hurricane stew

I grew up on a barrier island off the coast of Savannah, Georgia.  Naturally there were plenty of hurricanes and we would evacuate to our friends' house that was about 40 feet above sea level, hoping that this was going to be enough.  Fortunately I never lived in Savannah for a direct hit, but I remember the food drives and things like that occurring after hurricanes in other places.  Apparently they make something called "hurricane stew" to feed people, which basically means that they throw into a giant pot whatever they have, no concern about the edibility of the final product.  I'm not sure how true this is, especially since I've never spoken with anyone who's actually eaten a hurricane stew, but I like the idea.  

Right now my mind is a bit of a hurricane stew.  Okay, my mind is usually like a hurricane stew, but whatever.  It feels like there are a bunch of things thrown into the pot that just don't go together.  There just ain't no harmony, man.

On the one hand, I have climbing.  Like most of my friends, I am obsessed with climbing.  Being better, not being too hard on myself, arranging for partners and thinking about the things I'd like to do.  

Next up, graduate school.  I have scheduled my qualifying exam for December 8, and most people start studying about 6-8 weeks ahead of time.  I have my committee and have begun to organize the topics, but I haven't even begun to write a proposal.  I know what I am going to write about, but haven't hunkered down and put pen to paper.  In addition, I have a manuscript I'm trying to write that is a collaboration with a math genius, and I feel like a complete idiot when I ask him questions about what he did with my data.  I'm also making some final revisions on another manuscript that was submitted and returned with suggestions.  Graduate school has vast potential to make one feel inferior.  As does rock climbing...hmmm.  I seem to choose men who make me feel inferior as well.  Shit.

Health.  As anyone who's followed this blog knows, I have ms.  But much to my delight (sarcasm, sorry), the radiologist reported a "mass" on my thyroid on the last MRI.  I'm lucky enough to get a few MRIs a year to keep tabs on the lesions, and it was a bonus to see something weird with my thyroid.  I had an ultrasound on my thyroid yesterday, and I should get the radiological report today.  Cancer is not likely, but is a possibility.  In addition, my fingers are trembling in a weird way as I type this.  My legs tremble.  Is this MS or am I just tired?  

Relationship.  Dr. Freesolo is in the valley, and has a potential new love interest.  'nuff said.  I'm not sure whether I should be a friend and be supportive of everything, or if I should just practice some serious avoidance strategies.  

Family.  For whatever reason, my relationship with my parents has been strained lately.  I haven't even told them about the exciting thyroid discovery.  It's stressful.

I am reluctant to do the "woe is me" thing, and to wave my hands at the heavens and say "how much can one person take?!"  but seriously, how much can one person take?  The answer it a lot.  People can take a lot.  Far more than what I am dealing with at the moment.  And that is scary.  Taking all of those things separately, they are all cliche, all have been done before.  I always wrestle with the "I'm so lucky and it could be worse" and the "this fucking sucks, man." 

Hurricane stew.  I love this analogy.  On the other hand, hurricane stew may have been a lifeline for those who had lost everything, so maybe it's not entirely appropriate.