Letting the Anger Go....And Letting My Heart Feel Again

Every few months Todd has to have an EGD (Esophagogastroduodenoscopy)....a procedure to examine his esophagus to see if he has any varices, which can be life threatening.  Today was that day for him.  We were up early for a 7am time that he needed to be there, me being a little short tempered as always because no matter what I do I can't seem to get him out of the door when we need to.  As we were sitting in the waiting room for them to call him back, a cute little old couple came in, probably about in their 80's.  They sat down near us, next to each other, holding hands.  I could see out of the corner of my eye the man was watching Todd and I....we were sitting across from each other, not really talking while I filled out all of the paperwork that comes with being at these appointments.  In a whisper loud enough for his wife to hear (and me who happened to overhear) the man said, "Mary?" She said, "Hmm"  Then he said, "You are a wonderful wife......and you are my very best friend."  Now for reasons I'm not sharing with the class, my emotions have been right on the surface for the last few days, so cue the tears, and me not being able to control them as they ran down my cheeks.  Then Todd noticing....and just looking at me suddenly concerned and worried asking me what was wrong.  All I could do was shake my head and say, "nothing".    Then me frantically trying to stop the tears....because Hello....I'm sitting in the middle of a waiting room, and I'm starting to feel really stupid for having this reaction.   A couple of days ago Todd had to have an Ultrasound on his legs. As we were walking, being escorted by a nice little old lady showing us where to go, I was holding on to Todd's arm.  He was a little unsteady on his feet and his legs were hurting.  The woman walking with us turned to me when we stopped so Todd could use the drinking fountain, and said, "He's very lucky to have you."   And me being the smart alec that I am said, "I don't know, I'm sure most days he would disagree."  and she said, "Oh....I don't think so."  I just smiled, because truthfully I'm not always that great,  and looking back I should have been pushing him in a wheelchair, if only I would have known how far it was to walk.

For so long I was fighting with my feelings....my anger.   I could see the changes that were happening in him and quite frankly I was so angry I didn't care.  After all, it is his fault that he got sick....his alcoholism made him sick.   My heart was hardened, I didn't want to feel anything.  Because feeling meant I cared....and I didn't want to care.  Why should I care about someone who I felt ignored me for a big chunk of our marriage?  Someone who wasn't there for me when I really needed him, but now expects me to be there for him when he needs me.  There are a lot of people in this world that would have walked away a long time ago.  I mean really I put up with a lot of crap for a long time.  Todd isn't the same man now that I married, and I'm not the same person he married.  Personality wise...yes.   But we've both grown and found ourselves and changed.   Todd still has his sense of humor, and is still quick with a come back.  But he's older....in his body and mind.  He has a hard time remembering things.  A couple of days ago he texted me and asked where the heck I was.  It was 8:00 at night.....I was at work.  He had just woken up from a 4 hour nap and thought it was morning....totally confused and thrown for a little bit.  He sleeps so much now, his body is so worn out. This disease is slowly....painfully taking away his life, and all his doctor can do right now is try to slow down the progression of it, while trying to keep him encouraged.  I'm still angry about this disease, it's really hard not to be. However, I'm letting my heart feel again.  I hold his hand when he needs his hand held.  I sit with him when I know he's feeling scared and alone. And I cry when I over hear conversations like today, because I know I'm Todd's best friend, and I haven't been a very good one.  It's time to let the anger go, it's time to let my heart feel all the things I've been avoiding.  It's time that I stop feeling sorry for myself and start helping Todd through this.  It's time to start caring again.

I Like Sticking to a Routine

I'm a have a routine and stick to it kind of gal....that is until I get tired of it and switch to something else and start all over again.  I'm not a huge fan of change, but I don't like things to stay the same forever either.   I can eat the same thing for breakfast everyday for weeks, maybe even months.   When my children were babies I had them sleeping through the night by the time they were 2 months old.  (I've mentioned I don't do well when I'm exhausted).  I had a routine....a schedule for them and I stuck to it.  I was blessed with very good babies.  As they got older they had their naps and meals and went to bed every night at the same time.....I didn't have much of a life back then.   I had rules and schedules and I was pretty strict about keeping to them.  And then they got older and I got older and all that flew out the window.   I still have schedules that we stick to, but it mainly consists of chores being done.  One of my own routines is having a workout schedule.  I like to workout at the same time everyday... I get up, I workout, I eat breakfast, and I get on with my day....whatever the day brings.  Six days a week this is how my days went.  I have a really hard time with things getting planned during my morning routine...appointments....school stuff....whatever.   It's kind of like riding a bike and having someone put a stick in my wheel.  It throws me off.  Not sure why, but it really irritates me.  Most evenings I look forward to that morning workout and if I can't do it I feel.....blah.  When I started working nights.....man, it threw me completely off balance.  But, I started my workouts and stuck to them 6 days a week a couple months in advance because I knew going back to work would do that.  I'm still trying to find my balance.  I've dropped from working out 6 days a week to 3 - 4 days.  Mixing in even more appointments for Todd is a challenge, but I refuse to give up.  So far I've lost 25 pounds and I feel good.  The hardest part of all this is realizing that even if I can only workout 3 days a week it's still better than nothing.   Breaking from my routine that I had for so long is  REALLY hard for me, it shouldn't be, but it is.  Figuring out when to eat now....even harder.   Shifting my schedule and being at work until 3am means I don't have very much time in my day to do things anymore, unless I sleep a lot less. Me sleeping less means I get cranky....and me being cranky means I'm not fun to be around..... I like being fun.....I like sleep.  Not having a good routine right now is so incredibly frustrating, however, I'm not willing to lose sight of the goals that I set.  If I want something bad enough, I will find a way to get it done....even if it means not being able to have a set schedule.  I figure if I can get over this hurdle.....well honestly it will be a really big one for me.  Maybe it seems silly and wouldn't be a big deal for someone else, but for me it is.

I Admit it......I Don't Know How to Deal With all This

It's 10:30am on Friday, I've just finished my workout after getting kids off to their last day of school, and I'm getting ready to eat breakfast.  I hear a knock on the wall, so I walk down to the garage.  Todd is struggling to get out of his chair, I notice a large cigarette burn in his shirt that wasn't there yesterday.  He's been up since about 7:30 Thursday morning.  When I say up I mean he's pushed himself so far passed the point of exhaustion that he has very little concept of time or how much has gone by, and he falls asleep where ever he sits down. This is just a part of what happens with this awful disease. I knew he came in the bedroom to get something at about 5am this morning and I begged him to lay down.  Sleepily he said, "I'll be back in a little bit," and left the room and shut the door.  When I got up a couple of hours later I found milk spilled all over the kitchen table.  I'm assuming he fell asleep while eating a bowl of cereal......I know he did. This isn't the first time and it won't be the last.  I got him upstairs, he is in a ton of pain because his feet have been down more than up.  The wounds on his legs are hurting and his legs are swelling from the fluid building up.  I get the bed ready for him to lay down, and he tries to convince me he needs to eat. I argue with him for a few minutes because he just ate not that long ago and he NEEDS to rest .  Finally I make him a deal.  "I'll tell you what, you lay down, if you're not asleep in the next 20 minutes then I'll fix you something to eat."   At this moment I can hear him snacking on granola bars, and I'm praying he falls asleep.  If not he's going to eat which will take a good hour....smoke....and probably not get in bed for a couple more hours.  He goes through these phases at least once a week sometimes twice.  I used to sit up with him begging and pleading and crying and trying to desperately get him to go to bed.  My temper always got the best of me, I got angry...really angry, and I said awful....really awful things to him during these times. I do not do well when I'm exhausted. It all started driving me crazy.  I always tolerated his family, but when these behaviors started, I started to HATE his family, for everything.  I hate them for not being here for their own flesh and blood, I hate them for making me take care of everything and offering little to no support. I hate them for blaming me for everything going on in my marriage.  I refuse to even speak to most of his family...except for one of his sisters, and even she only checks in with him once in a while, and gets irritated if he doesn't return her calls or texts.  Half the time he doesn't even notice he's gotten one. And even though I love Todd, I hate HIM for putting our family through this.  I have a hard time when people say who cares if I drink excessively, smoke, party, live for today ...or whatever because it's my body and I just want to live my life and be happy.   That's all fine and dandy, but when all this catches up to you and heaven forbid (because I wouldn't wish these illnesses on anyone) you get sick.  Who the Hell do you think is going to take care of you?  The people who watched you and begged you to stop that's who, and now have to watch you die because of it, and sacrifice their lives in the process, because we didn't want to willingly destroy our own lives, but are the only ones who are here to care for you.  I think it's selfish.  Who am I to judge though right?  I definitely have my own faults. We are not perfect.  But when you have to deal with something like this first hand, you go through a range of emotions, and anger is right up there at the top.

It's 11:45am.  I haven't heard anything in the bedroom for  awhile so I just walked down the hall to peek in on him....sleeping like a baby.  I was successful this time, it isn't always like that. I'm hoping he sleeps until I leave for work tonight. I don't stay up with him anymore, I can't.  I can't take care of him the way he needs me to, if  I'm so exhausted I can't function.  Instead I get into bed some nights knowing he's going to fall asleep somewhere else and I pray that nothing happens.  I don't know what else to do.  Some days are just hard, some days I want to get in my car and drive as far as I can, and some days can be so overwhelming that I have a hard time figuring out how to deal with it all, and for a time I shut down.   I'm not sure the best way to deal with all this.  Each day is a little different, many days I don't worry at all.....and many days that's all I do.  The only thing that is certain, is up to this point we've made it through all the hard days.....and my plan is to continue doing so however I manage to deal with it.