<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/i-cant-stay-mad-at-you/”>I Can’t Stay Mad at You</a>
Can I try to be honest about this? After having so many people walk in and out of my room over the past 24 hours, I’m exhausted. The only person who isn’t smiling is me and everyone keeps asking why. I got lucky this time, after all the build up to the potential outcomes for this round of surgery; things are bad but not ugly.
The surgeon finished with me, the scraping of my left arm for tissue, tendon, and a bit of bone to clear out yet some more cancerous garbage. I’m to keep everything else in the places where my genetics first arranged them. In short, still have the arm! But the next time I can’t help wonder if I’m going to be that lucky. And really, how many more times am I going to be able to add a little more time to the calendar.
When Kathy and her family agreed to help out there was one condition, I keep trying to find a solution. Sounds simple? It’s not. There are days when I truly wish things sped up. Selfish beyond comprehension? Maybe? I’m not really sure when you know that others, even when willing to give everything of themselves, are being saddened with my contribution. This particular family and I have been down this road before and I am honored and petrified to think we are walking down that same path. Before it was only a few weeks watching someone decline, this is much longer.
We all agreed that if I had stayed in Maryland, I would have done this by myself. I wouldn’t have involved others. Still carrying that guilt about needing them during the daughter issue, I would have stayed silent until someone read about it in the paper “Crazed Border Collie eats Owner!”
There is plenty of sick, childish humor I can find in all of this. Most times I’m smart enough to know to keep my mouth shut as well. Because I don’t want to be defined by the cancer or solely by the events regarding my daughter or even her mother’s leaving. I’m more than those events. While the cancer has a hold on me at present and it’s grip is definitely stronger than I would like, it can’t be me.
I love baseball, playing the piano [even when I keep headphones on to hid my mistakes], and while most people who knew me might shake their heads in confusion, I have a huge soft spot for kids. Those things are worth wearing the label for, big letters across my chest. And since work still sends me projects to complete, I must still have some of that?
There’s always going to be a part of me that is said about those other things, you don’t ever get over the loss of a child. I keep reminding myself of that when dealing with my mother.
Any person who has dealt with these life-altering events understands that they can absolutely drag you down. So much deeper into a world that you never knew, that depression being ugly and at times all-encompassing. It’s taken lots of therapy, some interesting pharmaceuticals [chemo/anti-depressants/ other odds and ends], and running away to get me closer to who I want to be. I’m still universes away.
There are few days when I don’t think about one or two people back in Maryland and if I did the right thing. For any of us. I’ll probably never know the answer. You learn to live with that…
The doctors and nurses, Kathy and her brood, even the interaction I allow my family isn’t going to fix this. Dying is hard. I wish there were better, stronger words I could share, but I don’t have them. I just know that I hope there comes a time when I’m strong enough to understand how to handle this better. That goal of being a better person for my daughter certainly took a strange turn!
I don’t think I did the right thing by just cutting other people out. My grief just told me they needed a break from me, I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to reach out now that I could use someone to talk to.
Still working on that forgiving myself thing.