It's been nineteen months today, and I still feel the loss as sharply as I did the day it happened. Most days I can get by okay, but with everything that's happening around me and to me right now, it's so hard. I figure Denise is saying, "Boy, I'm glad I don't have to deal with her on the 3rd anymore!" It was always a bad grief day for me. Still is. It knocks the wind out of me, and I never know when to expect the tears to hit me. Tonight it was right in the middle of dinner.
I was back in the doctor's office today with a severe bladder infection from the caths. They said it usually happens this way in the beginning; you're just more susceptible for awhile. Two more prescriptions (short-term, thankfully) have been added to my impressive assortment. You know, if it ends up being MS, at least they can start me on the meds to slow down the progression. If it's not MS, I don't know what to expect. I don't know if I'll have to do this the rest of my life, but all I can think of right now is - get through the next one. That's all I can deal with. The pain has been bad, and I can't take any NSAIDs. So I just put a heating pad across my lap and wait it out.
It's just been an all-around shitty day, and I can't come up with anything mystical or positive to say except that I'm glad my daughter doesn't have to see me going through all of this. When I woke up in the ICU in 2007 after bleeding out, she was standing in the room. She hadn't talked to me in months. I opened my eyes and said, "Hey, sweetie! What are you doing here?"
She burst into tears and said, "Mom? Are you okay? Are you gonna be okay?"
We talked for a long time before she left that day. It touched me to see the emotion in her over me, because it always seemed to me like she didn't care what I thought or what happened to me. She was always so troubled. But as she got older, she began to be a little more demonstrative of her love.
Three months before she died, we were in the kitchen washing dishes. She could see that I was upset about something that had happened that day, and she turned off the faucet.
"Hey," she said. "I love you, Mom. You know that? Come here..."
And she grabbed me in a big hug. I will never forget that as long as I live. I can close my eyes and smell her hair and feel her arms around me. I miss her so much...but she doesn't have to stand in an ICU room ever again and worry over me. It clearly upset her when she saw me ill.
My son is upset now, seeing how much pain I've been in. I've tried to hide it from him, spending most of my time in my room. Didn't tell him what was going on at all until I started to see the furrow in his brow. He's no fool. And I've downplayed what it could mean. I don't want him to worry that I'll end up in the shape Denise's brother is in. The good thing is that I know he'll be here for me if I need him. My son and I have a relationship that is amazing, and I love that young man so much. I'm so proud of him. If I were feeling better, it might not take me so much time to do things like finish my homework so I can go out and have fun with him. But we did meet Linda and her son at Borders for coffee and games Monday night, in spite of how much homework I had or how I was feeling. Linda always makes me laugh, and she's a very intelligent woman. The four of us had a good time that night, with lots of laughter. And we ended up closing the place down again. That always happens when she and I get together. She's a very good friend.
Okay, I guess I did have something a little positive to say. Didn't know I had it in me tonight. My tears will dry and tomorrow will be another day. But another mom I know is facing 20 months since her son died tomorrow. And a very good friend of mine is coming up on a year since her son died of an accidental overdose.
It's tough times around the holidays, particularly for moms who have a piece of their heart in heaven. Call us greedy. We want our children back down here with us.
Peace - D