Some Sort of Life Crisis

Hello internet,

Are you there?

No matter, I'll just write this poem here for you whenever you happen to stop by.




The other day I was driving on the highway
And we saw a car fire.
My sister called 911
A firetruck arrived
The fire was extinguished
We went about our day.


But today, I can't help but feel
That my life is that burning car
And I am the driver standing nearby
Helplessly watching it go up in smoke
Uncertain and unaware of where or how to go.

My life is not what I expected or anticipated
Or anywhere near what I would like it to be.

But I am stuck and I don't know how to go where I want.

You're not stuck.

I am. I'm stuck.
I can apply, apply, apply for jobs
And not get them.

I am working a job anyone could get
with a clean background
and a high school diploma.

My college degrees were in vain.
Wasted time. Wasted money.
Loans that seem insurmountable.

I think of that story
With the train
That just thought really hard
And tried really hard
And got over the hill.

I really liked that story as a kid.
I tried to live out that story as I grew up.

But I did not crest the hill.

They will tell you if you try hard enough
You'll get it
But that isn't true.

You've got to have the right stuff.
And I don't.
I don't have the experience.

And I've applied for jobs that I would like
That don't require experience
But if someone else who has experience applies
They will get the job.

So I guess I need to volunteer.
I should have volunteered and interned while I was in school.
I should have done more.

Getting a degree does not guarantee you a job

GETTING A DEGREE DOES NOT GUARANTEE YOU A JOB.

It doesn't even always guarantee you an interview.

I'm not saying college is a waste
It's just you've got to have the experience too.
So you have to volunteer and have a job and get internships
AND study and go to class.

Then maybe you'll be able to get a job that uses your degree.

And suddenly I feel like I've done everything wrong.
I studied hard but that wasn't enough.
I had an internship but that wasn't enough.

And it all kind of boils down to this massive feeling
that
I am NOT enough.

And so my life feels like a car on fire.
And I am twenty-five
And having some sort of life crisis.

If you couldn't tell, I'm feeling down,

Sharon

Twenty-Five Year Olds Don't Get Shingles

When the first rash appeared we thought it was poison ivy. We blamed my dog, who had run through poison ivy in our backyard. Then more rashes appeared. The pain increased. The rashes got worse. We applied calamine lotion. I had washed my skin with dish soap and warm water the first and second day of the rash. It just kept getting worse. New rashes popped up. The rashes blistered. It was more of a burning or a stinging, occasionally a stabbing pain, not the itching that poison ivy was supposed to cause. I washed my sheets and blankets and pillowcase and bath towel and dog. I avoided any clothes that I hadn't washed that I thought might have the oil on them.

Shingles came up at one point. But we discounted it because twenty-five year olds don't get shingles.

On about the 7th or 8th day (a Monday, if you're wondering), my mom called the doctor and told them about the rash and they said they would work me in.

I texted my sister telling her that I was going to the doctor for my rash - if it was shingles, I would have to miss my nephew's baptism.

The nurse did all the normal things (weight, blood pressure, pulse, dissolved oxygen in the blood, temperature - even though I had been in for a regular check up just over a week earlier - before the rashes) before asking why I was there. She asked questions: how long had I had it; where was it; had I been exposed to poison ivy; had I been around anyone with a similar rash; had I had a fever or headache; had I changed detergents or soaps lately; did it itch, burn or sting; had I had chicken pox as a child?

Yes, twice, minor outbreaks when I was two. She took notes on where the rash was - just on the right side? Yes.

She said the doctor would be in in a minute. I knew what the questions were pointing to.

Twent-five year olds don't get shingles.

Soon the P.A. came in. He had seen me the last time I was here and he said something about how it hadn't been long. Then "Ouch." Took a step into the room. "That's shingles."

I hadn't been surprised. I had already composed the facebook status in my head "somehow 25 year old me went out and got shingles." In fact, despite my mental protestations, I had been expecting this.

He asked me why I had taken so long to come in. I told him we were convinced it was poison ivy. He said, "Doubt is the best medicine."

He prescribed an anti-viral (2 pills 5x a day) and a steroid (4 pills for 3 days, 3 pills for 3 days, so on...). He told me the steroid was for my nerves to decrease the inflammation. He told me that if my rashes didn't start to dry up and were reappearing to refill the anti-viral.

He told me if the rash was gone, but I still had pain in the area in four weeks to come back and we would put me on something for nerve pain. Some people who get shingles get a complication called post-heretic neuropathy which means they still have nerve pain after the rash has subsided.

He told me we were more worried about my nerves than the rashes. He told me to avoid pregnant women and young children. The blisters contain the active phase of the virus. He told me to keep it covered in the sun, because the photons can cause scarring. He took careful notes of the rashes's locations. He found me a coupon for the anti-viral. My mom paid (I currently don't have insurance or a job). We went to the pharmacy to fill the prescription.

When I got home, I cried. I was disappointed to miss my nephew's baptism. And even though I was mentally prepared, I really deeply hoped that I had a bad case of poison ivy that could easily be knocked out. And maybe I was a little nervous about developing complications because I had waited seven days to go in when they want you to go in within three.

Twenty-five year olds can and do get shingles.

To be continued . . .

Stay healthy,

Sharon