The past week and a half has been hellish. But once again, I managed to survive. Due in large part to my husband who has been nothing but strength and optimism. He has been doing triple duty, attending to my multitude needs, being a mom and a dad to our children, and trying to balance a seemingly insurmountable amount of work for his paying wages. His sighs and groans have now become so commonplace (and attenuated around me) that I've coined a new phrase to combine them. Grighs. There goes Ramon and his occasional grighs. Rather unsporting of me but it's the only way I could overlook these sporadic acts of melodrama. Yes, he is more than entitled. Yes, he is deserving of far more sympathy than I could muster. Yes, my ungrateful wretched self is damn lucky.
I guess being preoccupied with being sick takes up most of your time and energy. I spent the past week in a relentless battle with nausea. Yup, idiot me, knowing my severe sensitivity to opiates agreed to take a dose of methadone. There goes the few pounds I managed to gain. You know you're getting too skinny when you could slide size 0 jeans down your hips without unbuttoning them. Fortunately, I recoup fast.
I also started treatment and have been having a reasonably tolerable time. The pain is actually under better control.
Thank you, Holy Father, for all my blessings and don't ever let me take anything for granted again. Especially my husband, who has done so much for me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment