Whew. Crack the whip. Remember that game? I feel like we've been on the outside of the running line and have been flung off; we are sailing in the air out there somewhere. What planet are we on?
Taylor is in a regular room at Rush Hospital. I actually cried when we left ICU late last night because the nurses were all hugging us goodbye. Oddly enough, it had begun to feel like home. We had heard one another's stories about sisters and vacations and parents in role-reversals. It was probably time to leave. Right? Mr. Tay-man still has oxygen feeding into his trach. His has a feeding tube (which actually just came out accidentally). Darn it all.......another procedure to put that dang thing back in. Oh, how we wish he could swallow and have his food/drink go down the right way---and not go into his lungs. I am surprised that Joe and I are still speaking. Divorced though we already are, we still function like friends----as we should. But this situation taps into every stress button imaginable. Is it human nature to need somebody else to blame? I love that bumper sticker that reads, "I am NOT saying it's your fault; I am just saying I blame you." That pretty much sums up a lot of how I am feeling. Ok, saying it out loud and "owning it" is the first giant step towards changing it. (I could probably use a good weekend retreat along about now----maybe Outward Bound or something that would involve tight-rope walking across a huge gorge---you know...."to build character". )
So, here is how I am handling the stress today: I am going to go to State Street in Chicago, find a Nordstrom's and buy some new Mac lipstick. Is that called lipstick therapy or just denial therapy? Either way, it's about $20.00 worth of good self-care. AND! I have found a hair salon in Lincoln Park from one of the ICU nurses. So, Monday, I am going to have my hair cut. Let me just say that this feels mighty frivolous given the gravity of what is really going on in this room, but I MUST balance this out somehow. You get me, don't you?
That's it from the 12th floor of Rush Hospital. I am typing and Taylor is watching Homeward Bound for the 100th time. I am mother of son who had a trach in his neck so he can breathe.
Where is that lipstick I think I so desperately need???
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Thank you so much for your comments. I know it's scary to put yourself out there. I really appreciate your being on this journey with me. You really are brave..