When Your Mind Is In The Waiting Room
I’m going through the motions of my job but inside, I feel like I’m holding my breath. I keep refreshing my phone and checking the clock and the minutes seem to be going backward. There’s a guilt that comes with not being in the waiting room, to be there when he wakes up, but due to all his health issues, I have used up all my sick time, I couldn’t afford to stay out another day. I am not usually one to be anxious. I do trust God’s plan, but sometimes, the thoughts and anxiety, sneak in and steal my focus and peace. Realistically, I know I shouldn’t feel guilty, I know I am doing what I need to do, but I can’t help my racing thoughts: should I have taken the day off? What if something goes wrong? What if he wakes up and needs me like he did with his last surgery? I did tell him I loved him before he left, but I prayed alone rather than with him and praying with him would have calmed his nerves. At the same time, I know the world doesn’t stop because my heart is heavy.
This dual role I live is harder some days than others. Being a care taker to your chronically ill spouse means you often live in two places at once, at work and in worry. It’s hard to focus and function when you’re emotionally torn. People might see me and think I’m handling it well, but they don’t know of the silent prayers I’m whispering as I walk down the hallway at work or the stomach in knots behind the calm face. The way my stomach flops every time a text message comes through.
Being the wife of someone with so many health issues means becoming familiar with hospitals, procedures, doctors, nurses, medical terminology, recovery plans… and waiting. The hardest part of today is not the surgery he is having, it’s the distance. It’s trying to keep moving forward, following my schedule, working with my students, while everything that matters is happening somewhere else.
I realize the hospital staff is busy and I’m not complaining, but I wish I could just get a quick update… the waiting is hard!!!!
So today’s blog is dedicated to anyone else who knows what it’s like to be in two places at once: physically present and emotionally elsewhere. Showing up while you feel like you’re breaking inside… you are not alone. We carry a lot more than most people realize, but we are also held. Even in the chaos or the silence, God is near.
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” Psalm 56:3

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