Good times

Lately, my health has been like the New York Mets: beat.

It's been so up and down the past two or three months that friends, coworkers and family are constantly asking me the same question: How are you feeling?

I can't really say that I know how to answer. Though I've been fielding this question for over 23 years (DRAMATIC!), the answer has always eluded me.

"Fine, thanks" is the usual reply.

Of course, this is usually a lie. But I don't want to bum people out. I mean, what's the alternative?

"Well, actually, I'm bleeding out my ears. My toenails have turned green and I'm emitting a stank worthy of Fresh Kills. I've lost my eyesight and can't read Braille because my fingers are teeny-tiny! But my attitude's great!"

Usually, I give a succinct answer. But sometimes, sometimes--I over share. In a big way.
I've talked about this here. And since this little episode, I've tried to stop. But sometimes I open my mouth and cannot shut it. (Okay, fine, I can never actually shut my mouth.)

This is mostly because the question makes me uncomfortable. I'm not sure how much people want to know when they ask "How are you feeling?". Do they want a simple, quick response so that they can feel like they were polite without having to be grossed out? (Believe me, when I tell you how I have a pus coming out of my face like lava out of volcano, people DO get grossed out.) Or do they genuinely want to know the gritty details, the flesh and bones of the situation, the "real" answer?

I don't think I'll ever be able to tell.

And it's just another frustrating part of this life.