February 8, 2014
I've been sitting here searching for words, the right words...the problem is that there are too many stories to tell, too many thoughts in my head. But the thoughts are half thoughts, one begins and another thought interrupts... I'm flitting from worry to hope, from sadness to regret, from fear to denial, from panic to relief...
Just three weeks ago I simply could not believe that we had lost another one of our babies. I don't know if its normal or if it is some kind of self preservation or if its just just stupidity, but I always believe that things are going to be okay and then I am surprised when they aren't. I feel like I should have learned to expect the worst, but I don't, I still expect a happy ending. When Clishy made it through her ruptured heart valve I believed we were out of the woods...losing her knocked me flat.
I started to come up for air, using my work as a beautiful distraction, and hunkered down to recover.
But it was short lived.
Now I'm lying in a hotel room in Albuequerque, New Mexico. Because five days ago my dad had emergency surgery and was diagnosed with cancer.
Before I could get to him my brain was going wild. Every senario was chasing through my head. Apparently when you can't see and hear things first hand you make up your own story of what's happening. My stories were all over the map. Of course I was scared. Any time you hear the C word it's terrifying.
The night before I got on a plane it hit me: I might lose my parent. Of course I had been scared of him dying, but I hadn't thought of losing a parent. Do you get the difference? It's just not something I had ever thought of before. I would be in this world minus one of my birth parents, like being half an orphan. I'm not explaining it well, but I doubt it's explainable...it's just the realization that you could lose a parent...it was awful....
February 22, 2014
My life got flipped, turned upside down.
The theme song from The Fresh Prince of Bel Aire will not leave my head.
I'm home, my Dad has since been jetted (literally) to Houston from New Mexico for treatment. And my Dad's wife's 17 year old daughter has come to live with Tom and I.
My fingers would fall off before I could possibly explain it all...but we are making it work. My nerves are racked. Mainly from the sheer number of things going on each and every minute of each and every day. I might have a plethora of dogs but I realize I have built a fairly calm life. So this new chaos is a challenge for me. I'm working on rising to the occasion.
I want my Dad to get well, I want Dana to be happy here with Tom and I, I want to be able to work, I want Tom and I to be okay, I want my dogs to be healthy, I want to be able to take deep breaths, I want my family to be proud of me, I want to see my friends and get a big, long, comforting hug, I want to take a bath and read a book...I want a lot, don't I?