This is the Tough Stuff

I just saw a beautiful sunrise full of pinks and blues. It seems so poignant. The world just keeps going. Last week was rough, Monday was horrible, and well really, the last number of weeks has been difficult. Mary is not doing well. She is in a lot of pain. She was admitted to the hospital for pain management last week and now she has narcotic pain patches and also taking an oral pain pill and it is not working all the time, especially when she can't get up to take the medicine by herself. She has now started 12 sessions of radiation on the hip which will hopefully decrease the pain. I told George that I just feel an overall sense of doom and he concurred. We are journeying through uncharted territory and the pathway is not of our making. We just have to respond as best we can.

It is just so painstaking, difficult and hard. I am exhausted as is George. I can't imagine what Mary is going through. What I'm going through is trivial compared to her but I can only experience my world with glimpses into hers. This IS the tough stuff. George and I are working to stay on the same page, and not take our stress out on each other, communicate and work together. We hit a major bump of care. Mary is back in her apartment and wants to remain independent but she can't. Each week is something new and her condition and her body are seeming to deteriorate before our eyes. I had to push it until she agreed to have someone come in to her apartment to help her get ready in the morning. The roles are starting to be reversed. She doesn't like it and neither do I but it is necessary. [And on a high note, she was pleased after having the caregiver come this morning to help her in the mornings and thanked George and I for pushing the issue with her.] {And then she changes her mind and doesn't want her to come again...and then I have to push it again...}

I can feel the stress in my body. My shoulders are so tense. My brain is on overload. I haven't exercised or practiced yoga. Just when I need it the most, I can't get there. I'm beginning to come up with alternatives for stress relief. Hot baths, and good music and laughter when I can. I turned up the volume on Adam Lambert in the car on the way home from Little Gym yesterday and just started singing, loudly. The girls joined in. I needed a release. I have seen pain and agony and Monday's moments are seared into my memory. One of the song lines is "I got my boots on" and when we got home, Mallory ran and put her boots on. Precious and priceless. Later at home, I turned Adam on again loud and the girls and I danced. It is a slight relief from the tough stuff. Enough to get me by for a while longer.