Sleepy Stitches~

Since it’s officially been years since I can remember Dan being awake and well…I’m trying to accept the role of long term care giver.  It has depressed me, I think my children are being jipped.  Their memories of him will be him occupying space, sleeping.  Shame.  I’m not a good care giver…I’m pissed off.  He’s not even 40 yet and I know if he were typing, he would be typing how hard he tries to hide his pain and sleepiness.  Bull Shit.  I go through the motions.  Say the right things like, "Please eat it while it’s hot."  "Get  your rest,  you’re sick."  He’ll ask questions like why do you seem mad at me.  I cannot answer, I think it’s a very stupid question and I do not answer very stupid questions…especially when it would just cause a fight and make me appear heartless for being pissed at a sickly tired man, for being sick and tired.  I’m wide awake and fine.

No cool story for my stitches!  I just got sick of (or hearing about) these two ugly bumps.  One on my left leg, one on the back of my neck.  I started going to the doctor a few months ago because Dan doesn’t have insurance.  He needed a prescription for happy pills…so I went in there acting sick and tired.  I got Dan his happy pills, and resented him for it.  Decided to talk to the doctor about my insomnia so I could get something for that, and get these two ugly bumps removed.   (After two prescriptions…still can’t resolve my sleeping issues.  It’s funny, but my mind says the pills have to be blue to work after taking over the counter blue sleeping pills for soo long) 

He was the doctor I used to see as a child.  His wife always has worked with him, a nurse.  Over twenty years later they are still together and I truly embarrassed myself to the wife back then.  Linda (my mother) and I had our first and only fist fight…and back then, I wanted the world to know of my pain and misery.  No computers back then…only an answering machine.  I recorded the most miserable greeting for people to leave their message. It was ridiculous, truly.  You couldn’t even understand what I was saying, just sobs.  This poor nurse left me a message, and I was horrified.  I was forced to have paps back then, and this poor woman’s arms were spaghetti from prying my knees apart.  I saw her all these years later, and my face turned beat red and I hurried into the room to wait for my stitches to be taken out.  A nurse came in and tugged and tugged, but couldn’t get that last one.  She said she would have to get the head nurse…you got it, the doctor’s wife.  I teared up before she even closed the door behind her.  She thought I was nervous and weak…and her touch was so gentle..and motherly…I didn’t even feel her retrieve the last stitch.  She placed her hand on my knee so kindly and asked me if I was okay..had she hurt me? 

The tears fell..and I choked out, "I’m sorry I was so weird!"

The look on her face…brings tears to me now.  She looked heart sick while she said oh that’s okay sweet heart…how is your mother?

I just had a birthday…and damn myself for giving any portion of that birthday wondering if Linda had thought of me that day.  I give Linda a part of each birthday, holiday, and mothers day…and damn me for it.  I told the nurse I didn’t know…last I heard she moved to Florida…and that she left me twenty years ago…and I promise I stopped being so weird after she left.  I had my head on my knee…knowing I was being so weird once again…but when I looked up..she was crying pals.

She began to speak of her own troubled relationship with her own mother..and that made my heart swell.  Not with love, but close to it.  She gave me the wrong advice, told me to send Linda a mother’s day card each year with pictures of my family because after she was gone, my heart would be clear knowing I had done all I could to try…but my heart already is clear.  I listened and cried with her, at the end we had a hug that lasted too long, and removing my stitches was free of charge.