So, since I have dutifully given my notice to my boss, I can tell the world at large about the last couple days.
Wednesday morning, at o'dark hundred, I wake up from a bad enough nightmare that I decide get online to calm down for a little bit. This is how I find out that my parents' cat, who we've had since I was... thirteen? Anyway, she finally gave up fighting. In my mom's arms. Like dad said, this is a good death... She was very old, and starting to come apart at the seams, but she was mobile and independent right up until the day she died. She was warm and loved. I kinda picture it as her hanging on until mom found her, and then getting comfortable and leaving.
I'm still crushed over it. Not as bad as mom though. Everyone think good thoughts for my mom. She's taking it really hard.
Four hours later, I get a phone call from my surgeon. "Good news! You're booked for the 27th!" to which I naturally responded, "Of what?"
March.
March 27th.
As in, in like two weeks.
*blink*
zomgwtflolbbq!!1!one *quietly pukes in the corner*
Good thing I had that appointment with the GP all set up, right?
So I go to see Dr Hall, and he's like, welll.... I can't do much in two weeks. There's not really time for us to do anything except kill time until it happens.
I'm like "I was thinking valium." And he's like "Yes. Yes definitely, I can totally do that."
So my official prescription is... "Take two pills a day. Go to cosco, buy one of those bulk sets of kleenex. Use it all. Have lots of sex. Buy a bottle of wine and have a glass a day. Have lots of sex. And write a list of people who deserve this more than you. I'll help you start... my ex-wife... my kids... they take after their mother..."
I heart my doctor.
I'll be missing the end of my class. I'm going to talk to David about if there's anything I can do to not lose the credit, and somehow make up the final exam.
If all goes well, I'll be getting out of the hospital on my birthday, but if it doesn't, I'll be in the hospital for my birthday.
I'm working hard at doing what I need to do for me. I think I'm learning who my friends are, and if they aren't the ones I thought they were... well, that tends to be the typical conclusion. I suppose I'm more grateful that I HAVE friends. I tend to expect that in situations like this, I will be alone.
People have a hard time understanding that I do tend to get introspective when under stress. They feel hurt and abandoned, but I find other people to be more than I can bear in situations like this. I want to be left alone to regroup. I don't want to have to worry about other people's needs, when I don't have any energy.
The running joke goes something like this. "I'm crying every thirty seconds!" "No, don't be silly, you're crying every thirty minutes." "Yeah, for twenty-five minutes."
Lets say, I'm not coping well. I'm trying, I am. It is what it is.
On the other hand, it's normal to mourn. I'm just trying to mourn when other people aren't around.
I love my family. Push comes to shove, they're always there for me.
I am concerned that Maren won't tell the kids about the surgery.
I did the bloodwork that I was supposed to get done two months ago. Oops.
Six vials. She was the most competent vampire I've ever ever got. I wish I could take her to the pre-op stuff.
I was going to work, and I had two interactions that made my day. One was with this nice lady who was waiting for the same bus as me. We had a good, though rather generic conversation, and I helped her be less nervous because I take that bus more often than she does, and she was afraid of missing it. The other, later that trip, a nice older lady got on the bus, and I gave her the seat, and we ended up spending the whole bus ride talking. She's 83, but looks no more than 60. We talked about being sick, and buses, and malls, and all kinds of stuff. I told her about losing my colon, and she talked about her daughter with MS. She said she placed me at 24, but only because I'd talked about fifteen as so long ago. She also gave me the best compliment of the week... When we were talking about being sick and stuff, she mentioned getting stink-eye from ladies younger than her for taking the handicapped seats, and I said she looked so young because of her beautiful smile. She said it was funny, because she doesn't actually smile that much. Which means I spend forty minutes putting a beautiful smile on the face of a lovely lady. I can't think of a better compliment.
Cam does happy dances when he sees me. There's this adorable thing he's picked up at school... when you do something well, he goes "Claps for" your name, and claps really wildly. So I do it back to him now, when he's particularly clever. His teacher emailed pictures from the pre-March Break festival, and for the first time, he looks like a regular kid. I'm so proud of him, and I'm going to miss him so much.
I asked his teacher for advice on what Jonas could do to replace me, and she said to try the Y. And Jonas said the Y says they have lots of room, so I don't have to worry about it. I talked to Cam about it a bit yesterday, and will be trying to prep him for the rest of the week. Maybe I might see if I can take him on a visit, before I'm done.
Cam is really good about giving me hugs when I ask for them. It helps.
I ran into a good friend from (the first) highschool yesterday. We had a good conversation, standing in the doorway to the bathroom. I have missed her greatly. I wanted to give her a hug, but wasn't sure it was appropriate.
This is my motivation. Look for it. It's there. The world is depressing AND inspirational, and what you see is what you'll find.
|