Okay, so I'll admit it. I've been feeling very 'put upon' lately. In fact, I've been feeling quite sorry for myself. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but true.
Normally, I'm not that kind of a girl. Oh I bitch, and curse and maybe cry a bit, but it's usually short-lived. Then I go into 'repair' mode. I identify the problem, assess my options and set about making things right, or at least acceptable.
I wasn't able to do that this time. First of all, things were happening too fast. It was one crisis after another with no time to process anything in between. For the last month I've been on a roller coaster, screaming to get off.
Sept 10th - Husbands surgery, (partially successful)
Sept 15th - Brother in law passed away suddenly
Sept 15th- Husband's second surgery (again partially successful)
Sept 19th- Funeral
Sept 27th-28th Youngest son to Er - Transferred by ambulance to Albany for surgery with gallbladder, renal and liver failure
Sept 28th- Middle son has heart attack. Doctors snag large clot and add stent
Sept 30th - Middle son released
Oct 1st- Youngest son released
Oct 3rd - Youngest son back in for Er surgery, hernia tore open his intestine
Oct 4th- Middle son re-admitted to hospital for chest pain, another catherization and change of meds.
Oct 6th- Middle son released from hospital.
Oct. 6th - Return to husbands doctor, foot has ulcerated, needs another surgery - quickly.
Oct 7th - Youngest son released from hospital
Oct 7th - huge argument with my youngest daughter in the a.m. I gave up and went back to bed for the rest of the day!
Oct 8th - Waiting for call from hospital that they have a bed for husband.
Oct 9th - Husbands third surgery scheduled for by-pass in right leg.
So looking at this in chronological order, I can clearly see why I may have been slightly off balance for the last month. Actually, I'm not sure I have the dates exactly right, it all seems sort of foggy, but they're close. I do know that both boys ended up in the hospital on the same day, twice. Odd, huh?
Ever since we went to the doctors on Tuesday when I knew for sure we were looking at another, more serious surgery for Bill, I've been slightly sick. Stomach pain, nausea, chills etc. probably mostly the result of anxiety.
This morning it was still dark when I got up-- that happens when you sleep almost an entire day away. I sat at the table with my tea, the lights off, and watched the sun come up all by myself. Even the dog cut me some slack and refrained from frantically scratching at the door to go out. As I watched the sky grow lighter I thought about all the things that have come our way and I realized that all my worrying hasn't helped one damn thing. I thought about all the people who've supported us and prayed for us.
Finally thin streams of sunlight began to break through the clouds and I began to realize how incredibly lucky we are. Basically we've come through hell and we aren't done, but I still have my husband, and my poor sister-in-law does not. What the hell am I whining about? We have our son's, both of whom could easily have died. My middle son lives a good half hour from the trauma hospital, not counting how long it would have taken for the ambulance to get there. That day he was three minutes away. Bill's doctor is aggressive, not content to just sit back and watch him lose his foot, then his leg. Another surgery is a bitch, but if it works, I'll have my husband back up and walking. Some people don't get that choice, we did. I'm thankful. I just wish the hospital would call so we can get this show in the road. I'm anxious for things to get back to normal, whatever that is.
So anyway, no more doom and gloom from me. I'm picking myself up, dusting myself off and ready to carry on. I have books to write, I want to go to Bingo ( I really can't even believe I said that as I always hated Bingo, but now they have the machines so I don't have to pay attention and can pig-out on cheese fries and chicken tenders) and I want to have sex. Oh yes I do, raunchy, nasty, wild sex, the kind you have to keep your windows closed for. I can't wait to remind Bill that although we may be older, but we're not dead. I'm truly blessed and I don't plan on forgetting it again. Hugs, Stevie