Today started off in a fragmented, surreal kind of way and is not getting any better.
The boy’s alarm went off at 5:30 AM. The next time we heard an alarm go off, it was mine. At 7:48 AM. The boy was already 48 minutes late for work.
He is just walking out the front door as I come out of the bedroom. I am confronted by cat puke in the hallway and more in the living room. Thanks, kids. Just what Mommy wanted first thing in the morning!
Accidents galore on the way to work. Somehow, I still manage to make it in ten minutes early. Of course, an e-mail from the boy’s mom was waiting in my inbox.
I have NOTHING to do but sit here and twiddle my thumbs. I may go and collate some carbonless later. Maybe.
Another email from the boy’s mom. She tells me the boy stopped at the hospital on his way in to work. I lose it. I call him, flipping out.
Conversation ends and I go have a cry in the bathroom. I’m so stressed out about the whole situation.
I CAN’T DEAL WITH SEEING HIM IN SO MUCH PAIN ANYMORE.
He is so miserable. I want him fixed. I want him to not be in pain any more. I want the fucking doctors TO PULL THEIR HEADS OUT OF THEIR COLLECTIVE ASSES AND FIGURE OUT WHAT IS WRONG AND FUCKING FIX HIM!!!!
I want him to have relief for more than a few days at a time. I don’t want him to feel like a fucking pincushion. I want him off the half-dozen medications that cloud his mind, make him constantly tired and high as a kite. I hate seeing the look in his eyes, the expressions on his face. I can see the pain mirrored there. I hate hearing the hiss of breath as another pain stabs at him.
I would do anything for this man. He has brought me such happiness…happiness that I only used to dream about. And now, to see him so miserable, to see him in such pain on a daily basis, is simply killing me.
I feel so helpless right now.