It’s been 2 months since Himself had his heart attack. We’ve made it. All the paperwork has been done and is in place…the official Big Decision stuff that had to be done, even in the middle of the admonitions by everyone to make no big decisions for a year.
People. Make a will. Go ahead and make your family mad for being morbid, and make funeral plans. Get yourselves in order. If at all possible, have some savings set aside to cover costs because death is expensive and the people grieving can’t think clearly and if all that stuff is set up and in place, they will be grateful beyond words. If they aren’t there will be people who will make sure they know how fortunate they are. I am in the best possible circumstance here and it was grueling. I cannot imagine the hardship death would be on someone who doesn’t have the kind of support I have had.
Here’s another piece of advise: Get yourself a group. It might be a bookclub or a church ladies group of some sort, or whatever. Group support, the sort of emotional and physical support I have had has been beyond value. Having people step in and do the stuff I was not capable of thinking about, that is what the group is for. Laundry, feeding everyone, holding my hand, praying, going to the beach, talking to, crying with…so incredibly important. I can’t even emphasize how important support like this has been. Even if it’s just a couple of people…this is something that would be incredibly difficult to do alone, and I am a very loner type of person…groups make me nervous but having spent 5+ years working on relationships with a group of ladies has been an incredible blessing through the whole mess.
Ok, that’s my advice for today.
So much has changed in the past 2 months. Not just outwardly, but inside as well. I’ve gone from being soft and dependent to being organized and confident. Not that I was not confident before, but the things I am doing now…phone calls, arguing with people, looking out for the best interest of our children…pretty amazing stuff. I would look at a thing and hand it over to Himself “here, you do it, you’re better at this…” now I am better at it.
A lot has been shoved to the side as well. Leisure things like yard work and gardening. No time, y’all. Now I get it, how people who work have to do other stuff…the yard is a mess…but eh…not really a priority and I will eventually deal with it. The house is the same way, not a priority.
Hopefully all that stuff will swing back around into do-ability but good grief, the paperwork, phone calls, forms, this, that and the other. Just about the time everything seems to be settling in BOOM, someone gets sick or something breaks or a phone call demanding a signature…what…ev…er. Leeme alone I wanna watch Orphan Black.
Let’s see…here’s how it goes…the dog has a mysterious swelling that requires a vet visit. It’s an abscessed tooth that results in antibiotics and another vet visit. Meantime, #4’s asthma is getting intense thus a doctor’s visit, and a long consultation due to crappy insurance and a financial discussion with him regarding medications that both work and are affordable on my very fixed income. Also, financial finagling, to figure out just how to deal with this very fixed income and trying to decide if school or employment would be better, and can I get a job that doesn’t involve fast food or night shifts. Fortunately I am not suffering, it is just a logistics thing and I won’t do both school and work because #4’s world has been turned upside down and the thought of leaving him at home in the evenings is not acceptable.
So much to think about. Happily I am better able to think. The waves of sorrow are still intense, but the constant rock of anxiety is becoming easier to bear, or maybe smaller…I can’t tell. Instead of bursting into uncontrollable tears at any time, it happens in the evening, and I can talk about Himself with fondness and love, mostly without the threat of tears (not always, but most of the time). I can pray without crying now, and thank God for the 30 years with Himself, without wishing these 2 months were all a bad dream. I don’t jump at seeing a big white truck, thinking it’s Himself. Now #4 and I share our sadness but are able to keep going and function. It’s still very new, but scars are forming and I can see we will be OK. And we will.
My attitude toward stuff that might be really upsetting is this: You can’t do anything to me that is worse than has already been done, so I am not stressing out about it.
#4’s car making scary noises and leaking all over the driveway. Meh…get a tow truck and take it to the shop. Let someone else deal with it.
#4’s asthma: Medical science is a wonderful thing, and since he isn’t turning blue or gasping for air, we will get this dealt with. I am concerned, but not worried.
Health insurance: yes, our new policy kind of sucks compared to the coverage we had with Himself’s work, but we have it and a catastrophic event won’t bankrupt us. So I have to pay for Dr’s visits and prescriptions, the doctor is great at working out meds that both work and are relatively inexpensive.
Weeds: Call it a Wildflower Meadow, or maybe a Wetlands That Cannot Be Altered Due To EPA Regulations and we’re all good.
Dog poo on the patio: At least they’re going outside, right?
That brown spot on the ceiling from water: That’s why there’s Kilz. It will get dealt with before we move out. No hurry.
image by graphics99.com
See, no real worries. Nothing that can’t be handled. I suppose those things could be looked at as an assortment of straws seeking to break this camel’s back, but I see them as ordinary stuff that I just don’t have the time to manage at the moment. Except for the medical things…all that other stuff…meh. If someone doesn’t like it, they can come cut my grass and paint my ceilings.