Perpetual Ruminations

Monday

Seems like it's kind of hit and miss in here. It's been that kind of a month, no -- months. It's hard to believe we are close to October already, the summer gone and winter quickly approaching. Most of the last few months have been spent running back and forth to Sioux Falls for medical tests and meetings to go over them. It's been trying and a bit frustrating, but not really bad news, most of the tests and scans indicate I'm in great health. Good news.

What makes it frustrating is not finding any answers to what's wrong. We did finally isolate some faults with my gallbladder, which is recently departed. But, will it resolve all the other symptoms? Is there still more wrong?  Questions without answers. I go back and talk to the doctor on the first of October, get checked over, and see where we are at that time. With the surgery, it's been difficult to say what's going on, and will be for a while yet as I heal and kind of get back to normal. So far, the pain has been normal and subsides more each day. Once the pain from surgery dissipates, I will be better able to tell if the other pain is still present or not. Surprisingly, it all feels much the same.

Of course, my digestive system is acting up as a result of surgery and all the probing around inside, so it's difficult to say whether this is related to the surgery or if this is signs of something else being out of whack. I tend to believe it's a result of surgery and the changes required now when digesting foods. I'm being optimistic about it all, the removal of the gallbladder will cease all the odd symptoms that made this so difficult to diagnose. As for the repair to the old hernia patch, that's going to be a bit longer healing. Much of that just needed time to mend on it's own, and now with the lump removed from beneath the patch itself, there shouldn't be any future problems.

Rhonda even put me back on the schedule, being optimistic herself that the follow-up will be positive and I will be feeling more my old self by then. In a strange way, it will feel good to be back to work, and we definitely need the money, even though it will only be a few days a week for the time being. I should still have plenty of time to write, and it should be enough help to keep up with the bills again. Of course, trying to catch back up is going to be difficult and it's likely to take much longer to recover financially than it will to recover physically.

But, I won't dwell on any of that; there's nothing I can do about it anyway. This is one of those cases where their really isn't anything other than faith to focus on. I have no control over how the follow-up goes, if the other symptoms clear up or if there will need to be more tests and treatments, and I cannot do anything about the financial crisis we find ourselves in. I wish I could just write a good story and sell it, take the money and pay off all past debts, all current debts, and have enough left over to fill the pantry and freezer while I work on the next story to sell. That would be perfect, but it's not likely to happen anytime soon.

The worst part is the anxiety that comes with all of this. I know it's not going to help anything, and I do my best to keep in under control. To let worry and anxiety gain control is madness. As Shakespeare wrote in King Lear:

"No, I will weep no more. In such a night
To shut me out? Pour on; I will endure.
In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril!
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that."

Although a different situation the results are the same. I do pretty well to keep worry and anxiety under control, but at night, when the mind relaxes and the subconscious rules, then anxiety sneaks up like a beast in the dark and attacks at the very base of sanity. I find myself waking with a start, uncontrolled thoughts flooding my mind as I fight to the conscious world. Once under my own control again, it's not difficult to put the situation back into perspective, but as sleep comes, the haunting of the attack returns. Sometimes I think it would be better when these anxiety attacks hit during the night, to get up and find something to occupy my mind until I'm once again ready to sleep.

The problem is, if I get up, Rhonda wakes up. Until I return to bed, she just won't sleep well. In the past when sleeplessness forced me up and out of our bed, she would try and sleep on the couch or in a recliner until I return to bed. If we tried to overcome this and she returned to bed, she would no more than doze off then wake and have to come check on me, again. Even when I worked nights, she just could not sleep well until I was beside her and holding in my arms. So, if I get up, she gets up. Try as she might, she won't get anything for good sleep until I'm back in bed. I know I will also suffer the following day from lack of sleep and try my best to regain control, squelch the anxiety, and get myself back to sleep.


Faith and hope, it will work out.