I have been having a rough time over the past week. The heat has been making my POTS flare up. Still had to work a crazy schedule even though I was feeling like crap and was super tired. Work has been taking all my spoons. On my days off I’ve been doing the marathon sleep thing in hopes of generating enough spoons for the next round of work shifts. I’m not sure if the nausea or the fatigue has been the bigger challenge this week. Been a struggle to get anything down and then keeping it down has been a gamble. Fatigue is a challenge because there isn’t any way to get any more energy. There just isn’t any go and that’s all there is to that. So, yeah. It’s been a rough week.
My dad is in the hospital and has been for over a week now. He isn’t doing that great. He’s looking at getting two surgeries before everything is said and done. He is a surgical risk with a 20% chance of the surgery killing him even if it goes well. Not to mention he has high risk for having complications after the surgery. My mother has been a hot mess. That’s understandable. Her brother just died suddenly last month from heart problems and now she is facing the very real possibility of her husband dying. I’m trying to be supportive by giving her the medical information that she needs and a safe place to have her emotions. But I also feel a little like an imposter.
My relationship with my father has always been complicated. I love him, but I also kind of don’t. He was abusive to us kids while we were growing up. While I believe that he and mom did the best that they could with what they were given, it doesn’t erase all the baggage. Because, sure, he never meant to be that dad, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was. So, yeah. It’s complicated. Whenever my dad has complex medical stuff going on, I end up feeling this weird mix of stuff that’s hard to process. And I really haven’t had the spoons for it this week. I feel a bit like I’m a bad person because I haven’t been feeling sad or scared that my dad might die. I’ve been feeling resigned. He was an alcoholic for years and smoked. He’s a diabetic that doesn’t control his blood sugars. He’s morbidly obese and has a history of heart attacks. The medical truth is that it is amazing that he has made it into his seventies with the way that he has been treating his body.
This is also the week that our daughter returned to college. I miss having her around already and it’s only been a few days. Since she has been an adult, our relationship has changed into more of a friendship and I couldn’t be happier about that. When she is home, we spend a lot of time doing things together. It has been great to have her here. The late night chats about everything and nothing. Video game marathons while snuggled on the couch with our stuffed animals. Yeah, that’s amazing stuff and I miss it when she goes back to college. Sure, we do stuff together over zoom when she is away, but it just isn’t as good as having her here.
I myself have been still struggling with all the things surrounding graduate school. The more research I do on it, the more stressed out I feel about it. There are several options that I have to be able to do the kind of work that I want. I’m not sure yet if I will be going for my licensed clinical social worker or if I will go for the psychiatric mental health nurse practitioner. There are pros and cons to going in either direction. It’s nothing that I can feasibly start until the beginning of next year. That’s when I can apply for federal aid. I am going to need that in order to pay for said education, so it will be a few more months before that ball gets rolling. But that time is getting closer and I’m feeling the stress of having to make the decision.
This week has been a struggle to keep my physical symptoms in check while trying to manage all the emotional crap that has been hitting me with my dad being sick. And just being busy with getting our daughter back to college and working. I’ve had a stretch of a few days off, but I really don’t feel like I’ve had any kind of break. I’m still feeling really tired. And seriously, I need more spoons.
Zebra Pig 