Torn Between two Places

                

It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions these past 5 days. Every hour has seemed to carry a different weight, hope, worry, exhaustion and anticipation. I kept thinking that maybe today would be the day that Mike would be discharged, and I’d be able to leave for Florida with a lighter heart. But yesterday brought another turn I didn’t see coming. A new area of cellulitis was discovered on the back of his left leg, climbing up his calf. The doctor’s felt it necessary for him to remain hospitalized for additional IV antibiotics. Just like that, the uncertainty continued.

By the grace of God, I was able to arrange for our nephew/Godson to stay at the house and care for Oscar & Tortellini. That alone brought a sense of relief I desperately needed. One less thing to worry about, one small piece of the puzzle falling into place.

Now here I am sitting in the airport, waiting to board my flight. This moment feels heavier than I thought it would. I feel torn in a way that is hard to fully explain. I know deep down that I need this time away. I need to see my daughter, son in law and grandchildren. I need a change of scenery, a break from work, hospitals and worry. I know I deserve that. But knowing something and feeling it are two different things. Because along side that need is the guilt. The voice in my head that whispers “should you really be leaving now? The part of me that wants to stay, to be close, to not miss anything. To be there incase something changes.

Loving someone who is chronically ill means living in that tension. It means constantly balancing devotion with survival, care for them with care for yourself. Sometimes no matter what choice you make it feels like part of you is in the wrong place. Maybe this trip isn’t about escaping responsibility, but about restoring strength. Maybe stepping away for a few days will allow me to come back more present, more grounded, and better able to continue walking this road along side Mike. Still, it doesn’t make it easy.

I’m choosing to trust God in this space between guilt and grace. Trusting that he is with Mike in that hospital room as much as he is here with me in this airport terminal. Trusting that he understands the weight of this decision, even when I question it myself.

“Cast your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” ~1 Peter 5:7

So I’m taking a deep breath, and saying a prayer as I prepare to board this plane, carrying both the love that keeps me anchored, and the faith that allows me to let go, even if it’s just for a little while.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Another Day, Another Procedure and a Whole Bunch of Feelings

Image
  Another day spent at Portsmouth Hospital with Mike. Today he had a Fistulagram also known as a Fistulography. It’s an imaging test where they insert a needle and dye and do some imaging to make sure the fistula in his arm is working properly before they can remove the Central Venous Catheter (CVC) which he has had since February. Since Mike has stage 5 kidney disease, this Fistula is a life line for dialysis. He did well during the procedure, even though there was a lot of pressure and discomfort. The test showed that he had scar tissue built up from a previous antibiotic picc line, so they had to open it up with a balloon. He was in the operating room for about an hour and in recovery for another hour. Starting Tuesday, the nurse’s at the dialysis center will try using the arm Fistula for the next 3 sessions. Once it is proven to be working properly, an appointment will be scheduled to get the CVC removed from his chest. He can’t wait to get rid of that thing.  Another upda...
Read more

Loving Him Through The Hard Decisions

Image
                         Life lately has been like reading a medical report I never asked to understand, and yet here we are, learning every word because it’s our life. Mike met with the infectious disease doctor on Friday, again to talk about his back, his Ankylosing Spondylitis and what if anything can be done. The official report describes him as a 62 year old man with “Complex medical comorbidities”, clinical words for a life that has been anything but simple. Diabetes with nerve damage, end-stage kidney disease requiring dialysis 3 times a week for the last year, and longstanding Ankylosing Spondylitis that has slowly and painfully taken its toll on his spine. For years Mike was on strong medications, biological immunosuppressants to try to manage the A.S. but those came with a cost. He has developed repeated infections- skin, bone, joint. Mostly staph infections that just keep coming back. It got so ...
Read more

P is for Patiently Waiting (and Plans That Changed Overnight)

Image
                       P is for Patiently Waiting (and Plans That Changed Overnight) I was supposed to be boarding a plane to Florida today. There should have been sunshine. Grandbaby giggles. Frosting on little fingers. A suitcase with sandals instead of snow boots. Instead, I’m sitting in a hospital room. Mike’s AV fistula collapsed from a blood clot. A thrombectomy was performed this morning. He's in dialysis now. The steady beep of machines instead of the sound of “Happy Birthday.” This is not the plan I had circled on the calendar. But here’s the thing about patience, it rarely shows up when you’re lounging in Florida. It shows up in waiting rooms. In the space between “we thought” and “we trust.” Mike's body has been fighting battles most people will never see — Ankylosing Spondylitis, chronic kidney disease, diabetes, a broken back, and today was another reminder that our life is often measured not in vacations, ...
Read more