If it were only me . . .

Coping with leukemia and back problems is one thing but doing so while one’s spouse is recovering from a stroke is, at times, too much to take. I offer up some thoughts as to how I’m feeling on this day.

 

If it were only me . . . I would be more lonely.

If it were only me . . . I’d be more scared.

If it were only me . . . there might be fewer medical bills. Might.

If it were only me . . . the journey would be more difficult.

If it were only me . . . the world would be upside down.

But it’s not only me. The world may not be upside down but it seems cock-eyed.

It’s both of us.

Pam and me.

Sharing is part of surviving.

But sharing can be bittersweet. It pains me to observe Pam as she goes through a physical therapy session (it’s painful for her) on her road back from suffering a stroke late last year.

It pains her when I go to a cancer treatment session at Methodist, even though it’s as an outpatient. She worries about me.

Experiencing a life-altering episode is one thing. When it happens to both people almost at the same time, well, it’s a double whammy, and both people try to cope as best they can.

As I’m finally getting back to complete this blog draft today, I’ve already learned it’s a busy afternoon for Pam. I happen to be home while all this is going on. Seems the physical therapist is due here any moment . . . wait, there’s the doorbell; make that due now. Excuse me for a while.

Okay, back now . . . phone rings; it’s the nurse for her weekly visit. She’ll be here in 30 minutes. That should be followed by the occupational therapist in about an hour.

Whew!

This is good. Pam’s getting a workout, though I don’t think all three people were originally slated to come by the same afternoon. It’s also good that I’m here today to take all this in.

But, it’s wearing on me. My back is tightening up. Pain pill or a glass of wine? Ha! Easy choice (a nice Pinot Noir)!!

This is not an average day. I don’t know if I know what one of those looks like anymore. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I guess I’ll face that tomorrow.

As for now and today, I’m here for Pam and being a part of her world. On this day, that’s what I sense my role is. Most everything else takes a back seat. Maybe it’s not meant for me to be doing anything else on this day, I don’t know.

Wait . . . what’s that . . . the doorbell . . . the nurse is here. Gotta go.

Til next time.

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2 thoughts on “If it were only me . . .

  1. I met you and Pam thanksgivings at Jody’s. My husband and I set across the table from you two. I remember Pam telling you what the doctor said you should not eat. I was shocked to hear later that very evening Pam had a stroke. I can see how challenging this is for the two of you, but what a blessing you have one another. I pray the two of you will make a full recovery! Blessings~ Francine
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