(I tried to get the ad out of the link…couldn’t make it work..sorry!)
I had an extraordinarily awful afternoon yesterday.
Well, I guess it started the night before.
I was scheduled to work, so didn’t take my usual muscle relaxer at bedtime. I have an innate fear of sleeping through my alarm and missing work.
So about an hour and a half into my night’s slumber–someone pulled my hair.
I mean, they pulled my hair hard. It woke me up with a jolt. “Stop it!” I screeched, then turned over to see Bob sleeping soundly, gently snoring even.
“Weird”, I thought-then I turned back over.
The invisible hair puller kept it up all night and most of the day yesterday.
Even with ice pack applied and my hand applying pressure, the sensation was still present.
So, I got literally no sleep, could not take pain meds and had to be at work at 0730.
So off I go to work running on empty.
Before leaving, a quick glance outside encouraged me to try to find a raincoat and an umbrella.
For those of you late to the party, we just moved.
Neither were to be located.
I pulled on the chic little hat of mine and sped off to work.
Three minutes later as I pull into the paid parking lot behind my building (with no umbrella or raincoat, I was NOT walking five blocks from our designated parking garage just so my parking would be free).
I walk in the building and get to work.
Here is where I hit the windshield.
Late in the day I’m informed that some of my hours must be cut.
I’m optional staff-so that’s not a big deal.
Then, I’m led to believe that another nurse has a problem working with me because of my “brain thing”.
I’m being gentle and evasive in my description of this–as I don’t know who might find this blog and take it personally.
So, let me just say, it’s the first time since this whole ordeal started (about 2 years ago) that I felt -maybe not discriminated against..but-well– SPECIAL.
You know, like a person with leprosy may feel, or someone with a blatantly obvious facial deformity.
I felt ugly, undesirable and sort of unemployable.
By the time I made it home, in the still rainy weather…I was a wreck.
That three minutes home was enough time to review all of my life’s failures,
all of my physical defects and I made the decision that I
am a total loser at life.
I walked in, blurted this all out to my husband in a tearful, rambling way that made him look at me with this look that said, “I don’t know what to say, so I’m not saying a word.”
When he finally did say something, it was an update on someone very dear to him that had a grueling, superhuman twelve hour long surgery yesterday..a surgery that he entered with only a 50% survival rate. That was the final straw.
Not only was I defective, undesirable, possibly unemployable, but I was a self-centered, selfish shrew as well.
Here, this young man is undergoing this tragic surgery…and I’m crying because some kid on the playground doesn’t want to play with me.
I excuse myself, go in the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the shower, sit on the floor and wail out my anguish.
I text Katrina…ALWAYS a good idea.
If I hate something…she hates it too-and with a vengeance!
I love friends like her.
About seven days ago, she was in the bathroom crying texting me-
So believe me– she understands.
I’m not given those rainbow and butterfly responses from her.
There is no:
“Put on a happy face”
“Be happy-or fake it ’til you make it”
“When God closes a window, He opens a door.”
“You should be grateful, it could be so much worse.”
She gets down and dirty and takes up an offense like nobody I’ve ever known.
Then, when the rant dies down..
She says, “But this is our life….”
This is how it’s gonna be.
We think it’s going to one day magically be better, but it isn’t.
So..with that reality.
I realize what you must be thinking-
I mean, I have this blog, so I must be above all of this petty whining.
Actually, I have this blog because of this petty whining.
If I didn’t get to get these words out of my head, I would not be able to face a new day.
Usually, I make peace with and accept my place in this world.
I can turn this into something good and reach out to others.
I just can’t do it every day.
I can’t help but image life without this diagnosis.
I would’ve finished grad school by now.
I’d be an FNP somewhere.
Life would be different.
I would still feel smart.
I would still function with the rest of society.
I would be the old me.
But, today I ask..would it be better?
I don’t have a good answer.
I’m glad to have met the amazing people I’ve met over the past two years.
I’m honored to be able to mentor a few people and hold their hands through surgery.j
I am moved by the strengths I’ve seen in myself and others.
and at the same time,
I’m so brokenhearted to be such a burden on my husband and my family.
I’m mad at myself for taking a leave of absence from school, I’ve never started a class I didn’t finish.
I resent my body for not complying and doing its job!!
and I’m afraid of what the future holds.
So..I’ll say most definitely, yesterday..I was the bug.
Today is still in the works so I’m not quite certain how it will play out.
However, I am quite grateful to still be playing.