2001 has been a year of loss for me.

I lost a best friend. I lost my grandmother, also a friend. I lost a future I had dreamed for myself. I lost the illusion of my immortality.

I look to 2002 as being a year of growth, at least, that is what I wish for.

cassie  1 Jan 2002

I graduated college this year, having completed over double the credits I needed to graduate and still getting a degree in NOTHING . . . Just a general pat-you-on-the-back-and-say-goodbye degree.

I finally broke up the nine-month relationship that had been terrible from day four, when I first tried to have a conversation with the girl. Sex is great . . . conversation is better.

I made a choice about what to do with my life. I moved to Salt Lake City and enrolleed in the Utah College of Massage Therapy. You laugh now, but it's perfect for me. I love to touch, and if I can touch people, heal them, and give my life a little security all at once, I have no problems. Just don't call me a masseuse. A masseuse works in a parlor and does things that aren't entirely health related (not to mention illegal in the state of Utah . . . just like everything else).

I imported an old roomie to Salt Lake. He still doesn't pay the rent, but he's a good kid, and he's better than nothing. It's kinda nice to have part of the tribe with me.

I could never get the words out of my head: "I don't want a witch raising my kids." She'd said that almost two years ago, but they pressed on me. I finally talked to her again, and I realized she wasn't the person I had created in my mind, and she never had been.

I worked for an environmental lobbying group again. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be working for a cause.

My neighbor is beautiful. She's warm and kind and intelligent and wants to heal people with her hands, just like I do. When we met, she had a boyfriend. I then relegated myself to that position of the guy she goes to when she needs a shoulder. When they broke up, I almost flew off my porch and off into the Wasatch sunrise. Unfortunately, I'm still the guy she goes to . . . I hate that. December 22nd, the last day of classes. We went to the bar and got truly and disgustingly drunk. I hung around at ther house until everyone left, and for some reason it seemed like a good idea to tell her everything . . . alcohol does that. So at 3:30 am I spilled my guts all over the floor for god and everyone to see. She cried. I still don't know why. She comes home tomorrow. I don't know what will happen, but all I know is everything changes . . .

Maybe in '02, something will change for the better

Tom Edrington {amergin_kvina@hotmail.com}  3 Jan 2002

I had been having extreme pain (doubled over and screaming until the vicadin set in) in my abdomen since March. In early May I had an out-patient laproscopic surgery to remove a cyst from my left ovary, remove endometriosis, and remove my appendix. I was supposed to recover in a few days, but I felt terrible. I kept calling my doctor and going back in because it didn't seem to me like I was healing the way she said I should be, but she kept telling me I was fine and to just wait it out.

Finally one morning, June 1st, I started throwing up and couldn't keep down the vicadin that had been keeping the pain bearable. I screamed and threw up for hours until my girlfriend could come home and take me to the emergency room. I just wanted to have them give me a shot of anti-nausea or some painkiller so I could go home and go to sleep but the doctor said I had a temperature of 103. He said I would have to check in to the hospital and it looked like my previous surgery had gotten infected.

They spent about 12 hours trying to decide whether I should have surgery or anti-biotics might take care of it, but then I got pneumonia too so they decided to operate on what they now realized was a staph infection.

I spent two weeks in the hospital recovering from them opening me up (with a huge cut down the middle of my stomach, about 10 inches long) and removing my left ovary, washing my intestines, and removing more endometriosis. I got over the pneumonia after they drained my lungs.

I spent 2 months recovering at home before I could go back to work. I was totally dependent on my new girlfriend the whole time that I was sick and had no income except for a few hundred dollars from disability insurance.

More than anything, all that has happened this year has convinced me that I'm not immortal. Not that I thought I was immortal, but to really be confronted with the fact that my body can and sometimes does fail, that I am not totally independent, that I can't fix everything that comes my way has been huge for me and helped me to see the ways that we must rely on each other. I can set my goals and work hard to achieve them, but I need to enjoy life along the way and make the best of what the universe tosses to me.

Mulberry  3 Jan 2002

I found a job, and started half way through June. Hurrah! I was at a real company, with real benefits and a real salary, and lots of room for creativitiy. I celebrated my last "free" week, and started in earnest.

The joy was short lived. The doctor said Melanoma. Surgery was recommended, sometime in July.

One {one@absquatulate.com}  8 Jan 2002

{ add your experience }