Stomach pain... again

I was sick with the stabbing pains in the stomach again Tuesday.  Then I was ok Wednesday, and today I felt sick and nauseous.  Maybe it was the redline energy drink.  But I puked up blood, and that worried me a little.  I don't have an ulcer, so I don't know why I'd be puking up blood.

My dad is in the hospital because of complications due to diverticulitus, which he has had to deal with for most of his adult life.  I've always assumed that the stomach pains I get sometimes are also due to diverticulitus, but I've never had it confirmed.  I don't think puking up blood is a side effect. 

I guess I'll just see what happens.  I feel ok now.

A dream - a triptych

She had a baby in her lap and she was flying a plane down the highway.  I don't know who they were, if they were actually anyone at all, but my love for them gave them substance and made them real, and I wanted them to escape.  I sat there with them, quietly urging them on, but I was a ghost and they knew I was really very far away from them.  Then the others came and told her to stop, to land the plane, to quit running, and to give up.  She said that he had told her to keep flying, no matter what, and to stick low to the road, and that everything would be ok.  The others were persistent though, and they said that if she wouldn't stop, they meant to make her stop.  I shouted silently at her to go, go go!  Pull up!  And she pulled up, but she didn't give it any throttle, and the plane jerked up abruptly, and blue sky dominated the front windshield.  The plane stalled and the nose began to drop, and I told her to let off of the throttle and when the ground was visible again, to give it half throttle and to pull up gently on the yoke until the plane leveled out, and then to gently increase the throttle until it was full.  The ground rushed up and she gave it too much throttle and yanked back on the yoke, and we rocketed towards the sky, climbing higher and higher, until I knew that we would stall again and this time we wouldn't be able to recover.  When we finally lost all lift, the plane floated for a few seconds in mid-air, and for a while there was no weight, and it was quiet and peaceful.  Then we fell and began to spin violently, and the doors blew open and we were sucked out and we were all falling, falling, and we could see the plane tumbling below us.  I thought, they have to get back on the plane and do like I said, half throttle and gently pull up... but I knew it was impossible, and that they would keep falling and when they hit the ground everything I loved would die.  I watched as they fell, and I saw a parachute erupt, and she had the baby wrapped tightly in her arms, and I thanked God.  As they floated down I prayed... don't let go of her, don't let go of her, please, just don't let go, keep her in your arms and you'll both be ok, and they disappeared into fog.

When my thoughts congealed again I was sitting at the breakfast table with Kathy in the thin fog.  "So, are you ever going to speak with my daughter again?" she asked me.  "Speak with who?" I replied.  "I don't understand.  What did you say?"  The fog made everything indistinct and seemed to take the 'oomph' out of the moment.  It soaked into everything, diluting reality, leaving behind an essence of absurdity with only vague outlines to describe objects and people and the passing of time.  I thought the effect was funny, and I laughed because I didn't know why.  I looked at Emma, and she said, "You two are silly.  You love each other, but you're both too silly to understand what that means.  Stop being so silly.  You're not playing a game, and love isn't a prize you can win."  I couldn't help it though.  I knew that if I opened a dictionary, the definition of every word I looked up would be 'absurd'.  I laughed because there wasn't anything else to do, and then I looked up, and through the fog I could dimly see Leah sitting across from me on a tall stool, and her legs were covered with tattoos, and she was looking down on me with this nonchalant grin.  Then things didn't seem funny anymore, and I suddenly understood what sadness meant.

After that I wanted to go home to my apartment.  Ed drove me there, and I got out of the truck, and on the way up the stairs, Nick confronted me.  He stood before me and he laughed at me and pushed me, and said that he wanted to fight.  I tried to go around him, but he wouldn't let me.  I ran away from him, and he kept jumping in front of me, and pushing me, and trying to get me to fight him.  I sort of remembered that we had once been friends... it was a dim memory, but I grabbed onto it, and I tried to tell him that we were friends, but he just laughed and pushed me again.  He wouldn't let me go.  He wanted to fight.  He pushed me and wouldn't let me go and wanted to fight.  He pushed and he wouldn't and he wanted, and I became afraid when I realized that it would never end.

Sometimes I wonder if people are surprised that I'm still going to church at St. Maximus, after everything. I wonder what they think of this strange creature that got dragged into their church that continues to linger long after the fact. I wonder what people think. It's weird... I'm still there, and I'm alone and I'm afraid, but that's who I am.  I wonder what's going to happen.  I wonder about a lot of things.  I wish I could fast forward my life sometimes, so I could hurry up and see where things lead.   I had a dream last night that made me very sad.