Meandering thru the Muck

It’s been ages since I’ve posted anything lately.  My desire to write and journal this journey swings like a pendulum.  I don’t exactly know what position I am today- UP or DOWN.  I do know though that I’ve been alone here in Wichita while my Love, David has been recuperating up in Lenexa, KS.  He has been under the perfect care of his mother.  I mean, come on-what Mother wouldn’t be the best person to care for you-no matter what age you are?!

Dave and his mother Connie

I began a job here in Wichita July 2nd and have been pretty much absent in Dave’s recovery since then.  He has to maintain a very close distance to both the hospital and the clinic in order to address the 10 million things that happen to a Bone Marrow Transplant recipient.  So far, Dave has done splendidly.  Much of his success has to do with the very attitude he has adopted as a natural part of his psyche which is both amazing and unbelievable at times.  He has acclimated himself to the constant visits to the clinic, the dosages and delivery of a vast array of meds, the total and complete loss of his hair (now when I say total…think about that for a minute!), the tired malaise and lack of appetite and probably just the tiresome monotony of just being not well.

But today I can proudly say that his energy is coming back, his appetite is on the upswing, he’s kicked at least two viruses in the butt, tossed one fungus to the curb and sticks to a good daily regimented compliance of taking his meds.  I’m very, very proud of him.   I love him more than I can ever say.

still my baby

But now I am going to vent a little.  Stop me if you think I’m being horribly selfish and UGLY here, because actually I am going to be horribly selfish and ugly.  Yes I know Dave is the one that is sick.  It’s horrendous to think that it happened to a sweetheart like him.  Shoulda been me.  But it wasn’t.  Meantime, I feel as if I have no right to complain, or struggle or cry or bitch or moan or whine about anything because after all….HE is the one that is sick.  NOT me.  So shame on me for feeling sorry for myself because I’ve been left alone and there aren’t hundreds of people telling me every single day how wonderful I am.  Because I’m not. I’m also not important in this scenario.  I’m suppose to be strong and brave and keep the house running.  The house that is old and decrepit.  The water leaking in the basement around the AC.  The washer that won’t shut off.  The gross rust that bleeds out of the ice maker in the frig.  The dog and cat that act like I’m there to provide solely for their nutrition, nothing more.  The yard and pond that need constant attention.  The shit that I have to clean up from said animals. Oh ad nauseam.  I know, it’s all the little pathetic things and really how dare I complain?  Gratitude is what I am supposed to be feeling right?  GRATITUDE.   But today I’m not.  I’m tired and I’m sad. I’m tired of slapping on that happy, confident face and faking my way through the day.  I can’t share this with Dave, with anyone.  They will only think I’m an asshole.  Maybe I am.   Hmmm…well I guess if he read this, he knows now.  Sorry Baby, but sometimes I wanna scream!