I woke up this morning at 5:00 a.m. trying to find a way to get up enough courage to call my doctor and tell him these staples have to come out TODAY. I would think of all the reasons why and all the lies I would tell him until I worked myself up into such a tizzy it was sad. When Rich came home from exercising and was getting in the shower I asked him if he would please call my doctor and beg them to help me get these staples out. All I heard from him was "Oh Dewsie." I knew that meant he wasn't going to do it. I then went on to say something like, "I know you like to watch me suffer" and went on my way. Why should he care, he left today for Salt Lake. He always goes up for his missionary reunion and this year his Mother isn't doing that well so that was his excuse. So again I am left behind to enjoy the weekend by myself dragging a walker and complaining about how bad my butt hurts.
As I look back on my life I sometimes dwell on all the times I've been left behind while others have traveled, worked, played and I stayed home, mostly by choice, to take care of kids and animals. One of my children asked me the other day, "Mom, what happened that you decided you didn't want to go and do anything anymore?" I have reflected on that question many times as I have remembered all the experiences that lead up to my anxiety disorder. At one time I felt like I had a wonderful life and I was just "fat, dumb and happy." My world fell apart when I suffered a miscarriage, had radiation on my thyroid and had three surgeries in one month. It was more than I could take and my ability to cope with everyday life came to a screeching halt. There was a time I couldn't even go outside and get the mail out of our mailbox.
I have often wondered why an educated, athletic, dedicated person would have to go through what was asked of me. Rich and I were talking about this the other day. Why does it seem like so many people are going through such hard times? I don't have any answers, I hope that someday I will understand the purpose of suffering. I know it can always get worse so I'm trying not to complain too much. I guess this is where keeping a "gratitude journal" would come in handy. I know I have so many blessings, I just hope that when I'm feeling better I will be able to go on a trip somewhere. I may even decide that I'm going to move away somewhere it isn't hotter than *&^% everyday. Does anyone want to move away somewhere with me?
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