I had a conversation with my father the other day. He was rolling his eyes while I whined about how tired I had been lately with my new shift at work. For a reminder, I'm working 24 hours now in the pharmacy. Compared to my 13 hours I worked previously and the 0 hours I worked before that. I'm also working until 5:30pm on those work days so I am no longer free to leave when the going gets tough. I have to stay and wade through the muck of late drop-offs and add flu shots. I. Am. In. Hell.
So anyway, my father loves me. He really does but he finds my exhaustion a joke. And even funnier, he's right. My father has worked for over 50 years at a 40+ hour a week job his entire life. He's managed people, he's yelled at people, he's fired people. He's done it all. In fact, he's done what "most" working people have done. I have never worked a 40 hour week in my entire lifetime. I've worked "maybe" 32 hours but never more. Yes, I know, you can roll your eyes too. I rolled my eyes as well with that epiphany.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a lot of things. I wanted to be a Special Ed. teacher. I wanted to be pediatrician. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be a lot of things actually but the journey to be those people required.....an education past high school. I'm not a stupid woman. I'm pretty smart actually, but I hated school. I lasted three weeks in college....junior college that is but it was 3 weeks. My parents were smart. They said they wouldn't pay for the first semester but they would pay for the second semester. I never made it to semester two. Money well saved.
All I wanted to be was a mother. I wanted to be married. I wanted kids. But most of all, I just wanted "life" to start. You remember that feeling? When you're young and you can't wait to be an "adult" so you can do whatever you want? But now you're an "adult" and you can't quite figure out what the hell you were waiting for. I don't necessarily feel that way, I know what I was waiting for. I just wish I would've savored the freedom of being young. It wasn't really all that bad. Why did I rush to the responsibilities of being an adult? Why couldn't I dig my toes in the sand a little longer and embrace the simplicity of being a kid without a care in the world?
So on this day of non-labor, I plan on spending it with my kids and observing the simplicity of being a kid. I plan on sitting with my parents and embracing the act of being an adult with the people I rebelled against so long ago. And then maybe later? I'm gonna crack open a beer and toast to the fact that I majorly screwed up rushing toward a life as an adult. And then after the toast, I'm gonna go to bed because I have to go to work tomorrow. :) Happy Labor Day everybody. I'll see ya tomorrow. The "Other" Monday of the week.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Showing posts with label moments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moments. Show all posts
7/27/10
Still got nothing....
...so I'll just continue with the story.
Y'all know about my moment but I have somewhat of a gigantic circle of people that experienced their own moments the day M was diagnosed with diabetes. I had warned a bunch of people that morning what I feared. There was a lot of, "Don't think that!" and, "I think it's just something simple." I continued to keep the positive thoughts but I am a chronic Web MD viewer and Web MD was screaming at me what the signs were.
After the doctor said those words, "It's diabetes." he left the room to start the admission process into Children's Dallas. I grabbed my phone and sent out a mass text to my circle of people. I often cringe at the feeling of being behind that text.
"It's diabetes. We're being admitted into Children's Legacy and being care flighted to Dallas after they stabilize her."
How horrible to be the recipient of a text like that. It must've felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I could've done it better but at that moment, I couldn't speak. No words could come out of my mouth.
My poor mother was at lunch and was at Home Depot. She had almost made it out the door but alas the text reached her in the garden department. My beautiful mother just sat down on a bag of fertilizer and cried. Every scenario that I had experienced, she was also experiencing. How do I fix this? What do we do? Another experience was, why is everybody just walking past her? Seriously, my mother has gray hair and nobody stopped to see if she was okay. You gotta love people!
My husband never got the text. This is a joke that will go down in the books. M's dad was at Sports Academy picking up empty drums and loading it onto a truck. He left his phone in the other car and was in reality doing something he shouldn't have been doing on his lunch. I kept waiting for him to storm in and demand control of the situation so I could finally break down. He wasn't coming.
As M and I walked through the hospital, into elevators, I kept checking my phone. I kept pressing the call button to call my husband but I never followed through. I looked at M and said, "I can't talk to him." M just calmly said, "Just page him mom, he'll come if you page him." I think I knew that but I'd already sent the text of doom....I didn't want to follow it up with a page of doom. I did though but I just typed three words.
"I need you."
We were in the car on our way to Children's Legacy when he finally called. I was driving like a lost, old lady looking for a garage sale. When my husband asked, "What's up?" I knew he had no clue what was coming. My heart was already broken but to actually say the words would do nothing for it. I couldn't get anything out except, "I need....I need....I need." That was all I could say. By the third plea, my husband finally got it. "Just say it and send me a text of where you are."
That was my husband's moment. He had 3 drums in the bed of his truck. He was over 50 miles away from us. His wife was on the phone with him barely holding on to reality. My Mr. Fix-it couldn't fix it. In the 30 minutes it took him to finally get to the hospital, he'd seen the text of doom, replayed in his head the pleading words, "I need....I need....I need," and still wasn't where he should've been.
He often apologizes for not being there when he should've. I've never felt like I was abandoned or alone that day. The amount of people that reached out to us and took control of an otherwise uncontrollable situation was huge. My mother finally got off that bag of fertilizer and picked my K up from school for me. My friend G immediately started getting my prescriptions covered by my insurance. My social network of friends continued to lend me their hands or their ears so I didn't feel so alone. My husband finally arrived at the hospital and allowed me a shoulder to lean on. My daughter M remained brave throughout the day when I needed bravery to prevail.
It was one thing that created a couple dozen moments.
My moral of this story? When I see an old lady sitting on a bag of fertilizer crying, I'm for damn sure gonna stop and ask if she's okay! :) Happy Tuesday everybody! I am quite sure today is gonna fly by seeing as it's already noon and I've only accomplished this today.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Y'all know about my moment but I have somewhat of a gigantic circle of people that experienced their own moments the day M was diagnosed with diabetes. I had warned a bunch of people that morning what I feared. There was a lot of, "Don't think that!" and, "I think it's just something simple." I continued to keep the positive thoughts but I am a chronic Web MD viewer and Web MD was screaming at me what the signs were.
After the doctor said those words, "It's diabetes." he left the room to start the admission process into Children's Dallas. I grabbed my phone and sent out a mass text to my circle of people. I often cringe at the feeling of being behind that text.
"It's diabetes. We're being admitted into Children's Legacy and being care flighted to Dallas after they stabilize her."
How horrible to be the recipient of a text like that. It must've felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I could've done it better but at that moment, I couldn't speak. No words could come out of my mouth.
My poor mother was at lunch and was at Home Depot. She had almost made it out the door but alas the text reached her in the garden department. My beautiful mother just sat down on a bag of fertilizer and cried. Every scenario that I had experienced, she was also experiencing. How do I fix this? What do we do? Another experience was, why is everybody just walking past her? Seriously, my mother has gray hair and nobody stopped to see if she was okay. You gotta love people!
My husband never got the text. This is a joke that will go down in the books. M's dad was at Sports Academy picking up empty drums and loading it onto a truck. He left his phone in the other car and was in reality doing something he shouldn't have been doing on his lunch. I kept waiting for him to storm in and demand control of the situation so I could finally break down. He wasn't coming.
As M and I walked through the hospital, into elevators, I kept checking my phone. I kept pressing the call button to call my husband but I never followed through. I looked at M and said, "I can't talk to him." M just calmly said, "Just page him mom, he'll come if you page him." I think I knew that but I'd already sent the text of doom....I didn't want to follow it up with a page of doom. I did though but I just typed three words.
"I need you."
We were in the car on our way to Children's Legacy when he finally called. I was driving like a lost, old lady looking for a garage sale. When my husband asked, "What's up?" I knew he had no clue what was coming. My heart was already broken but to actually say the words would do nothing for it. I couldn't get anything out except, "I need....I need....I need." That was all I could say. By the third plea, my husband finally got it. "Just say it and send me a text of where you are."
That was my husband's moment. He had 3 drums in the bed of his truck. He was over 50 miles away from us. His wife was on the phone with him barely holding on to reality. My Mr. Fix-it couldn't fix it. In the 30 minutes it took him to finally get to the hospital, he'd seen the text of doom, replayed in his head the pleading words, "I need....I need....I need," and still wasn't where he should've been.
He often apologizes for not being there when he should've. I've never felt like I was abandoned or alone that day. The amount of people that reached out to us and took control of an otherwise uncontrollable situation was huge. My mother finally got off that bag of fertilizer and picked my K up from school for me. My friend G immediately started getting my prescriptions covered by my insurance. My social network of friends continued to lend me their hands or their ears so I didn't feel so alone. My husband finally arrived at the hospital and allowed me a shoulder to lean on. My daughter M remained brave throughout the day when I needed bravery to prevail.
It was one thing that created a couple dozen moments.
My moral of this story? When I see an old lady sitting on a bag of fertilizer crying, I'm for damn sure gonna stop and ask if she's okay! :) Happy Tuesday everybody! I am quite sure today is gonna fly by seeing as it's already noon and I've only accomplished this today.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
7/25/10
Here's a quandry!
I've totally ran out of things to say! I know! SHOCKER! I think I'm going to just tell a story none of you knew. Excuse me if you don't care but until I get my muse back, this is the best I can do.
The day M was diagnosed with diabetes, I think everybody knew that I had already had a feeling what was coming. Call it instinct or just signs screaming at me for months that I chose to ignore. When I took her to the doctor, the long car ride prompted an apology to her for my procrastination. I had to say that I was sorry. I didn't tell her what I thought it was. I didn't want her to worry if I was wrong. I did however assure her that I was sorry and I wasn't mad at her. Cause you see, I wasn't quite ready for the answer and earlier that morning I felt like she was forcing me to get it.
When we got to the doctor and I gave the doctor her symptoms, he and I both knew what was coming. M left the room to go to the bathroom and I remained in the room. I didn't cry, I just sat there like a statue waiting for my life to crack. When M came back into the room, I realized that I had to pee too.
Now I went into the same bathroom M was just in and it had that little steel door you put your sample in. I heard the steel door open. I stood there in the bathroom, eavesdropping in a way. I heard the sounds on the other side of that square steel door. I held my breath waiting for anything. I heard the paper ripping. I heard the cap being twisted. My hearing was working very well that morning. I heard the nurse on the other side of the steel door say, "Oh no. Get the doctor."
My heart broke that moment. I left the bathroom and went back in the room with the biggest fake smile on my face. I stood there by the door just waiting. I had my hand on M's leg when the nurse came in and tested her blood sugar with a monitor. I didn't look at it. I just stood there with my eyes closed, holding onto her knee. I already knew. Instincts be gone, I'd eavesdropped on the worst news ever. I had a secret that was about to be spilled any second.
This was a moment where I didn't know if I should be the one that told my daughter of her fate or wait for the professional to do it. It's like those moments in your life that you'll never forget. Did I want M to remember this as coming from me or with me just standing beside her when the doctor told her? I didn't want to be a part of this moment. I couldn't be the one. I wasn't.
When the doctor came in and looked at me, I just closed my eyes again when he started to speak. "It's diabetes."
That was my moment. It was basically an hour of moments that I wish never happened. I pick through that day and try to figure out how I could've done those moments better or differently. If there was any moment I wouldn't change, it would be the one where I gave M a hug and said, "I'm sorry."
Happy Monday??? :) Yah, it's a happy Monday. I hope you all have a fantastic day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
The day M was diagnosed with diabetes, I think everybody knew that I had already had a feeling what was coming. Call it instinct or just signs screaming at me for months that I chose to ignore. When I took her to the doctor, the long car ride prompted an apology to her for my procrastination. I had to say that I was sorry. I didn't tell her what I thought it was. I didn't want her to worry if I was wrong. I did however assure her that I was sorry and I wasn't mad at her. Cause you see, I wasn't quite ready for the answer and earlier that morning I felt like she was forcing me to get it.
When we got to the doctor and I gave the doctor her symptoms, he and I both knew what was coming. M left the room to go to the bathroom and I remained in the room. I didn't cry, I just sat there like a statue waiting for my life to crack. When M came back into the room, I realized that I had to pee too.
Now I went into the same bathroom M was just in and it had that little steel door you put your sample in. I heard the steel door open. I stood there in the bathroom, eavesdropping in a way. I heard the sounds on the other side of that square steel door. I held my breath waiting for anything. I heard the paper ripping. I heard the cap being twisted. My hearing was working very well that morning. I heard the nurse on the other side of the steel door say, "Oh no. Get the doctor."
My heart broke that moment. I left the bathroom and went back in the room with the biggest fake smile on my face. I stood there by the door just waiting. I had my hand on M's leg when the nurse came in and tested her blood sugar with a monitor. I didn't look at it. I just stood there with my eyes closed, holding onto her knee. I already knew. Instincts be gone, I'd eavesdropped on the worst news ever. I had a secret that was about to be spilled any second.
This was a moment where I didn't know if I should be the one that told my daughter of her fate or wait for the professional to do it. It's like those moments in your life that you'll never forget. Did I want M to remember this as coming from me or with me just standing beside her when the doctor told her? I didn't want to be a part of this moment. I couldn't be the one. I wasn't.
When the doctor came in and looked at me, I just closed my eyes again when he started to speak. "It's diabetes."
That was my moment. It was basically an hour of moments that I wish never happened. I pick through that day and try to figure out how I could've done those moments better or differently. If there was any moment I wouldn't change, it would be the one where I gave M a hug and said, "I'm sorry."
Happy Monday??? :) Yah, it's a happy Monday. I hope you all have a fantastic day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
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