Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader,

I am on time this week.

I confess, I have been late too often on my confessions.  I decided to be on time.  Much of life is deciding to do something then doing it, isn't it.  Funny how that works.

It's been a weird week with me dressed as a man to the inside of a hospital, I better let you know what's up.  To the confessional--

I confess on Friday night during a full moon my family insisted I go to the ER because one of my pupils was noticeable larger than the other.  Noticeable.  I looked as if I had wonko eye, as if I was Bill the Cat.

Given my history with optic neuritis (where I lost the vision in each of my eyes--first the right then the left--during a six week period a couple years ago) and recent minor head injury from my mountain biking, they felt I should just go in to check things out.

Dear Insurance Bill... You are the reason I did not want to go in.  -- But alas, I was talked into it because people were freaking out over my new look.

Dear Cat Scan, I love you for your quietness, you are not the techno sound of the MRI, you are a soft whisper of wind.

After everything from my eye being numbed then dilated (I felt as if I was a character in Clockwork Orange), it seems I am okay, just a funky freak of nature (though I still have an upcoming eye exam pending to give me the full A-OK), but mostly okay. I feel okay and I can still see.  My pupils look normal.  And I now have a wealth of material for new poems all revolving around the interesting ER details and things I overheard (I confess I almost went running for the doors when I heard "bacterial meningitis!"  Sheesh!)

Dear Doctors -- You impress me to no end.

~

And the man thing, well, that came the next night.  A Halloween party, which I was not going to miss despite the eye issue the previous night.

I confess I love to dress up like a man.  I'm not sure I realized this until this current Halloween costume, but I can definitely understand why cross-dressing is so much fun.  That said, if you looked at my normal everyday clothes of blue jeans & plain t-shirts, I am pretty much a cross-dresser year round, minus the fake facial hair and side burns.

So here are a couple photos of me dressed like rocker Bret Michaels for my friend's yearly Halloween party.

And yes, I stayed in character all night.

I love this photo because it looks as if I came with this guy, but no, he just happened to be wearing a Poison t-shirt and became my instant back-up band.  I also love how my hand looks superimposed on that photo.

This was my "no paparazzi" photo.

By the way, up until a day ago, I had never seen the Rock of Love - ( eek, what a show, I couldn't even watch the whole thing, I felt as if my eyes were burning.) But learned about Bret Michaels when I was watching Donald Trump's show, The Apprentice because Cyndi Lauper was on it (and I love her).  And three things I noticed about him -- he was a hard worker, had good manners and was kind.  Three things I so like in people.

I confess though, it's mostly kindness that determines my like for people.

So that's me this week - Rockstar and hospital patient.  Let the good times roll...

Amen.

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