I don't remember anything specific from the first half of 2022. I'm exhausted right now, and I think it was just more of the old Try Not To Catch Covid game, which has grown far too long in the tooth. Oh, here's a memory: the rest of the household managed to avoid it in April, when my daughter, who then lived at home (but has since gotten her own place) caught it at work. I think we escaped thanks to open windows despite the temperature, HEPA air filters, N95s, and a good bit of dumb luck.
Over the summer, my anxiety flared like it hasn't flared in a decade. It increased as my older son's October wedding; my daughter's move-out date (and her multiple solo travel plans); and my younger's son long-awaited return to living on campus approached.
It was horrible, but it led me to getting my tush to a doctor, which I also had tried to avoid for the better part of the last decade. Thank goodness I did so, when I did. My anxiety would've wrecked me by now, had I not.
The rehearsal and wedding were wonderful, and no one caught Covid at those events or the shower, bachelorette weekend, and bachelor party, which seems fairly miraculous. The day after their wedding, the newlyweds were rear-ended on the highway by a hit-and-run driver who totaled their car, but did not hurt them. They flew off for their honeymoon the next day, had a wonderful time, and returned safely.
I hosted Thanksgiving this year. My younger son picked up my mother, because she doesn't like to drive alone. She sent him up our concrete driveway stairs with the pies she'd brought, while she took the path up to our house (which sits high on our lot). She then lost her balance and fell. Still, we got her to her feet, and she walked up to our house (with our assistance), and gave her some Motrin and a glass of wine for good measure, because she said she wrenched her back. She didn't want to go to the ER.
My husband and my younger son took her home before dessert. The shock and pain from fall had dampened her appetite. I called later, and didn't like the sound of her voice, but she insisted she was fine and did not need me to come over. My kids told me to listen to her. I lasted 40 minutes, called again, and told her DH and I were coming over. We stayed maybe 'til midnight, but she insisted I go home. I gave her Tylenol, Motrin, and an Ativan. She slept the night, but getting in and out of bed was agony.
The next day, we took her to Urgent Care (where we were low priority and surrounded by oozing Covid and flu patients). When we arrived they told us to expect a 2-hour wait. after two hours, they told us to expect two or three more. We decamped for the local hospital E.R. instead, where we learned mom actually had a compressed fracture of her L4 vertebra. We were sent home with instructions to give her muscle relaxers, Motrin, and Tylenol, and call her doctor on that Monday.
Her doctor couldn't see her until Tuesday. He told us not only did she have a fractured L4, she also had an old fracture of the T11. He recommended kyphoplasty (it's a good thing, people), but that took another 13 days to get. She was hospitalized four days before that, because the pain was unmanageable, but the injury and medications also made a mess of her digestive tract. We finally took her home the day after (12/13/22).
I'm an only child, and one of my older cousins and I are the only people she wants providing her care. It has been tough on both of us. My cousin is divorced, and her kids are in their 40s, so she's stayed with my mother most nights, while I did days, and spotted her on the nights where she had to and wanted to go home.
We're not out of it yet. I just finished a solo 80 hour shift, am in the middle of my 36 hours home, at which point I will return to her place tomorrow morning, until at least Monday (provided my cousin doesn't get Covid again, from her antivax kid).
I'm a little at the end of my rope, because mom isn't a great patient, although she is much better since she stopped taking the opioids (which made her paranoid and anxious). She is ambulatory with a walker, but cannot be left alone yet (and even if the PT said she could, I wouldn't be able to do it). I miss my husband. I miss my kids. (He and they all visit/help when they can, but there's school, and work, and life.) I miss my dog. I miss my bed, but fell asleep on the loveseat last night, after the kids came over to decorate our tree.
We're doing Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at my mother's. All food will be brought in. We're thinking Chinese for the 24th, and are doing a Whole Paycheck meal for the 25th, that we just have to reheat, so that I don't have to cook in her small condo kitchen.
Still, I think she turned a corner the night before last. I got four hours of sleep (a record in all the nights I've stayed over).
Yesterday was the best day she's had in four weeks. In the midst of all this, my new daughter-in-law had a Covid exposure from her folks. My son wasn't with her at the time (she and they were going out of state to a family event and he had to work). My daughter-in-law stayed with her parents, thinking she'd probably already caught Covid. In truth, she might have escaped it, had she returned to the newlywed apartment, but she and my son were trying to do the best they could, so that we could all do Christmas together. I am filled with gratitude that they were so ready to protect us.
Now, we're sweating out whether d-i-l will be negative by Christmas Day. We not only can't risk exposing my mother to Covid — we can't risk exposing me to Covid, because that will mean no one in my house can help her out, and my mother will need to go into a rehab at least temporarily. We don't want to put this still Covid-naïve soon-to-be 86-year-old in a congregate living situation, if we can avoid it.
TL;DR: Anxiety flared, went to best wedding in the history of the world, had sudden empty-nest syndrome, survived a few scares, and am currently Going. Through. It.
Here's to a good 2023 to all of you. I'd just like some boredom. (Okay, and grandchildren, but I know I'm jumping the gun on that.)
I have received cards from: erikaj, JenP, Laura, Kat, Pix, aurelia, sj, DavidS, flea, java cat, and smonster.
The cards are hanging from a cord along my mantel. They brighten the room, and have cheered me up through this season.
Thank you all, very much.
Well, 2022 feels like it was mostly a positioning year. In early 2023 I have high hopes of work advancement and I have plans (make God laugh—make plans) to get back into some astronomy stuff I enjoyed and found a local group to do it with. So, I’ll be social, but mostly in the dark. That sounds pornier than the likely reality, but that’s the story of my life.
This past year I got a new great nephew, who is all kinds of adorable. I got to spend time with my family and enjoy their group conversion from mildly conservative to fairly liberal (by US standards). So many conversations are no longer off the table. The cats continue to bring joy every day. I have friendships that are decades old with people who still want to hang out with me. While I’m not wealthy, I feel profoundly rich in many of the ways that matter.
I’ve gotten cards from dcp, Calli, Jesse, Java cat, Jess, Laura & Brendon, Kat G, askye, sj and more, and I’m treasuring every word and every pixel of affection even as I hate this year. I’m still grimly repeating, “There’s got to be a pony,” but it gets exhausting.
I haven't posted anything in this thread for a couple of years because I've had no energy for it, but I'm ending this year feeling better than when it began. Obviously, there's much to worry about, including my love of all of you and worries about your health and my knee and money and the state of the world, but I don't want to dwell on that, and since I know we also need to hear when there's a glimmer of light, I'll share a little of mine.
The big thing for me is my dad. This time last year, he was sinking deeper and deeper into dementia, and I was trying to figure out how I was going to keep him safe when he was hellbent against moving into any kind of assisted living. Then, like a miracle, his neurologist prescribed two medications — first one, and then the second a couple of months later — and my father emerged from the mists. He has his sense of humor back, and he can do simple things, like manage his pills correctly and keep track time and place. He no longer calls me from Florida wondering where I am, and he remembers things like birthdays. The damage from years of micro-strokes did irreversible damage, and I will always have to take care of his finances and go out to check in on him regularly, but I'm no longer in a state of constant panic/despair worrying about him. The meds are working in a way his doctor says only happens in about 20% of patients, and I am deeply, wholly grateful.
My mom continues to be in good health, overall, and I loved having her out for Thanksgiving. Poor thing just got over having Covid twice (she rebounded less than a week after she tested negative the first time), but she's in good spirits and very happy to be testing negative again. I'll see her in a few months when we meet in Tucson to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousin. My aunt has been really sick, and I haven't seen her since 2019. I'm really looking forward to that.
Work is going well for me. I have carved out a safe niche and found my place at my school, and my journalism program is thriving. I still lose sleep over yearbook deadlines and teenage shenanigans, but I am happy there. Oh, and apparently my work teaching healthy competition and collaboration in high school is being featured in a book coming out this year? A journalist came to my school to research it last year and spent some time with my students and me, and now I'm an entire chapter in this upcoming book. I'm bemused by that whole situation, though gratified. Imposter syndrome kicking in a bit, but I'm trying to let it be what it is.
For the first year since 2019, ND's business has been healthy. We have a long road to recover from all the debt he took on to keep his employees through the dark Covid days, but the company is doing well, with new clients and a great staff. I'm so proud of him for everything he's done to fight for his employees and his business, which we honestly didn't know would still be around a couple years ago.
I've also made time for some adventure in the past year, from running away to Tulum with erin_obscure to snorkel and swim in cenotes and dive with turtles to taking quick trips with ND, including the one we are returning from now. We went back to Maui for the first time since we got married there in 2010 (guys, our 13th wedding anniversary is next week ... OMGWTFPOLARBEAR). Our friend Paul has a condo in Maui, and he gave it to us to use for three nights for just the cleaning fee, and ND was able to use Hertz points for the car. We used our Alaska companion fare for the plane tickets, so a pretty economical trip! And it was wonderful to spend a couple of days there together.
We also added a huge galomph of a puppy to the pack. Book is almost 9 months old and full of mischief, but he's a big sweetie and will be a great dog. All the other beasties are hanging in there well and providing lots of snuggles.
I continue to be so grateful for my community of friends, both IRL and online, and I wish you all good news and health in 2023. And when things are hard, as they are right now for some of you, please know you are never alone. Sending love and light to you.
Happy New Year!
I've made it to 2023. I admit to some surprise.
The good news is, little has changed. My cancer is well controlled, as are blood pressure, cholesterol, and diabetes.
The bad news is, little has changed. The medications I take to keep the cancer subdued have significant side effects. Fatigue is high, strength is low, stamina is low. Metabolism is low. Energy is low. Attention span is short. I have trouble remembering things.
Lymphedema in my feet and ankles comes and goes.
Neuropathy in my toes, feet, and fingers comes and goes.
Rage comes and goes.
Tears come and go.
Depression comes and goes.
The kilograms come and don't go.
I might make it to 2024. Or I might not. I dunno.
Make the most of each and every day.
