  I reentered the mouth of the dragon today. A $2.5 million dragon breathing helium in the bottom floor of the XIMED building in La Jollas Scripps Hospital Complex. I came prepared with the sharpest weapon available; a couple of magic beans given to me by mom this morning. No stalks sprouting from these no, theyre Ativan. And I took them both. So long as my head rests outside of the beasts mouth, I figure Im fine.
Its when Im staring at its throat only inches from my nose that I begin to really flip out into a terrifying anxiety attack. Happened twice before, so grant me allowance to medicate my sweet self before hand. Yet this one only required me to be in there up to my waste/chest. And still, I definitely needed them. Its all in my head, I know. But its too much for me to forget my irrational panic brought on by the fantasy ( a wider use of the word) that the thing will suck me in and trap me in there. Shit, its 2.5 million in equipment. Who knows if GE installed teeth?! Hm the toothed vagina imagery is ripe here.
Let it go, I beg you. youre talking to a lover of being inside. I got it done, and Im all set to move ahead with things. Of course, things didnt run so smoothly /outside/ of the actual procedure. Where should I begin? I woke at 2am in a discomfort, an ill-feeling of anxiety and reflux. Chomped through about ten TUMS and tried to get back to sleep. Nothing. I tried a shot of liquor. Not even phased. I tossed and turned without more than 5min of consecutive shut-eye until the 5:30 alarm went off.
I slinked into the shower and puked from exhaustion (yall know my stomach and its reaction to stress). I left the house at 6:10am with a bagel breakfast and a big bottle of acqua frizzante so as not to cause more acidity in my stomach that coffee would surely bring. And I hit the 78. east to the 15. and then I heard the traffic report. A small brush fire backing things up especially bad.
And some police activity on 9th and Auto Park Way. I got in line and flipped on a CD after Id heard the NPR spiel. Watching the clock as we rolled along in 1st gear I was beginning to realize even this early on into my travels to La Jolla. I was never going to make a 7:30am appointment. And sure enough, it took me an hour and a half to get myself there. Late enough that they passed me up and went ahead with the next scheduled patient. I stood still as the office girls told me as much, breathing in the desire to weep and blowing it back out.
A reschedule. This time for 4:30pm. Get in the car. Call mom from the mobile. The expected (and rejected! ) response that insinuated that I blew it and should have left my house at 5:30 instead of sleeping in. not what I needed to hear, not anything that would reach any ends but to make me feel more punishment. I took the phone away from my ear for just a second, the impulse was so strong to hang up on her.
But the plan was to hang with her after the appt for some goddamned baby shower shopping. The thought of getting to see my dogs was just enough to keep me in the conversation. Id hang out there. And Id take a nap with Annie. And then Id come on down again and get the fucker done with. Another hour-30 to get back up to school after it ended. And as youd expect, Im f0ing tuckered out. Yet I have pictures. And a persistent desire to better my blog interface. So vain. 
