Welcome back. I decided to make this post about how things are now for me in the after rather than continue on with a story from before or even during. I guess because I got side tracked this week and hadn’t gotten post out yet. When I started this blog I had made a promise to myself that I would have a new post up every week by Wednesday at the latest. Yet here it is Saturday and I still hadn’t gotten a post out. I have at least a dozen stories started, most just about complete but every time I sat down and stated to read through them, trying to figure out which one to share and how I could wrap it up, I just couldn’t do it. the harder I tried to force myself to get one done, the harder it got. So I did a little soul searching and this is what I came up with.
When I worked at my forever job at the hospital I worked full time plus taking call for emergencies, a self proclaimed workaholic. I honestly couldn’t imagine what I would do with all of my time if I didn’t work. I worked so much and carried the beeper so often that any time off was jam pack with all the other things that needed doing. I was a master of errand running, meal prepping, going to the gym, dog walking. You name it and I could cram it into a single day off or even a couple of hours in the evening if need be. Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of fun too but we used to pack that into our busy schedules just the same way. All of this overlapped with Mark’s schedule of course since his was similar to mine. It was all very consuming but yet I think made easier by the fact that we shared in all of this, the crazy commitment that is Cath lab life.
When I first left the hospital we had both worked there for 25 years. I took a travel assignment at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston for 3 months. Typical contracts are for 13 weeks but I could only commit to 12 since we had a trip to Grenada planned for our volunteer interventional cardiology program that we had been involved in since 2000. That was the plan at that point, to work travel contracts and take time off in-between. My kids were grown and out on their own. My parents had both passed away. I felt like I finally had some freedom to make choices that were better for me.
So when my contract was finished and our trip to Grenada was over I was back at the lake to do exactly what I wanted to and not one thing more, total freedom. Except that time came to me in the form of a giant abyss that I truly had no idea how to fill. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice but Mark was still at the hospital so there were many days that dragged on; dinners prepped at 2 in the afternoon, even what we came to refer to as “touch up vacuuming.” You get the idea I’m sure. I was suddenly the “retired” person twiddling my thumbs wondering if it was too early to make our dinner salad. I persevered, though (insert sarcasm here) and made it through the summer to start another contract in the fall.
Fast forward to after his second surgery in August of 2019 when caring for him really became a full time job. Even more so after the perfect storm that came in March of 2020. That’s when things really started to accelerate. His level of care became greater and greater every day between that time and his passing in August of that year. By the time we got to the summer months; June, July, and the beginning of August he required 24 hour care. Yes I had help and so many offers of help but I really wanted to do all that I could by myself. I knew we had a finite amount of time left and I really didn’t want to miss a minute of it, no matter how difficult it was. And of course, in my own mind, no one else could care for him the way that I did. I hardly slept but I had a purpose, to make him as happy and comfortable as possible for the time he had left.
But then it happened, I finally and what seemed like suddenly had a very giant opening in my schedule again. I was once again faced with an abyss. This time was bigger though, it was a giant black hole that appeared after my entire universe imploded. Obviously the first couple weeks are filled with all the bullshit stuff, not sleeping of course for me but everything else. There’s funeral arrangements, equipment returns, so many phone calls, moving back into my bedroom, paperwork (why is there always so much paperwork?). Then there I was staring at this abyss, this giant black hole. Maybe the times before had been practice runs for me but at least during those times Mister had always been there for me. When I worked in Boston 4 days a week we always had morning and evening report. When I was home at the lake and he was at work we could text when we had a second. He was always there to talk to. This time the abyss was silent. Yes, I had and still have family and friends who have helped to hold me up through all of this. All of the love helps but honestly it does nothing to fill in the abyss.
So let’s take this giant abyss, this black hole and add in a fair amount of post traumatic stress, a generous portion of anxiety, some run of the mill sadness, and at least a year of personal neglect and here I am, in all my fucked up broken glory. Anxious, tired, and with a serious attention deficit disorder, Ta-Da! Me, in what I’ve come to refer to as my “fucked upness.”
The start of my week was hijacked by a whopping round of brown tail moth caterpillar rash and a few days of steroids. I’m sure the steroids didn’t help with my attention deficit. Every story that I looked at this week just seemed impossible for me to complete, impossible to get just right, to tell the way I wanted it told. I couldn’t get my thoughts straight to organize my way out of a paper bag so I decided to at least try to better explain who I am now.
I’m trying to embrace this woman that I have become for the time being, let myself go through this process. This person that I am now is here because of the wonderful love that Mark and I shared and also because of the hell that we were both forced to endure. I have days were I get up and dive right into my day, my “to do” list, days that I suddenly realize its dinner time. But I still have days were my mind is whirling enough that I have trouble getting anything at all done. Those days are fewer and farther between but they still happen. When they do happen it seems like trying to force myself to concentrate only makes things worse, my anxiety kicks in and I get panicky about why this is still happening.
I’ve decide to own all of these things that are happening in my mind. Not to let them control me but to honor how I ended up here, how I ended up like this. To embrace my fucked upness. So this is the me you all get for now while I work through this process and slowly learn to live with this giant hole in my life. The abyss will never be filled, I just have to learn how to live without being swallowed up by it.