t.”
“No. That’s the ledge. If you don’t go, there’s always a chance that you can’t get better, because you won’t get better. Because you can’t do this yourself. Somebody has to do it for you. It’s not a “self” thing. You need to take the cookie.”
::Sigh::
“You’re right. But what if I fail again?”
“You won’t. You’ll heal. And if you don’t heal, there’s still other things we can do. I know there’s still other things we can do because there are still other things that nobody has done yet.”
“But he said he was a last resort guy.”
“He did.”
“So where would we even go after the ‘Last Resort’ guy?”
“Somebody else will help. I refuse to believe there’s no one else. And. We’re going to keep fighting for TPN. So. Maybe that will help you heal this time.”
“Yeah. Take the last cookie. Which is ironic, since I can’t eat cookies.”
“Yeah.”
Alright fine. I’m off the metaphorical ledge. But that doesn’t mean I’m not curled up in a ball as you’re reading this. No shame in being curled up in a ball for a while. Kitties like to be curled up in balls. But I’ll get down there in the morning. Afternoon. Just after noon? Anyway. I’ll be there. I’m doing The Thing!