March 22, 2016
Today, right now, at this particular moment it feels like there’s no other option for me than to be angry. To be completely and thoroughly pissed off with my whole situation and the utter hopelessness of it. I went to an informal retirement party last week for two people at work. Everyone who leaves us gets a plaque, with a certain piece of equipment on it. After giving it to the two retirees someone remarked that they’ll have to get one for me. It was meant in a very kind way, a way to acknowledge that I had been a part of the team and had “earned my stripes”. I refused of course, reiterating that I was coming back. I’ve always maintained that until I had answers there is no reason to give up on the life I’ve created and worked hard for but I’m starting to wonder if that is just a naïve and immature way to live. Am I just being pigheaded? The longer this drags on the less chance it seems that there could be an easy fix. The longer it takes to diagnose the rarer I fear it is, which means the less resources have gone into treatment.
I’m angry that my son really seemed to want to stay home today, and he seemed like he would really benefit from a day with his Mom, but I couldn’t do it. The fat guy is camping out on my chest, the house is a mess, I’m too emotionally and physically tired to treat my boy with the compassion and love that he needs today. I hate myself for it. I tried to make up for it of course; we went to the library and read books and played with the storybags. But what he really needed was more time with me and more of my energy, and I just wasn’t able to do it. Instead I’m saving my energy to go out to a ballet tonight. Selfish. I like to think I would do anything for him, but I prove that wrong time and time again.
I’m angry that I depend on my husband so much. We used to be partners, friends, lovers and that’s all different now. We hardly have fun together anymore. The love is there but without the sex it’s just not the same. It’s not as close. We are never one person anymore, always two separate people, connected in spirit still but never in body. I miss being closer to him than anyone else, sharing something that only we can share, seeing him vulnerable and losing all his inhibitions in the moment of climax. On the weekends we pretty much just divide and conquer, getting all those chores and “things” done, leaving room for my afternoon nap on Saturday and, since Saturday tires me out so much, my mid-morning nap on Sunday. And no matter how many things I get rid of or how empty I make our house and garage there still seems to be things to do that I can’t keep up with. Vaccuuming used to be something I just did quickly (the house is only 800 square feet) and now it’s a goal for the entire day.
How can I possibly not be angry with all of this? And the irony of course is that anger takes up more energy than being calm, so I’m screwing myself over just by feeling what I feel.
Medical update: Cardiologist appointment in 6 weeks, gastrointestinologist in 8, internalist in 13. Do I just keep waiting for these appointments or do I cough up the dough to go to Mayo Clinic and give that a try. No guarantees for either option.