It’s a good thing to talk. Talk about stuff.
I go back and forth when it comes to the above statement. Sometimes…I don’t want to talk about stuff, because I know, mid story, it’ll make my cry. At the same time, if I don’t, the tears that need to be “cried” simply remain inside. That’s not good either.
This weekend was one of catching up with friends-good ones.
On Friday evening, it was date night with my close friend and confidant, Mikey. Mikey and I have known each other and immediately connected as friends soon after we met each other back at our first job in a ritzy Italian grocery store. He was 14 and I was 16. Mikey is one of those friends that I can tell absolutely anything and everything. My most embarrassing of stories, even my secret embarrassments..nothing is too embarrassing for me to tell Mike. What I also like about our relationship is the way it has evolved. Back then, we were kids with not a worry in the world. We spent most of our waking moments together, whether it was going to the movies, out to dinner/dessert, or just aimlessly driving through the streets without a destination or a care in the world. Now, we’re adults. We have responsibilities, and oftentimes these responsibilities prevent us from getting together as regularly as we did. In spite of this, what I do know is that things will be exactly as they were when we last saw each other, regardless of how many hours, days, or months have passed.
Anyhow, Mikey came by to pick me up so we could go and do one of the many things we enjoy doing together- grabbing some dessert. I wouldn’t believe the following story if I hadn’t been there-as we drove down the street, did we NOT see the car of the gentleman I was dating and have been whining about these last few posts driving almost right beside us??
“That’s his car!!” I yelled at Michael. He, rightfully so, instantly thought I was crazy. Yes Flo, that car, which looks like a million other cars, just so happens to be HIS car? I didn’t have my glasses on, but I could see some distinct characteristics which lead me to believe that this was, in fact, HIS car. The back of the vehicle was damaged from a previous fender bender. The license plate wasn’t one from my city-it was from another city from another province…just like HIS.
We both got caught at a red light. There was another car between us, but it was clear it was him. I noticed he had a passenger. I’ll admit it-I went mad for a moment and contemplated jumping out of the car, opening the passenger door of his car, dragging the occupant out, and spreading her across the street like jelly on toast. “Relax, it’s a guy” Mikey told me. Even if it wasn’t…I really had no jurisdiction to attack his passenger. But, I won’t lie-the thought went through my mind. Since HIS car was on Mikey/the driver’s side, I turned my head to look out the passenger window in an attempt to not look “obvious”. I say this because as I noticed the vehicle and told Mike, we certainly did…adjust our speed to get a closer look. Very obvious indeed.
Anyhow, we went our separate ways and headed off to enjoy our dessert. What I enjoyed about talking to Mikey is the fact that he gives my advice based on his own experiences. He relayed advice of his own, as well as advice given to him from others when he needed it. I was tired that night, but was sad when the night ended, as I could have stayed there and chatted with Mikey for hours.
Last night, myself and my friend Sadia met up for dinner, dessert, and, of course, debriefing. She also another amazing person to speak to because her experiences and thoughts have been similar to mine, but in a different way than they are with Mikey. See, Sadi and I met in the hospital system, as we both had kidney issues and both eventually received kidney transplants. She knows what it’s like to go through these emotions, especially with the health aspect attached to it. Since meeting, we’ve gone on many adventures throughout the city as well. Again, one of my favourite things to do. Trying new restaurants and just “hanging out” is something I really enjoy doing with Sadi. She’s also someone that I can share my inner most secrets with-and trust me-there are few people I can do that with.
She also gave me some perspective based on her own experiences. In a previous post, I talked about wishing that I was the woman I was a number of years back-I was “tougher”, “stronger”, and “less willing to put up with shit”. There was one factor that I didn’t consider that Sadi brought to my attention: Prednisone.
Prednisone is a medication I’ve spoken about before. It’s an evil drug side-effect wise, but works well to control my lupus symptoms as well as minimize the chances of rejection of my kidney. But, that said, take a look at these side effects:
- blurred vision
- decrease in the amount of
- fast, slow, pounding, or irregular heartbeat or pulse
- mood changes
- noisy, rattling breathing
- numbness or tingling in the arms or legs
- pounding in the ears
- shortness of breath
- swelling of the fingers, hands, feet, or lower legs
- trouble thinking, speaking, or walking
- troubled breathing at rest
- weight gain
Being on a medication like this coupled with some of the low lows I’ve been feeling…it could very likely be an issue as well-one that should be explored.
It’s ok to be sad, but it’s also ok to reach out to those you love when you are feeling sad. This is still a concept that I’m struggling with, but I’m getting better.