Uncomfortably Numb

have you heard me screaming? I tried to do it quietly.

Well. Pretty much skipped 2019, didn’t I? Wish I could say that was true outside of the blogosphere, but life is what it is. Yesterday I saw this Tweet and this response and I thought, yes. Immediately followed by, maybe. I began this blog not expecting anyone to find it, and that was ok. I did it for me, and along the way gathered some followers, made some friends, connected with more than I had any right to expect. Mrs Fringe was a space for me to be not just mom/wife/dogwalker/reefer/writer/bitch/feminist/New Yorker, but the sum of those parts; a person (albeit a somewhat anonymous and edited one). It turned out great and perfect in all the ways for a long time, until it wasn’t, so I hit pause. I think I’m hitting the play button again, but life happens, so who knows.

How was your 2019? Mine was overall shit, with some wonderful bright spots. Art Child graduated from high school. Whee, I’m done, done, done with the public school system! That New Thing I was working on? I kept working, wrote to The End, and I’m pretty fucking proud of it. All the old qualifiers apply, no clue if anyone in the industry will like it/want it, but there you have it. I even went to a writers’ conference last summer and pitched it to a few agents, have done some limited querying, getting some interest. We’ll see. Hope for the best, expect the worst, blah blah blah.

The past couple of weeks on Twitter, reading my timeline I’ve just felt old. All these youthful, positive posts cataloguing the past decade in accomplishments, earnestly seeing the beginning of a new decade as something. There have been many New Years where my overriding thought has been wow, this past year kicked my ass. This year is not only not an exception, but I don’t even feel human anymore. When I tried to think about the decade gone, my mind started ticking off medical emergencies. The last 14? 15? years have been a twisted game of lurching from emergency to emergency, and 2019 will take its place up there in the top three. In the hospital with Husband, and then Mother-in-Law, and then Husband, and then Husband, and then Husband, and oh fuck the kids, MIL and I pretty much spent six months alternately holding our breaths and checking his, and then I spent most of the past two months inpatient with him.

All this time immersed in the world of medical interventions and I’ve learned four things really, really well. One: human beings aren’t designed for this level of sustained stress. Two: for every major medical intervention, there is a price to be paid–both physical and psychological–the more complex the intervention the higher the price, and you better believe this isn’t one of those no money down deals, they want that arm, leg, or kidney upfucking front. Three: I know who does or does not have real experience in the world of complex, chronic medical needs within ten seconds; by their understanding–or lack thereof–of what the actual, literal, monetary cost of our fucked American healthcare system is (if you’re reading this and you’re one of those mythical Americans who love your health insurance, all I can say is how nice for you, you’ve lived a charmed life with the luck of good genes), and what actually is/is not realistic to expect in terms of healing and recovery. In this skewed little corner of the world, out of the hospital doesn’t mean all better, it means the immediate risk/benefit of being inpatient tipped to the risk side, because nowhere harbors more antibiotic resistant bacteria than hospitals, so hey, congrats! Now you get to go home and do all this without a kitchen sending the patient three hot, fresh, reasonably nutritious meals a day, no nurses, no wonderful cart down the hall stocked with warm blankets and clean linens, and oh yeah, no teams of doctors coming to round, so multiple doctor appointments across the city weekly. What’s the fourth thing? I have the best kids in the universe, no shit.

I don’t know if any of my old faithful readers still check Mrs Fringe. If so, thank you (and hey, I’m not dead!). If not, that’s ok too. Maybe some new readers will find me. Mostly I’m hoping to blog my way back to the status of human, if that’s still possible.

PS: My camera has permanently decided it no longer wants to partner with my laptop, so for the foreseeable future all photos will be blurry cell pics.


  1. Bless your little soul, mrs. fringe. Lordy lord, you have had one hell of a stretch of awfulness. I know how it has taken its toll on you and I am sorry you guys have had to go through this. I hope 2020 will be kinder to you and yours, my dear.

    As for the rest of it–the blogging, maybe writing or querying–glad for the former, and good luck with the latter, should you continue to try to get your work noticed/sold. It’s a commitment that takes time and energy, both of which can sometimes be in woefully short supply. Plus, one has to be in that particular mindset, which is tough to accomplish when one’s husband is so effing ILL. . .

    So yeah, you have had a rough go, my dear. Couple that with the logistics of getting your husband to and from these appts. now, and let’s not mention idiot in the w.h. who may or may not have just started WW3. . .

    Personally, I can’t let myself go there, or even think of the guy too much right now. Impeached or not, voted out or not, I need some peace of mind so I shall focus on the positive little moments that give me comfort and joy: a passing snow squall, my kitty purring on the couch next to me, sharing an early morning coffee with a beloved friend. . .

    Take good care, mrs. fringe. You’re a precious commodity to a lot of us fringelings.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, love. ❤️ As for the other, well, I can’t even talk about the current evil clown in chief. I’m following the news, but don’t have it in me to blog about politics right now.


  2. Sorry to read about your shitty year but glad to hear you’re on the way back to regular blogland visits. I’ve missed your edifying posts on real life in the USA as opposed to what DT and Fox News spout. I’m in the UK and it looks like it will be a bumpy year (or more) ahead for us. We can commiserate with each other! All the best to you and yours.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Mrs G! Feels like the whole world’s gone around the bend, doesn’t it? Add in personal drama and Australia turning into a hellscape, and it’s too much for any of us individually. Here’s to helping each other navigate this madness. ❤


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