Monday, Monday can't trust that day
Dear Husband is home and on the mend. It will be a long mend.
I'm back at work, with a good many things to do, for which I am glad. Busy is good, and having meaningful work is best. I wish I could be with Dear Husband 24/7, but that's just my anxiety talking.
Speaking of anxiety, I had a whopper of a anxiety attack on Saturday. PTSD and anxiety are a bitch. I know some of you don't like that language, but hey: that's what it is. Sitting in the Walgreens parking lot, shaking uncontrollably for no good reason. Nope, it's just your body and your brain saying, "Well, things are taken care of and relatively safe now. It's ok to have a teeny little breakdown." Which I did. For about 40 minutes. Then drove home, praying "Jesus!" over and over again, hands clamped to the steering wheel. Jesus, take the wheel, indeed.
It's not all sackcloth and ashes - it usually isn't. People are kind and generous and helpful and sweet and giving and loving. Above and beyond.
Of course, Hubby still has a big ole hole in his arm, and is frustrated that he isn't feeling better faster. Me, the queen of pain and surgery, tells him it's gonna take time. And then I go remind myself the same thing.
We have a daughter getting married in a month. I want so much to relax and enjoy this occasion with her, her fiance' and our guests. I hope that by then, we'll be able to really enjoy things, with all this worry just a niggle in the back of our minds.
I've said a lot of Rosaries the past few weeks - I think I said seven of them the third time my hubby was in surgery. They had originally scheduled his surgery for 5:30 p.m. He didn't go in until about 8:30 p.m., and it took about 2-3 hours.
I was the ONLY PERSON IN THE WAITING ROOM. It was the loneliest I've ever been. I clutched my Rosary and prayed. I'm not sure how much of it made sense, but I also know it didn't matter.
Just remember, tonight, when you are climbing into your safe, inviting bed, with a few prayers on your mind, but mostly sleep settling over you, that somewhere - there is a person, sitting all alone, in a waiting room. No one with them. Scared to death. Their whole world on the line. Say a prayer for that person.
Being a human is ... messy. Our relationships with loved ones get strained, we get angry or upset, we say stuff we shouldn't .... We ...
If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster: a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to ru...
I recently spent a week in the hospital. Two of those days, I was in the regular ol' hospital because my blood pressure was out of wha...
When my kids were little and my days were organized chaos, I would day-dream of being a Carmelite nun. Oh, to have a quiet little cell for...