I read somewhere that the average person spends five years of their life waiting.
Recently I’ve spent a lot of time learning the art of waiting, and in a country that loves numbers, flow charts and power point graphics I wonder if there is a statistic for the average time spent waiting for intangible things.
Oh, I’ve spent hours and hours waiting on the phone or in a line somewhere. And, like my other linemates, I’ve rolled my eyes and sighed, standing quietly, resigned to my fate as a “waiter.” Occasionally I’ve been guilty of exhaling thru puffed out cheeks and grumbling about the wasted time.
I’ve rushed through life -- in a hurry to grow up, to have a career, to accumulate possessions. I didn’t have time to wait. I had to be there now; had to have it now; had to discover it now. Waiting was for those who didn’t have anything better to do or the wherewithal to seemingly bend time to their will. I looked at anyone patiently waiting and somehow felt superior. I had appointments to keep! I had a career! I had a life! I was going places!
Ah, the folly of youth.
Yet, even in middle age I still felt the need to hurry – to not wait. I couldn’t wait for that next promotion, for the kids to get bigger, for parties, vacations, the next new thing to come along.
I am now aware there is a huge difference between waiting and WAITING….
I wait at the deli counter
I ‘WAIT’ for the Doctor to call
I wait in the line that snakes around the corner at DMV
I ‘WAIT’ for my child to come home from his first solo drive in the car
I wait while a disembodied voice tells me “Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line - your call will be answered by the next available representative.”
I ‘WAIT’ for the call that says I’m a grandmother
I wait for my lunch order to arrive
I ‘WAIT’ for test results that may change my life forever.
Wait time is now something I look forward to. Waiting gives me time to stop the world for a moment. It forces me to just breathe; to take a moment to think, to reflect.
I’ve made mental apologies to all of those I had brushed aside or looked down on. I am somewhat ashamed of the ignorance and arrogance of my thoughts and youth. I now know the difference between waiting and WAITING – and I’ve learned to appreciate the wait.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Hallelujah
As I sat on my porch this Easter morning, wrapped in the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day, I said a prayer of thanksgiving.
I thanked the Lord for the beauty that surrounds me, for the joyful sounds of the birds singing their melodious tribute to the day. I thanked Him for the wonderful flowers blooming, their resplendent array of color assuring the cycle of life and the resurgence of spring.
Most of my thankfulness was given to Him for the struggles that George and I have shared these long, hard months. Now, that may seem odd to be thankful for, but these times have brought about such an awakening in us. Something I am not sure we'd have ever been privileged to experience otherwise.
The days have been so very hard. At times the darkness seemed to encompass my soul. The fear, the pain, the unknown, all seemed to overwhelm me, wrap me in a dense fabric of despair from which I sometimes felt there was no escape.
But through it all I was learning. Humility, forgiveness, caring, strength, wisdom. All these things I thought I was already on board with took on new meaning.
I thought my heart was as open to my husband as it ever could be, but facing the fear of losing him and becoming his caregiver has expanded that love more than I could ever, ever have hoped for.
God - in His infinite wisdom - placed challenges in my path that allowed me to see George for the truly precious gift He gave me.
Oh, don't get me wrong - there were times when I could have willfully choked "The Commander" (as his friends and co-workers call him) for his actions and non-actions. There is nothing worse than trying to convince a hard-headed German male that something is good for him when he's already made up his mind against it.
We've faced so much together, entwining the fabric of our beings,strengthening the ties that have made us one and holding fast to the belief that we would get through this together. We are genuinely thankful for this special power we have been given.
It has allowed us both to overcome so much.
Yesterday, that special power, that faith, and that love was rewarded with the best of possible results. George's PET scan was clear - he is cancer free!
So, while the world - and I - celebrate the resurrection, the renewal and the hope, George and I are also celebrating Thanksgiving.
I think I'll have some Turkey with my Ham and green beans today :-)!
I thanked the Lord for the beauty that surrounds me, for the joyful sounds of the birds singing their melodious tribute to the day. I thanked Him for the wonderful flowers blooming, their resplendent array of color assuring the cycle of life and the resurgence of spring.
Most of my thankfulness was given to Him for the struggles that George and I have shared these long, hard months. Now, that may seem odd to be thankful for, but these times have brought about such an awakening in us. Something I am not sure we'd have ever been privileged to experience otherwise.
The days have been so very hard. At times the darkness seemed to encompass my soul. The fear, the pain, the unknown, all seemed to overwhelm me, wrap me in a dense fabric of despair from which I sometimes felt there was no escape.
But through it all I was learning. Humility, forgiveness, caring, strength, wisdom. All these things I thought I was already on board with took on new meaning.
I thought my heart was as open to my husband as it ever could be, but facing the fear of losing him and becoming his caregiver has expanded that love more than I could ever, ever have hoped for.
God - in His infinite wisdom - placed challenges in my path that allowed me to see George for the truly precious gift He gave me.
Oh, don't get me wrong - there were times when I could have willfully choked "The Commander" (as his friends and co-workers call him) for his actions and non-actions. There is nothing worse than trying to convince a hard-headed German male that something is good for him when he's already made up his mind against it.
We've faced so much together, entwining the fabric of our beings,strengthening the ties that have made us one and holding fast to the belief that we would get through this together. We are genuinely thankful for this special power we have been given.
It has allowed us both to overcome so much.
Yesterday, that special power, that faith, and that love was rewarded with the best of possible results. George's PET scan was clear - he is cancer free!
So, while the world - and I - celebrate the resurrection, the renewal and the hope, George and I are also celebrating Thanksgiving.
I think I'll have some Turkey with my Ham and green beans today :-)!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Spring has sprung in George's world!!!
After I don’t know how many months of driving him back and forth to hospitals, doctors offices and other appointments, he got up yesterday, got himself dressed, grabbed his car keys (gasp!!) and took himself to get his bloodwork done! Whoo Hoo – HooRay---Yippee!!!!!
Even better, after he left the lab he decided to go to the local auto parts store, the bank and then he went to his favorite grocery store!
He picked up some odds and ends we needed at the house and wandered up and down the aisles, making a point of going to the office to see the owners (he used to always see these folks before he got sick) and speak with them. This is the first time he has actively sought out people he knows and the first time he's tried speaking to anyone outside of family and the medical community. He’s always avoided going where people who knew him before the surgery would be. What a big step he has taken. I am soooo proud of him and so very, very happy for him.
After I don’t know how many months of driving him back and forth to hospitals, doctors offices and other appointments, he got up yesterday, got himself dressed, grabbed his car keys (gasp!!) and took himself to get his bloodwork done! Whoo Hoo – HooRay---Yippee!!!!!
Even better, after he left the lab he decided to go to the local auto parts store, the bank and then he went to his favorite grocery store!
He picked up some odds and ends we needed at the house and wandered up and down the aisles, making a point of going to the office to see the owners (he used to always see these folks before he got sick) and speak with them. This is the first time he has actively sought out people he knows and the first time he's tried speaking to anyone outside of family and the medical community. He’s always avoided going where people who knew him before the surgery would be. What a big step he has taken. I am soooo proud of him and so very, very happy for him.
Monday, March 15, 2010
I need to apologize to all of you who have stopped by to check on us. I didn’t realize that it had been so long since my last post. It seems such a short moment since radiation stopped and recovery truly began.
In that time span some of the following things have popped up:
I was rooting through the sample bag the speech therapist sent home with George. In there were round and oval stickeys with a hole in the center and little plastic and foam buttons that snap into them (now I know they are called baseplates!). Ah…this is what the speech therapist was explaining. She said they just peel and stick. Ok- I peeled the backing off, stuck it on his neck, put the little button in…and watched as he tried to talk and blew the whole contraption clear across the room! Seems there is a liquid adhesive that goes on first to help the stickey stuff stick!!! An ah-ha moment if ever I’ve had one.
Somewhere in the back of my brain I thought that once the radiation burns went away and the IV fluids stopped that all would be well. Ummm Hummmm……did I really believe THAT?!?!?!?!?!?
Fighting – and pleading, and begging, and crying – with the insurance company is becoming a way of life. If they aren’t denying a claim (it’s still a NO for the teeth replacements) they are only agreeing to cover partial payments on the medication. Their opinion was that George only needed to take a certain medication every other day. I won that argument – and boy, was I proud of myself. I did it all without one curse word … not a hell or a damn or anything else that was on the tip of my tongue!
Our 15 year-old grandson decided to try longboarding (a form of skateboard) down an ice-covered street, got caught up on a chunk of ice, fell, slid across about 30’ of roadway, ripped the skin off his arm and wrist and tore the ligaments in his knee. He and his friends were filming it … something only a bunch of 15 year-olds would do…and once he was released from the ER he had to email me the footage. I think I liked it more when I couldn’t see what they were doing!
My apologies to all that live in a cold climate but I have realized that I never, ever, want to live in Alaska, Maine or anywhere else that has true snowfall. Sitting around a warm, cozy fire while snow fell outside and blanketed the world in soft white down was always a fantasy of mine. Now that I have experienced 40+ inches of snow in less than 3 weeks I can honestly say the fantasy is over! I live near the ocean for pete’s sake – not North Dakota!!!! I’ve also noticed I am way toooo old to shovel snow!
Caregiving and snowstorms do not make for smooth sailing…unless, of course, one considers sliding across the bridge from one state to another to visit the surgeon sailing!
There we were, a man that can’t speak and sooo wants to, and a woman saying things that probably shouldn’t be said by anyone, sliding sideways over the bridge and through the snow; 4-wheel drive be damned, a death grip on the wheel, and a husband trying to mime how to handle the slide. Yep- I am not moving farther north…never……ever!!!!!
George is on the road to recovery. I think he is recovering faster physically than he is mentally. He is so very, very tired, still in a lot of pain and still learning how to adjust to all of this. Sometimes he wants to give up and then he has times where he can see better times ahead. The one-day-at-a-time approach is the only thing I know to help him through.
Thank you, all of my wonderful blog friends, for all your continued support for both of us. I have thought of all of you often and you are always in my prayers. I go about my day and think “Ah, I’ll have a chance to catch up tonight,” and then I get caught up in the minutiae of the day and before I know it days and days have flown by.
Now, I am going to post this and go visit your bloggie homes and say HI!
In that time span some of the following things have popped up:
I was rooting through the sample bag the speech therapist sent home with George. In there were round and oval stickeys with a hole in the center and little plastic and foam buttons that snap into them (now I know they are called baseplates!). Ah…this is what the speech therapist was explaining. She said they just peel and stick. Ok- I peeled the backing off, stuck it on his neck, put the little button in…and watched as he tried to talk and blew the whole contraption clear across the room! Seems there is a liquid adhesive that goes on first to help the stickey stuff stick!!! An ah-ha moment if ever I’ve had one.
Somewhere in the back of my brain I thought that once the radiation burns went away and the IV fluids stopped that all would be well. Ummm Hummmm……did I really believe THAT?!?!?!?!?!?
Fighting – and pleading, and begging, and crying – with the insurance company is becoming a way of life. If they aren’t denying a claim (it’s still a NO for the teeth replacements) they are only agreeing to cover partial payments on the medication. Their opinion was that George only needed to take a certain medication every other day. I won that argument – and boy, was I proud of myself. I did it all without one curse word … not a hell or a damn or anything else that was on the tip of my tongue!
Our 15 year-old grandson decided to try longboarding (a form of skateboard) down an ice-covered street, got caught up on a chunk of ice, fell, slid across about 30’ of roadway, ripped the skin off his arm and wrist and tore the ligaments in his knee. He and his friends were filming it … something only a bunch of 15 year-olds would do…and once he was released from the ER he had to email me the footage. I think I liked it more when I couldn’t see what they were doing!
My apologies to all that live in a cold climate but I have realized that I never, ever, want to live in Alaska, Maine or anywhere else that has true snowfall. Sitting around a warm, cozy fire while snow fell outside and blanketed the world in soft white down was always a fantasy of mine. Now that I have experienced 40+ inches of snow in less than 3 weeks I can honestly say the fantasy is over! I live near the ocean for pete’s sake – not North Dakota!!!! I’ve also noticed I am way toooo old to shovel snow!
Caregiving and snowstorms do not make for smooth sailing…unless, of course, one considers sliding across the bridge from one state to another to visit the surgeon sailing!
There we were, a man that can’t speak and sooo wants to, and a woman saying things that probably shouldn’t be said by anyone, sliding sideways over the bridge and through the snow; 4-wheel drive be damned, a death grip on the wheel, and a husband trying to mime how to handle the slide. Yep- I am not moving farther north…never……ever!!!!!
George is on the road to recovery. I think he is recovering faster physically than he is mentally. He is so very, very tired, still in a lot of pain and still learning how to adjust to all of this. Sometimes he wants to give up and then he has times where he can see better times ahead. The one-day-at-a-time approach is the only thing I know to help him through.
Thank you, all of my wonderful blog friends, for all your continued support for both of us. I have thought of all of you often and you are always in my prayers. I go about my day and think “Ah, I’ll have a chance to catch up tonight,” and then I get caught up in the minutiae of the day and before I know it days and days have flown by.
Now, I am going to post this and go visit your bloggie homes and say HI!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Wandering off the healthcare path...
Normally I write about my experiences with caring for my husband and the things I am learning as we journey through this disease. Today I am wandering from that path to share a slice of my day with you.
I was welcomed to my bathroom this morning by a very cold, very wet, very soggy, rug. One of the nuts holding the tank to the toilet bowl had broken off from the bolt and the water from the tank had drained onto the floor. Off went the water, the rug went into the tub and I cleaned up the flood. Ok- I’ll just throw on some clothes, pop into the local hardware store for parts, fix the darn thing and go about the rest of my day. Easy, right?
Well, after 3 trips to the store (how was I to know that toilet bolts aren’t one size fits all) I have the correct size and can replace both bolts. I go to my shed, get all the tools I need and I’m ready to go. But, first, I have to get hubby ready for the day and all settled in. And I have to get my morning coffee that I haven’t gotten to yet!!!
Coffee pot (single cup) is on and I’m helping hubby with his suction machine. Hmmmmm- it’s not suctioning right… hmph-let’s see what’s wrong… machine pressure is ok, tubes are clear, wand is clean…what the heck? Ahhhh- the canister has a hairline crack and there’s no vacuum. Off with the bad one, on with the new and all is well. Back for the coffee……yeck- it’s lukewarm….better start a new cup. In the meantime, back to the bathroom.
Agggh- got one bolt off but the other is being stubborn. There’s always one, isn’t there?
Got to get my coffee. I pull the cup out and instead of nice, fresh great looking coffee I see what looks like swamp water. Duh- I forgot to put in the coffee. OK- let’s do this one more time…..water..check, coffee…CHECK….cup…check. While I’m in the kitchen I make a quick lunch for hubby…..yes, it’s now lunch time. I’ve been to the store 3 times, gotten hubby dressed, fixed the suction machine, am working on the toilet and still have NOT had my coffee!!!!!!!!!
Back out to the shed for better pliers and back to the bathroom. I…cannot…get…this…thing…off!!! I’m now on my back, on the floor, under the toilet tank…ewww… I really need to clean back here a little better…and beginning to sound like a sailor. No luck. The darn thing is not budging. I WANT MY COFFEE!
Before I get to the kitchen hubby is asking for some help. No problem….I need a break anyway.
An hour later he’s all taken care of, settled back in his chair and I’m on my way back to the kitchen to make another attempt at some caffeine!!!! I dump the cold stuff into the sink and start ANOTHER cup.
Now armed with a can of WD-40 I enter the bathroom to continue the war with the toilet tank bolt. One spray onto the bolt and…damn, the phone is ringing. “Hello....no, honey, I’m not busy…of course I’ll pick you up from school. I’m on my way.” Time-out to rescue a grandson who has missed the last bus from school.
Ninety minutes later I’m on my way back to continue the war with the bolt. The WD-40 should have really soaked in by now. Ooops- forgot to give hubby the afternoon medications, now I have to make a special mixture to tube feed them into him. That WD-40 will really be soaked in!
Pliers, screwdriver, drill driver, wrenches,WD-40, bolts, nuts, washers, towels and a bucket all give my bathroom the appearance of a hardware store. And I still cannot loosen this bolt. One more time and then that’s it….I give up! Wait...Wait...can it be...is it really...yes, yes, it’s moving!!!! The nut is moving…..HOORAY- it’s OFF!!!!!!
Whew…
Fifteen minutes later both new bolts and all the washers and nuts are in, tightened down and the toilet tank is filled with water. The toilet works, there’s no flood on the floor and now it’s time for dinner. I’m going into the kitchen to prepare dinner and Get My Coffee!!!
The day probably would have gone so much easier if I had just gotten my coffee FIRST!!!!
I was welcomed to my bathroom this morning by a very cold, very wet, very soggy, rug. One of the nuts holding the tank to the toilet bowl had broken off from the bolt and the water from the tank had drained onto the floor. Off went the water, the rug went into the tub and I cleaned up the flood. Ok- I’ll just throw on some clothes, pop into the local hardware store for parts, fix the darn thing and go about the rest of my day. Easy, right?
Well, after 3 trips to the store (how was I to know that toilet bolts aren’t one size fits all) I have the correct size and can replace both bolts. I go to my shed, get all the tools I need and I’m ready to go. But, first, I have to get hubby ready for the day and all settled in. And I have to get my morning coffee that I haven’t gotten to yet!!!
Coffee pot (single cup) is on and I’m helping hubby with his suction machine. Hmmmmm- it’s not suctioning right… hmph-let’s see what’s wrong… machine pressure is ok, tubes are clear, wand is clean…what the heck? Ahhhh- the canister has a hairline crack and there’s no vacuum. Off with the bad one, on with the new and all is well. Back for the coffee……yeck- it’s lukewarm….better start a new cup. In the meantime, back to the bathroom.
Agggh- got one bolt off but the other is being stubborn. There’s always one, isn’t there?
Got to get my coffee. I pull the cup out and instead of nice, fresh great looking coffee I see what looks like swamp water. Duh- I forgot to put in the coffee. OK- let’s do this one more time…..water..check, coffee…CHECK….cup…check. While I’m in the kitchen I make a quick lunch for hubby…..yes, it’s now lunch time. I’ve been to the store 3 times, gotten hubby dressed, fixed the suction machine, am working on the toilet and still have NOT had my coffee!!!!!!!!!
Back out to the shed for better pliers and back to the bathroom. I…cannot…get…this…thing…off!!! I’m now on my back, on the floor, under the toilet tank…ewww… I really need to clean back here a little better…and beginning to sound like a sailor. No luck. The darn thing is not budging. I WANT MY COFFEE!
Before I get to the kitchen hubby is asking for some help. No problem….I need a break anyway.
An hour later he’s all taken care of, settled back in his chair and I’m on my way back to the kitchen to make another attempt at some caffeine!!!! I dump the cold stuff into the sink and start ANOTHER cup.
Now armed with a can of WD-40 I enter the bathroom to continue the war with the toilet tank bolt. One spray onto the bolt and…damn, the phone is ringing. “Hello....no, honey, I’m not busy…of course I’ll pick you up from school. I’m on my way.” Time-out to rescue a grandson who has missed the last bus from school.
Ninety minutes later I’m on my way back to continue the war with the bolt. The WD-40 should have really soaked in by now. Ooops- forgot to give hubby the afternoon medications, now I have to make a special mixture to tube feed them into him. That WD-40 will really be soaked in!
Pliers, screwdriver, drill driver, wrenches,WD-40, bolts, nuts, washers, towels and a bucket all give my bathroom the appearance of a hardware store. And I still cannot loosen this bolt. One more time and then that’s it….I give up! Wait...Wait...can it be...is it really...yes, yes, it’s moving!!!! The nut is moving…..HOORAY- it’s OFF!!!!!!
Whew…
Fifteen minutes later both new bolts and all the washers and nuts are in, tightened down and the toilet tank is filled with water. The toilet works, there’s no flood on the floor and now it’s time for dinner. I’m going into the kitchen to prepare dinner and Get My Coffee!!!
The day probably would have gone so much easier if I had just gotten my coffee FIRST!!!!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Radiation is OVER!!!!!
For the first time in what seems like forever I do not have to get up in the wee hours and drive into the city. I am not going to know what to do with myself!
I hope this gives some type of closure to my hubby. I'm extremely happy that this part of our journey is complete. George doesn't seem to feel the same way- in fact - he seems rather removed from it. I imagine this is something that must sink in, something he must mentally kick around for awhile.
The doctor has also ordered some medication for his anger and depression- thank goodness - so that may have something to do with it.
Now, hopefully, George can get on with the job of recovering and will have a more positive outlook for the future.
It's been such a long, hard, road but we're both still standing. Recuperation and recovery still stretch out before us, but for today, we're breathing a sigh of relief and being thankful that we've made it this far.
For the first time in what seems like forever I do not have to get up in the wee hours and drive into the city. I am not going to know what to do with myself!
I hope this gives some type of closure to my hubby. I'm extremely happy that this part of our journey is complete. George doesn't seem to feel the same way- in fact - he seems rather removed from it. I imagine this is something that must sink in, something he must mentally kick around for awhile.
The doctor has also ordered some medication for his anger and depression- thank goodness - so that may have something to do with it.
Now, hopefully, George can get on with the job of recovering and will have a more positive outlook for the future.
It's been such a long, hard, road but we're both still standing. Recuperation and recovery still stretch out before us, but for today, we're breathing a sigh of relief and being thankful that we've made it this far.
Friday, January 15, 2010
He shuffle steps up the hall banging on walls with his hand and on the floor with his cane. Newspapers soar into the air, diving under the table as if looking for a place to hide. Innocent objects are hurled to their death as Hurricane George roars through the dining room. My husband is having a melt down. A Three-Mile Island, 10 alarm, all-hands-on-deck, meltdown.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The cane hits the floor over and over, harder and harder. To that sound is added the stamping of feet, the crash of glass and the crraack of a wall giving way.
As weak as he is he still has enough force to put his fist into the wall. The resulting crack and hole reveal more about his state of mind than words would ever divulge.
His energy spent, he stands amid broken glassware, shattered dishes, and pieces of wallboard. He is at once horrified and embarrassed. Salt, pepper and sugar add to the crunching under his feet as he makes his way to the living room.
Once on the sofa he collapses into sobs. His shoulders heave as tears roll down his cheeks but he makes no sound. My heart is breaking for him. He keeps mouthing “Why? Why?” over and over. I can’t hug him--his neck and shoulders are too burnt and sore to touch. I have no words to say that will soothe him. His anger and humiliation are too great for tender words or touches. He is not yet ready to allow me into his hurt. I can see he needs to feel this, needs to go through it and come out on the other side and he needs to do it on his own.
This is another kind of waiting I do. One that is so much harder than just sitting in a chair. This is the wait that says “It’s ok – I understand, I’m here.” It’s a wait that doesn’t judge or condemn. This wait says “I’ll be here when you’re through. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to reach out.”
He says he wants to die. He doesn’t want to be a burden on me. His new term is “Living Hell.” He lives there, with no relief, day after day after day. He wants it to end.
At this point I don’t know what to tell him. I can only imagine how he feels and why he feels that way and I don’t know how I feel about that. The things they haven’t told us still trump the few things they did deliver,
Nobody –and I mean No One – said anything about human hurricanes in my home…..I would’ve gone out and purchased storm damage insurance or at least had a storm party so there would be folks around to witness the phenom.
This is another one of those things I know will pass with time and will just become part of the blur that is recovery but…Whew……I didn’t know I was going to need armor!
Bang! Bang! Bang! The cane hits the floor over and over, harder and harder. To that sound is added the stamping of feet, the crash of glass and the crraack of a wall giving way.
As weak as he is he still has enough force to put his fist into the wall. The resulting crack and hole reveal more about his state of mind than words would ever divulge.
His energy spent, he stands amid broken glassware, shattered dishes, and pieces of wallboard. He is at once horrified and embarrassed. Salt, pepper and sugar add to the crunching under his feet as he makes his way to the living room.
Once on the sofa he collapses into sobs. His shoulders heave as tears roll down his cheeks but he makes no sound. My heart is breaking for him. He keeps mouthing “Why? Why?” over and over. I can’t hug him--his neck and shoulders are too burnt and sore to touch. I have no words to say that will soothe him. His anger and humiliation are too great for tender words or touches. He is not yet ready to allow me into his hurt. I can see he needs to feel this, needs to go through it and come out on the other side and he needs to do it on his own.
This is another kind of waiting I do. One that is so much harder than just sitting in a chair. This is the wait that says “It’s ok – I understand, I’m here.” It’s a wait that doesn’t judge or condemn. This wait says “I’ll be here when you’re through. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to reach out.”
He says he wants to die. He doesn’t want to be a burden on me. His new term is “Living Hell.” He lives there, with no relief, day after day after day. He wants it to end.
At this point I don’t know what to tell him. I can only imagine how he feels and why he feels that way and I don’t know how I feel about that. The things they haven’t told us still trump the few things they did deliver,
Nobody –and I mean No One – said anything about human hurricanes in my home…..I would’ve gone out and purchased storm damage insurance or at least had a storm party so there would be folks around to witness the phenom.
This is another one of those things I know will pass with time and will just become part of the blur that is recovery but…Whew……I didn’t know I was going to need armor!
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