I felt the room shift, as if a camera had panned hard to the left and stopped. It always feels strange. Like an out of body experience of sorts. “Are you still here?”. My gaze found Beatrice as she looked back at me unblinking. Where did I go? Why did I go? or the better question to ask is why do I go somewhere at all? I have an awareness of the room and her words. I am not gone completely, though she must see a difference because she often asks where I have gone. I really don’t know. It feels off and disconcerting. as the focus returns and I return to the present my mind reels a bit. The transition back doesn’t feel good at all. though I never sense the leaving. I never catch that. Maybe it is too fast, or too subtle. or is it on such an unconscious level that I do not control it enough to sense it happening? I would hazard to guess it is a defense, though it doesn’t happen at the hardest moments. Pain is not the trigger. I have sat few many a painful session wishing I could step away somehow. There is some trigger though. Just as there is a trigger for the suicidal feelings and thoughts. I think it is the complete and utter sensation of being trapped. When everything is impossible and there are no answers. No fix, or not an easy one. One might say I am predictable? As I sat staring at the GP this afternoon listening to her tell me things I already knew my mind wandered off into images and dark places. I walked out of her office unable to find the energy to go to the pharmacy and start battling over nexium. I know it is what I should have done and needed to do. Instead I drove home to start making more doctors appointments. But that same sad trapped feeling followed me. As I started the search for a new GI doc. Because I no longer have good insurance I cannot go back to my old docs I trust. I don’t have the means to pay out of pocket to return to them though I want nothing more to sit across from one of them. He’s a shorter balding guy with a reassuring manner. No bullshit and no nonsense. He has never pulled any punches and has given me very straightforward feedback on what I should do. He directed my care all the way thru surgery and after. As I talked to yet another drs office receptionist who gave me dates in April I wanted to throw the phone, scream, cry. I know if I picked up the phone I could get in to see my old dr within the week. The repercussions of the insurance disaster are far reaching and continue on well after it happened. I don’t have a choice now. I sit and wait. The GP warned me the insurance wasn’t going to cover the nexium, and she said maybe a GI dr would have better luck with them. that is nice. since it is more than two weeks till I have an appointment and the only med that has half a shot of working is being denied. so in the interim I can continue my diet of ever over the counter stomach remedy out there and hope the gastritis settles. Adding another wrench into this mess is the meloxicam that keeps me upright and functioning is probably making matters worse right now. I didn’t think it was that bad until the GP had her hands on me and I was flinching. Amazing how we can get used to such a degree of pain on a daily basis. I knew it was going on. I had more than enough symptoms to warrant a drs visit but I was just so lost in my head. I didn’t want to go and hear what I knew she would say. It just worked out that I had a routine 3 month follow up today. She sat urged me to find a GI dr quickly. yeah, um not so much. and if it starts bleeding go to the hospital. I’m just fucking tired and frustrated. oh, and lets add the stomach issues. I forced myself to go run as it couldn’t possibly be any worse than sitting in the house miserable. Amazingly enough it was a beautiful evening though cold as shit. I ran and thought about life. I thought about death. I thought about ailments and surgeries. I thought about a lot of things. I can’t say I returned feeling better, but I was happy I got out in the crisp frigid air and moved. It is always that way. To run is to be. It is to just move from point a to b using just your body and your mind. It is a meditative practice for me at this point having long passed the habit mark. it isn’t just a habit anymore. It is a need. When I don’t run my body and mind feel shitty. I feel absolutely crappy. Even worse than I feel on a given day. so on a day like today I forced myself to go because I knew if I didn’t the day would get worse. sure, the stomach stuff was still there, and the stress of life and death was ongoing, but at least I did something that I felt I had some control over.