The View From Upside Down

After a small break, to regroup, I decided it was time to write again.
The wrist... well this last week I had the appointment with my doctor. He didn't see the bone scan as a problem with the cartilage. Instead, to his eyes the afflicted area is where the pins were in my wrist. But that doesn't change the fact that he's at a loss as to what is going on. He's concerned with the pain. For that I am very grateful that my doctor is looking out for me. I just wish there was a definitive answer to what is wrong. It makes things a whole lot easier (for instance I finally had a talk today with my director, for the play I am in this December. But I'll talk more about this in just a moment). So now the whole plan with the doctor is that I'm scheduled for a second opinion with one of the other doctors in his office. I keep telling myself that this is good because now there is two sets of eyes and two brains now working on this. I just hate the fact that I have a mystery injury. (Although I'm not alone in this area since daddy and I have pretty similar health and medical experiences--we don't get the common stuff, it's always the tough ones that stump doctors.) This will all happen at the beginning of November. Other than that, and depending on what the second doctor thinks, the next plan is another MRI. There's no talk of another surgery yet. It's just disenheartening when you can see just how baffled your doctor is. Because it's bad enough when you are personally at a loss. But when you see that the expert is at a loss, all of a sudden no one is in control. The only thing that keeps me sane is my faith in God. Because my history has proven time and time again that even when things are out of my control, they have never been out of God's control. Just like at many other times, I just wish I knew what God knows/sees. Having a little bit more knowledge would help out quite a lot!
Okay, so the director... It was hard enough the first time, to tell her (give her the heads up) that something was going on medically with my wrist and I wasn't too sure what to expect. But there's no way I'm going to put the production in a position where at the last minute I can't fulfill my obligation. And that pain of being honest hit me again today, albeit not as bad at the when I first talked to the director about this. It was just hard today because she told me how much that she loves working with me. And if I knew what was happening with my wrist I could have told her more and help her think ahead and plan. But I can't. My two scheduled doctors' appointments are the first two weeks of November. The MRI could be another week or two after that. Worst case scenario would be a surgery scheduled shortly after the MRI. That would put that at about the time of opening weekend, if not the week before. So you see the delima. And I really do want this role. But I guess I should be focusing on the best case scenario which would be that nothing happens until after the musical. And the director said that she just didn't want to have me in a position of being stressed out about having to be stage presentable. This makes me very thankful that I have a wonderful director--while I'm concerned on what will be best for the production, she keeps turning it back to what is good for me and my health. She is a great woman! But I just have to trust that this too will just work out.
On to my dating/social life.... This was my first week with Equally Yoked. It's been a little while since I've been at this weird level of mixed excitement and nervousness. I'll admit to it--because I am able to, I have checked out the "competition". I was curious. With the dating sites I was with before I had no idea what types of women that the men I was matched with were seeing. After all I never did see myself as the pretty girl in grade school, junior high or even high school. In college I thought I had a little bit of a cuteness factor. It was all the analyzing in combination with what I knew what my height was. I didn't think that I could compare with the button cute short little things that just oozed with damsel-in-distress-femininity. I learned a few years ago that I don't have to be the damsel-in-distress. I just have to be me. Frankly I have never seen the beauty and confidence come out of me until the beginning of this last summer, when I drastically changed my hair coloring. I guess it's just the fact that I went with a style that is not "fashionable" but I pull off remarkably well--it's done something for my confidence I guess. Now I get to test drive it in a large social setting. I have a great picture on line. The picture though, has only gotten the attention of one man (at this moment). And this is where all the nerves come in. He's 48 and has two children, 19 and 17. I'm nervous because I'm closer in age to his children than I am with him. And it begs the question--what is it that he's thinking? I mean 18 years is a big difference in age for me now that I think about it. I mean after all my parents are 53. Sure there have been times where people (like hospital staff) thought that I was married to my dad (for whatever reason that was about). I'm okay with the thought of dating a man in his early 40's. But once I start thinking of even mid-40's I get nervous. Maybe it's because I've never wanted to be a trophy wife. I've enjoyed having a brain and personality. I don't want to just be dangled from the arm as proof of masculinity. Besides that, I really want to have children of my own and men that much older are not generally thinking about children at all. The other thing that makes me nervous is the fact that I've also begun looking at men a few years younger than me. And just the though of being a handful of years older myself--I just don't know if I have what it takes to be a cougar. And I never thought I would ever put me as the noun in the same sentence with being a cougar! It's foreign territory!! Anyway, I need away from this subject.
So this week I went to the bible study. And the one cliche that I run into the vast majority of the time when people learn my name, I got asked yet again. So, are you really a princess then? This time I fought hard to not get irritated by it or make some smart ass comment steeped with sarcasm. Instead, I went a different route and said that my family accuse me of being one. (Which they have a time or two.) That produced laughs all around the group. I have to admit that made me feel a little better about the question. I'd rather have people laugh than get the wrong impression about me. Anyway, as it turns out, that question was asked by the man who lead this week's bible study, and turns out to be a single pastor in the program as well. Not so bad, but the tone of the whole study kind of irritated me because a lot of the opinions being thrown out were contrary to what I've learned and studied myself. And one thing that gets me angry quicker than anything else is when Christians rationalize (or sound like it) that God wants all believers to live simply, maybe not poor, but not rich either. There is no scriptural basis for that thought. That was the tenure being taken with the Old Testament scriptures being read. So when my time came where I could speak, I brought everything into context with the Old Testament thinkology of the Israelites--that wealth was the outward sign of God's blessing on believers. That the wealthy had to be righteous. One of the men in the group took notes at one point, suddenly interested in what was being said. The pastor perked up--after I was finished, he went off of what I said to expound on a thought or two. One of the ladies, who works in the office and previously led a study, her eyes lit up as well. I kind of wanted to kick myself afterward, because whenever I speak up like that, there's no hiding in the corners for me, no blending in. As if I ever blended into anything. But this was my first group activity, and I couldn't last and hour and half without opening my mouth. But I think the true reason behind my wanting to kick myself is the compliment I received after I got done speaking. The pastor looked intently at me and told me that I was indeed a princess because of the manner in which I spoke. The way that he phrased it did not come out the way that he intended it to come out. I saw the look and knew the meaning that the laid behind the phrasing that did come out. The pastor did a little shuffle to make the correction--that God being King, I spoke like His true daughter, a princess. One of the other men helped with the correction, by saying that we were all princesses. Getting his footing back, and in attempt to incorporate humor, the pastor said that the man was definitely a princess. The man then continued the joke by commenting on how he needed to find his pink tutu. There were a couple of laughs and the subject drastically changed directions.
For other group outings, I have one planned for tomorrow at a corn maze. Another one in a couple of weeks for an evening sail. I need to get plans turned in for an outing to the EMP/Sci-Fi Museum. And then I'm thinking about continuing with the weekly bible studies (despite the uncomfortable moment at this last one). And we will see what will happen next. I just want to increase my social life and activity. I just need out of the house and meet people. I guess I can safely say that I am indeed meeting new people. Now, just to find the man that I've been waiting for all these years.