Falling short of a panic attack
You know: when you’re maxed out by the crap seemingly piling up on you.
Not that any individual point is at critical mass. Unfortunately, I’ve been there with my husband three times. The first only a couple of years after we’d married when a heart attack resulted in stints being put in.
The story becomes convoluted when in mingles memories of my father’s heart disease episodes, my sisters battle with diabetes, first heart attack at 41, long before being diagnosed with Type II, which gradually attacked her kidneys.
Nows the time in our lives when every day holds a medical event: just last night I caved into joining Rob to watch NEW AMSTERDAM finale – FREAKY applies here!!
What else could you call when you’re so frustrated you text your ex about his care of your son?
Like going away for the 2 weeks off (our co-parenting agreement on the amicable care of our children about 15 years ago undergoing a “Collaborative Divorce”)–and when you come home, your plants are all withered and dying.
That’s the sense I got.
I’m constantly on alert should anything happen again to hubby who suffers with brain trauma after an aneurysm Feb 2018 and seizures Feb 2019.
I don’t have to
of me sobbing to
9-1-1 to please
hurry, my husbands
dying from a stroke
from my eyes’ perspective.
He’s subsequently been
for an MRI followed by
an angioplasty where his
him either one of his stints
was bent, or the coil in his
brain was warped, that they
may go back in, remove his
skull cap ( NOT the wearable-
-fashion kind either).
The reason I wasn’t in the room where hubby visited the brilliant doctor [He’d told me he’d asked where I was].
In his recent no-holds characteristic he’s developed more strongly and loudly as a result of the brain trauma (not an expert or medical professional, strictly a wife’s opinion); Rob told him that I was driving around the medical centre:: much larger than a mere hospital::because we couldn’t afford to park with the measly pittance we get paid on his long term disability benefits.
That was nothing compared to the inability to breath I had while shopping with hubby on Mother’s Day.
Another habit he’s developed is wanting to go down every single aisle at the grocery store.
This prolonged my discomfort stemming from fear from thoughts asking whether our next step would have to be the food bank.
Yeah, there’s more. And it’s only Wednesday-one day!
I wrote a follow up email to a potential employer to see whether he’d come to a decision to hire me? (During the interview he’d said they’d come to a decision today).
The fact that I give people face value: believing what they tell me. However, I’m Ms Accountable to what is said (does this mean that they don’t commit to their words?)
The suspicion developed and came to pass when I was in Vancouver in March after my baby brother had passed away in the hospital where he was under their care.
That is horrible.
Not lucky is what keeps replaying over and over in my head. It HAS sucked the last year or more ago … if you only look at it one way.
I wouldn’t trade this chance to still be with Rob.
I am lucky because he survived.
I’m just going to keep in breathing regularly and dig down deep for optimism.
I had an ultrasound and mammogram today. It was confirmed there is a lump.
I immediately got booked in for a biopsy June 3 to find out whether the lump is cancerous.
AND THATS FREAY I to X combined!!
Hope you’re having a nice holiday – don’t want to spoil it HOWEVER I want to reach out to you directly about Kyle – he needs rehab desperately. I’m guessing he’s drinking a 15 pack a day, in fact, yesterday I got a sense of dead drunk walking as he’d stopped somewhere and drank getting wasted before he got home by six … I’m tempted to take him to emergency it’s that bad.
Yeah … well he got here last Thur-not even a week. Sunday I directed him to take a shower and he lied he had : I addressed it with him last night asking how he feels about lying. Was it easier to lie than a hassle when he’s honest- he said yeah