“Just waiting on the other shoe to drop” refers to anticipating a typically unpleasant event. It comes from the crowded living quarters on the east coast when, at night, an upstairs neighbor would be retiring for the night and drop a shoe on the thinly-insulated floor serving as a ceiling to the person below, probably waking them. At that point, said lower neighbor would just wait for the other shoe to come off before trying to go back to sleep. Given the cramped conditions in plenty areas outside of the US during the industrial revolution, I wouldn’t be surprised if similar phrases existed in Europe or originated there.
History lesson aside, the whole dropped shoe metaphor has pretty much been my life for the beginning of 2018. In my last non-horsey post, I was talking about this
long-ass-fucking-random-genetic-curse condition called a UPJ that has somehow gone undetected for all of my 24 years and is now demanding all attention be paid to it. Never mind we’re coming up on the three year anniversary of me diagnosed with narcolepsy – that’s old news! – now we’ve moved from neurology on to the world of urology and surgeries to really spice shit up.
So early January I had a stent placed to temporarily help with the problem, and to give us time to figure out what to do next. I’ve since met back with urologist, and as expected, my only option is pretty much to have corrective surgery. Fortunately, we were able to pick a time that will still allow me to be in one of my best friend’s wedding in June, and also keep my job since my other coworker will be done with her spring semester of college and able to cover the 2-3 weeks I’m out of commission. Not so fortunately, pushing this thing out to May means my stent will be well beyond it’s expiration (of course they’re only good for 3 months, and I need 4), so I’ll be having another outpatient surgery to replace the one I have in early April.
Also, with all of this unexpected health business (I THOUGHT WE WERE PAST THIS BODY) the whole moving out thing? Yea, it lasted all of two and a half weeks before I very, very veryyy begrudgingly realized that health and financial wise, being back home with my mom is better right now.
On the one hand, it feels like I can’t catch a break. With disgusting weather (and being hyper-vigilant on how I’m feeling with this crazy flu season) I didn’t lesson last week, and this week my trainer is on vacation in Florida, so that’s two weeks off. But on the other hand, I’ve been lucky enough to have an unexpected person come into my life recently whose let me in on the litter of puppies her rescue dog turned out to be pregnant with when she got her.
Precious right? And definitely stress-reducing (at least for me, who doesn’t live with them). Life’s a mixed bag, as usual.