A Truly Big Meltdown

This past week, I had a huge meltdown, which I’ve already blogged about in The Meltdown Report, except for the final chapter.

This meltdown was caused by a nurse (who I didn't even know) dumping her own personal shit about melanoma on me, when I was in for treatment. Unprofessional, you bet. But it took me days to get over it.

This was a five-friend meltdown, as opposed to the melanoma meltdown, which was a two-friend meltdown. What I mean is, I had to talk (i.e, rant, rage, cry, and, occasionally, talk) to five friends and my therapist before I got through it.

This was also a meltdown which required lots of personal caretaking, but I’m getting good at that:

On Day 4 of the meltdown, I came home after a trip to my doctor’s clinic for antibiotics and whiled away the rest of a truly gorgeous afternoon cuddled in the backseat of my Corvair (1964, red, convertible) in the backyard with the top down to enjoy the sun and the doors open to enjoy the company of my dogs.

For my comfort, I equipped myself with two pillows, a book (Elizabeth George), a bottle of vitamin water, and a pint of tapioca pudding.

Meltdowns are exhausting. Once all the negative energy is dissipated, you need to collapse. And not talk any more.

@ Jeanne Sather 2007.