Not A Fan of Hospitals

Since you’re not still here, this week really put things in perspective for me.

Got all my test results back… really nothing to worry about.  The heart news has been 10 years in the making—I consider my anxiety to be debilitating and it’s a weight off my shoulders to know that I’m at least on the radar with a personal care physician again.

And then I think back to last January, when you had just started chemo.  We thought you had pneumonia in November and by January you were getting chemo and radiation.  It wasn’t a quick trip to the doctor for you to get medicine and tests—you got stuck with a much bigger problem and a worst case scenario.  I had two weeks of testing and diagnoses, you had 8 months of tests and treatments and hail mary’s…

So where do I stand in this?  Probably a mix between lucky and still young enough to be healthy-ish.  Ashamed, because I haven’t kept up with a cardiologist since I was diagnosed 10 years ago.  Guilty, because I kinda got off scott-free in comparison to your journey.  Sad, because I still just miss you so much and you were at the top of the list to call with the test results.  I feel a little bit in limbo because it feels almost like a nightmare that should have ended by now.  Sort-of like this was something we had to endure for a while but we’re just waiting for you to come back from a long vacation or something…

I know we’re all learning to cope a little bit more each day, and I’m grateful for the people who surround me and our family.  We’re lucky for what we had with you and we’re lucky for what we’ve still got.  We’re lucky to get the signs we get from you, and the peace of knowing you’re watching over us.

I know you’re in a better place, and I know you’re doing great and you’re healthy now, but I would give anything to give you a great big hug if you were still here.