It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything.
I’m sitting on the couch wondering what to do with all my thoughts and then I remembered that THIS is the place where I put all my thoughts. So here goes…
I feel like there are rubber bands being stretched and put on a ball. A ball of rubber bands in all different colors. If it weren’t my life, it would be intriguing. Artistic.
But it is my life so I don’t really look at the mix of colors; instead I feel the compression of the bands getting tighter and tighter. Pressure in my head, shoulders, arms, legs. It’s all over my body, even though this is not a physical pressure. I still feel it physically.
Children? Not too stressful, but lingering uncertainties about the future. Compounded by:
Last Friday I received a phone call at work. The thing that lingers on the periphery of my mind but I didn’t ever expect to actually happen.
Spouse was in an accident. Driving a utv on the driveway at the cabin to pack down snow so I could get in with the car later in the day. He hit a patch of ice and it slid then flipped, crushing his leg underneath. He was alone, without a phone. He spent an unknown length of time – at least an hour – sitting on the snow and ice trying to chisel out a hole to get his leg out. It didn’t work.
The neighbor lady came home early from work and found him. The furniture delivery people arrived shortly thereafter and were able to lift the vehicle off his leg. He got himself into her truck and she drove him to the nearest hospital.
I met him there – he called me from her phone on the way to the hospital, 45 minutes from my office. Yada yada…broken tibia and fibula…transfer to a trauma center in the same city that I had just driven from. But he had to wait a few hours for transport. Except that there was also a glossed over little detail about kidney function, some medical terminology that I don’t remember, stabilizing him before transport, etc. So all the time he was in a bed in the trauma room and I giggled because his broken leg was considered a “trauma”, it was actually much more complicated.
Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to express.
I’m tired. I’m tired of not sleeping well. I’m tired of sleeping on the couch. I’m tired of not sitting down to relax until 9:30 p.m. when the patient is finally tucked in bed with his ice pack, medication supply, glass of water, phones, eye glasses and whatever other bits he needs to get through to morning.
I’m tired of work stress. I’m tired of dogs that bark at nothing. I’m tired of being the only person who loads and unloads the dishwasher.
Funny how a break in a leg can lead to a break inside me. But not funny at all.