Mornings around here have been rocky. No matter how much coffee I drink or what kind of mood I'm in when I arrive at Jimmy's bedside, he has been consistently exhausted in the a.m.
It's hard to get hit with that morning after morning. But there it is. There hasn't been a stretch this rough in awhile.
We had appointments everyday this past week except for Friday. All of them... exhausting in their own little ways.
Monday at the wound doctor: We learned Jimmy's head wound isn't looking good and he'll need surgery on it soon. The plan is to get through the holidays first. Reminder: Jimmy also suffered some damage to his scalp/skull a long with his SCI. The doctor thinks the wound is sitting on unhealthy tissue. We have some options on what we can do. Some are cosmetically ideal, some aren't. Depends on what they find when they go in and start to clean it up. Because his doctor classifies it currently as an infection, no doubt his body is going through a lot with all that. Jimmy also had some skin breakdown on his bum. That is healing nicely and no (more) bed rest is needed. The angst associated with that has slowly subsided.
Tuesday at the podiatrist: Jimmy had an ingrown toenail. This is an issue because Jimmy can't tell us if he is in pain. I hear these things can be painful. If he gets to be in excruciating pain without knowing it, bad things can happen. Like call an ambulance bad. He didn't want to, but we had the doctor do the in-office procedure to deal with that.
Wednesday we had some counseling: this was good. We got some piece of mind on some recent decisions we have made about baby-making. Oh, it's still happening.
Thursday at the urologist: This appointment sucked butt because of how early it was. Nothing scary came out of this appointment, just took forever and had to deal with a whiny nurse and some attitudy girl at the coffee bar. Why do those pointless things seem to matter so much more when you're drained? Bluh.
It's so crazy how Jimmy's condition can change like the soup of the day. He did so good on our Thanksgiving trip. Then we get home and it's all downhill. I guess I'd rather it happen that way. However, I had a hit-the-wall realization that there is always going to be something. There is always going to be something with this injury.
I mean... there's always going to be something in life, but there's always going to be something with this injury and you can bet we haven't seen everything there is to see with this thing. Sometimes I get scared of what's next.
Here's what I learned this week: there are going to be super-duper stretches where I feel like I we are finally out of the woods and I want to eat cupcakes and skip everywhere. Then something starts to creep. An unpleasant presence of some sort creeps and creeps and creeps. And I will once again question whether I have the strength to do it.
And I will have to try and remember how I made it through this hard week virtually unscathed.
I have gone back to the gym after a month of not working out because of IVF stuff and a stomach bug. After spending some time at the gym over the past five days, I feel better about life. I'm not as fragile. I mean, the hills aren't alive with the sound of music, but I'm getting there...
I take comfort in knowing we're probably going to be okay.
I took time this past week to lean on those who checked in on me: a fellow spinal cord injury wife who is a wealth of knowledge and gave me loads of wonderful advice and tips.
She messaged: what's wrong?
I responded: there's always going to be something, isn't there?
I love her honestly and her willingness to give it to me straight. Ain't no one got time for sugar-coating.
Another friend said something like: when the hits keep coming, you employ your support system.
Great advice that I probably already knew and just needed reminded of. I have since rounded some gals and asked them to join me for a glorious night out at a glorious French restaurant. I am very excited for this. Very very.
There will be one really good cocktail. Cheese. Bread. Butter. Cream. Meat. Chocolate. And then... regret. But it will be worth it.
Unless I puke.