With Most Respectful Thanks To Sir Elton John

It has been almost a year since I last posted. During that time, I quit my job (see last entry, although there were other reasons too); started eating wheat again and eventually became much sicker; John resigned from his teaching job. We pulled our retirements. We thought we were going to move to California, and didn’t. John still doesn’t have a job and I’m looking into trying to get SS disability (so we have very little money). Nevertheless we got a dog, a lovely smooth collie rescue from Athens. We named her Asia. The girls appear to be mostly fine, but who knows. They’ve seen that we are under a lot of stress, and I have been in bed much more lately.

I am extremely anemic (possibly from My Year of Wheat) and can’t tolerate iron supplements, so I went in today for my first infusion. I began thinking about “Rocket Man” for some reason, iron pumping into my blood while I waited. I got a little teary allowing myself to relate to the song’s doomed sense of isolation, and new lyrics wrote themselves to the chatter of nurses and clicking of machines.
Rocket Girl
He put the kids to bed last night
All day long, nine p.m.
As I was sedated and in pain
In my cocoon den
I miss my family so much, I miss my friends
It’s lonely in this dark place
Where dreams wilt and end
And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Til relief brings me round again to find
I’m just a shadow of the girl they love
Oh no, no no, I’m a rocket girl
Rocket girl, burning out her fuse up here alone
Sick in a daze is not a way to raise your kids
In fact it fucking sucks
But he is there to raise them, even if you’re dead
And all this medicine, most don’t understand
I need it all, seven days a week
A rocket girl, a rocket girl 
And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Til a breakthrough brings me down again to find
I’m not the girl they think they’ve always known
Oh no, no no, I’m a rocket girl
Rocket girl, sleeping life away up here alone
And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Til a miracle sets me free and then I find
I’m not the girl I think I am at all
Oh, no one knows, I’m a rocket girl
Rocket girl, crying for the way life could have gone
Now I think it’s gonna be a long long time
And I think it’s going to be a long long time.

9 Comments Add yours

  1. relovertigo says:

    I totally get where all of those lyrics came from. My pain is 24/7, and it seems some days like the life I used to have actually belonged to a fictional character from some book I once read. Thanks for saying so well what so many of us feel and can’t say.

  2. tlohuis says:

    I can so totally relate, as well. I suffer from several chronic illnesses and chronic pain, along with insomnia. Just know you aren’t alone. There are a whole lot of us here at wordpress on this same shitty journey. Just remember that I am here. You can rant and rave, vent, cuss, flip out, or just talk whatever you feel the need to do. I will listen. I won’t judge you. The majority of my life is spent in bed except when I get out to go to all of my appointments. I know, trust me. It sucks. Hang in there. You can do this and it’s not easy.
    Tammy 🙂

  3. avrillane says:

    This really struck a chord with me. My children are teenagers. They’ve grown up with a parent who suffers from Chronic Pain daily. The guilt would eat me up. You can’t always hide the pain or put on a brave face. Indeed, plenty of times they provided comfort to me. This isn’t natural at a young stage in their lives, in the grand scheme of things. You grieve for the Mum you wish they had. Then one day it dawned on me: They were much better off having me as a Mum than not having a Mum at all. I told them I wasn’t dying and explained to them about my illness. From that day, I saw their anxiety melt away and mind did too. It took plenty of rough years but we’ve adapted and they’ve turned out fine. Yours will too. You most certainly aren’t alone in your suffering but I know it certainly feels like it at times. Pain wears you out and grinds you down. It wrecks your thought process. That’s when we need our fellow sufferers to be our ‘crutch’; to get us through those difficult days. Then the clouds clear, the sun shines and we are revitalised to fight again. Feeling lucky for any good day we get. I know a little about you, there’s no doubt you are a great Mom/wife and a wonderful person. Keep fighting the fight.

    1. ladymigraine says:

      These comments are so meaningful to me. Thank you for your support, all of you.

  4. Christen A. Giblin says:

    Elizabeth, your blog is heart-rending. I know it might not help, but I have to say I think you are a brilliant writer, a lyricist, and a often a poet. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. And I hope I didn’t sound glib when I referred earlier to your “unconditional love of life.” Surely some days you must hate life and wish there were a nice way to check out; one that wouldn’t hurt others. What I meant to do was praise your courage in getting on with life–marrying, having a family, adopting a dog–in spite of everything. Because of this I’d say that if indeed you and the migraine are partners, you are the dominant one! You do what you want to do in spite of that mother-bleeper. You’ve had to forge your own armor–and oh, how it shines…

    1. ladymigraine says:

      Christen, thank you. Truly. ❤

  5. rocket girl… if i could please re-write these for you. to better tell the tale of your awesomeness. as you are on this spaceship ride with me.


    She read to her kid last night
    all day long 9am
    as she was sedated and in pain
    in her cocoon head
    she misses herself so much she misses her time
    not asking for much, just an episode of parks and rec

    And I think it’s gonna be a wishy washy time
    Til relief brings you round again to find
    that chronic illness is like a scratch off lottery ticket every time
    Oh no, no no, she’s a rocket girl
    Rocket girl, fighting for her right to live on earth

    sick in a daze, brushing her child’s hair
    butterfly hair tie with aura
    he is glad you are there to raise them with you
    to answer questions, that most don’t understand
    you do it all, seven days a week
    a rocket girl a rocket girl

    And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
    Til a breakthrough brings her down again to find
    she’s not the only girl that prevenative medications don’t work for
    Oh no, no no, she’s a rocket girl
    Rocket girl, fighting for her right to live on earth

    And I don’t know if it’s gonna be a long long time
    Til a miracle sets her free but then she finds
    that we don’t give a fuck, because she is awesome
    because we know, that you are the motherfucking rocket girl
    not because you give up, but because your heart keeps on pounding…in the cold cold reaches of space.

    everyone knows you’re a rocket girl
    Rocket girl, crying for the way life has been (and then isn’t randomly for 6 months, and then is horrible for two years, and then is slightly better for a few more, but not perfect…for no fucking reason whatsoever)

    Now I think it’s gonna be a long long time
    and there’s plenty of adventures to have in between the pain.

    i promise.

    1. ladymigraine says:

      Mechanical Cat. You are the reason I am still alive. You are the reason our girls have a sense of humor. And wonder. And solidity in a shifting, sandy magical beach world with so much promise and imagination. Even if that sand is always a little gritty underfoot, drifting across the unfinished wood dog-tracked floors. Floors that YOU sweep twice per day as you also do dishes, clean the bathroom, gather toys, sort papers, do homework wrangling, Zo calming, Asia outing, pay the bills, go to the store, do your marketing research, write songs, care for your sick and depressed partner, do laundry, {do laundry}, visit Mothman’s House, meet Bigfoot for brunch, record an album, fight John’s demons, and conquer the world with those big brown eyes.

      I could not have dreamed for a better partner, and I did dream for you, as I left behind my dog and pear orchard and moved to town, barely understanding the pain that would leave me helpless and bed-bound several times per month as my rocket bike gathered dust in the garage, and John Lennon died, and you were born.

      thank you for finding me and for making the world magical and for supporting this rocket family, seven days per week.
      ~rocket girl | ~~~[\%]>

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