Well, I survived last week. Not only survived but I thrived, I'm happy to report.
I was busy every single day of the week except for Thursday. Work was a little stressful but I had fun activities every night to look forward to so I didn't dwell on anything I can't change.
My friends went all out to throw me a Hello Kitty birthday dinner. It was awesome and perfect especially since the majority of my guest list is under 12.
On my actual birthday on Wednesday the kids took me mini-golfing. Taz and I used to play whenever we got a chance back in Virginia but I hadn't played in...oh, maybe 20 years so I was a little rusty and I was playing with only 1 arm...at least those were all the excuses I used until I realized I wasn't all that bad. I didn't win but I wasn't really trying. Next time I'm going to scrape the floor with all of them. Win or not, it was fun, pure fun. On a day I had seriously considered just ignoring, a day that was full of pain just a year ago, I chose to look past all that I've lost and focus on what I've gained.
I can't promise it'll work all the time and I can't promise there won't be days I'll want to bury my head in the blankets or smother myself with a pillow but at least for this past week, I'm ok. Not that I didn't cry every single day of last week - I did. The pain was just as raw and searing as if it had all just happened. But after a big cry, I'd dry my eyes and go on to the next fun activity.
And now the second year begins. When my dad died, almost 3 decades ago, I found the second year was even harder than the first. I think that's because I unconsciously set a goal of getting through the first year and when I did, there was a fleeting moment of feeling accomplished and then I realized there had been no point. I got to the end of the first year and what was my prize? Years and years of the same. Let me tell you, that was depressing and it set the tone for the second year.
So I've been very careful not to fall into that trap. The first year wasn't a goal, I've never forgotten that nothing changes after the first year except that now I can never think about what he and I were doing this time *last* year. The only prize I got for surviving the first year was a whole new year, decade, life to survive. Yippee.
But yes - YIPPEE! I have a whole new year to live my life, to make Taz proud, to make ME proud. I am not going to waste that feeling sorry for myself or even feeling sorry for Taz that he's not getting those chances. Of course I'm sorry that he isn't but I choose to believe he's having a way better time up there in Heaven than he ever did down here.
I feel strangely optimistic about 2020.
This time last year I said goodbye. Most people think this is the hardest day of the year for me but that really came last Friday, the anniversary of the day we had our last conversation and he went off to work and was lost to me forever. But I got through that day and I'll get through all the others. I lost a lot last year but I've gained a lot too. I have a local support system that I didn't have before. I have the joy of being in the lives of 8 children ( 4 local and 4 in West Virginia ) and watching them grow and loving them so much. I have such a great family, both my chosen family and my birth family who are coming to visit me this weekend. I know who my friends are and who I can count on...and I know how to say goodbye to the ones that haven't been there. I don't know why but I have great optimism about 2020.
In my family we've always celebrated Birthday Month because most of us were born in November. My sister started the idea and she was the one most invested in it. I used to like to talk about birthday month but I never expected (and never got) a month long celebration.
Of course last year my birthday was completely forgotten as Taz was in the hospital and, actually, my birthday was the day I had to make some hard, horrific decisions.
So you can imagine that I've not been much in the mood for celebrating my birthday this year, it's now (and forever) tied to things I don't want to remember...even though I can't help it.
But friends were urging me to celebrate and after much waffling back and forth I decided that if I was going to celebrate a little, I was going to celebrate a LOT.
And so, this is BIRTHDAY WEEK!
It started small - a friend asked if I wanted to do anything on my actual birthday and I originally said no. Then another friend asked if I wanted to come over for dinner the night before. I was in a better frame of mind at that time so I said yes. Then the first friend was rather confused why I would do something with someone else and not her so I ended up having something to do on 2 nights this week.
I have family coming into town for the weekend so suddenly I had plans on Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday so it seemed silly not to extend the celebration to the whole week.
Yesterday (Sunday) was the kick off. I was by myself all weekend but I didn't think it was healthy to sit around and think too much (I actually took myself to a movie Friday night since that had been such a hard day and I knew I needed to get out of the house after work) so I decided to spend Sunday visiting one of my favorite Florida towns.
First stop was a favorite French cafe. They just installed lots of outdoor seating, very Parisian, but it was only in the '50s on Sunday which is VERY cold for Florida, so I definitely felt better in the cozy interior. They had it all decorated for Christmas and were playing French Christmas songs interspersed with Dean Martin and Michael Buble. Normally I do not like too much Christmas before Thanksgiving but yesterday it felt just right.
Everything looked amazing, I was very tempted by a lemon tart.
But then my eyes saw the croissants and pies. Oh, so many choices. It was hard to stick to one thing.
Just then the front door opened letting in a huge gust of chilly wind and I knew what I had to order - onion soup!
And continuing on that theme I topped it off with a hot chocolate. Look at that whipped cream! It was heavenly.
I seriously love that cafe. Taz and I watched it being built a couple of summers ago and visited many times. It was either our first stop when hitting town or a great place to have dessert after having dinner at the Singaporean restaurant in town...which is gone now.
The food is awesome, the decor is beyond charming, the little library in the back is the perfect place to spend an afternoon but the thing I love the most is the bathroom.
Yep, you heard me right - I love their ladies room. Which is an unusual thing to love, right? But they have a mirror in the bathroom that is pure magic. I never look tired or old in that mirror, no wrinkles or bags under my eyes. I always make a trip to the ladies room there, even if I don't really have to go!
After filling up, I went next door to my favorite shop in the world. It's one of those vintage emporiums that rents out space to many vendors.
You never know what you're going to find there. This time I found a giant seahorse. Actually, it was a pair of giant seahorses. Aren't they adorable? I'm sure I need them but I'm not exactly sure where I would put them so I let them stay in the store this time.
I did, however, decide that a necklace needed to come home with me. I can't afford anything, I shouldn't have spent the money (even though it wasn't that much) but gosh darn it, it's my birthday and nobody else is around to buy it for me.
I know, it looks like a rosary and I'm not even Catholic, but I used to have a collection of ornate and/or rustic crosses (I still have it but it's in storage in California and I'll probably never see it again) so maybe this is the start of a new collection. It makes a cool necklace.
After all that fun I was ready to go back home and hug Charlie...and take a nap. I'm still pretty worn out at the end of the each day. I look forward to the day when this arm thing and all the pain is a distant memory and I feel 100%.
But, not a bad start to BIRTHDAY WEEK!
One year ago today Taz woke up, took a shower and flung his towel over the shower wall where it still hangs today. He left for work about 8. I followed him to the door, told him to have a good day and drive carefully. He said the same back to me and we said goodbye. It was the last conversation we would ever have. 3 hours later, while sitting at my desk at work, I would get the phone call that would change my life forever, letting me know he'd collapsed at work and had been taken to the hospital in a coma.
A year later and my grief is still as raw as it was then. There are tears every day and I feel lost and alone most of the time.
Back then I wondered what my life would be like a year later. Outwardly it still looks much the same - same job, still (barely) hanging on to the same house but that isn't sustainable forever and very soon there will have to be big changes.
Needless to say, I wish nothing had to change and that Taz had come home last November 15th and we'd had the fun birthday weekend we had planned.
Of course I know I have to move my life forward and I've tried, although all attempts at making new friends have failed spectacularly. Lucky for me I have some amazing old friends and I have hopes and dreams for the future. But for today, the past is all I can see.
Yesterday marked one month since I broke my arm.
Progress is being made. I'm typing this with 2 hands and I don't even have to put the keyboard in my lap. I can carry small items with my left hand although I'm not supposed to carry any real weight yet. I can get dressed without tears, although still not without some slight pain.
I have a couple more physical therapy sessions left where we're focusing on range of motion, I still can't lift my arm very high nor stretch it across. After we get all the motion back (please God let me get all the motion back!) then we're supposed to work on strengthening it in December. By the end of the year my insurance runs out as far as therapy sessions so hopefully all is back to normal by then.
I wish I could say this has been a growing experience or that I can see the reason this all happened but I can't. I wish I could find it funny. I do like to tell the story of how it happened and laugh at myself for being clumsy but I don't find any humor in the pain and isolation that followed. I certainly don't find humor in the medical debt, that has the potential to ruin my life.
Maybe with time and distance, I'll be in a better place about all of it.
For now, I'm just focusing on doing my exercises, going to therapy and trying to get things back to some sort of normal. There is still constant pain as my muscles get stretched out. I am still exhausted just going about my daily routine. I still have to nap when I get home from work but at least I am now able to work a full week without having to take time off to recuperate. That's what weekends are for.
Weekends are also for little treats. I haven't been eating very well since I got out of the hospital - no real food in the house and no money for groceries, but I decided to give myself a little break last Saturday and visited Steak N Shake. It's a local chain restaurant that Taz and I both loved because it's cheap and filling. Taz was never one for spending money on himself when things were tight (although he LOVED restaurants - both fancy or casual - when we had money) but he would always spring for Steak N Shake and sometimes I could even talk him into getting himself a milkshake. As for me, I always get a Nutella milkshake especially now because Taz is the one that introduced me to Nutella.
That meal up there was delicious and it was lovely to finally feel full. I really miss eating out, it was a big part of our weekend routine.
And the other good news is that we're FINALLY getting cooler weather so I can stop using the air conditioner (and reduce that bill) and it's BOOT WEATHER! I love boots and I live for the time when it's cool enough in Florida to wear them. It seems like such a silly thing and I never really thought about it in California (where it was boot weather year 'round) but it's a big milestone every year when we have that first chilly-ish day and it's safe to wear boots without sweating in them. Not only am I breaking out the boots but I'm also throwing caution to the wind and wearing sweaters and long sleeves! Don't get me wrong, I love summer but by November, I'm ready for a change.
It's the little things.
Look, I'm sling-free! Well, at least around the house and the office. I still wear it when I'm in a public place so that people steer clear and don't bump into me.
I went to the doctor last Thursday for a follow-up appointment. I worried that he would say it wasn't healing correctly and that I'd need surgery after all but, luckily, that's not what happened. He said I was healing well and that I could now begin to move it a little although I still can't use it like normal.
I've started going to occupational therapy so that I can increase my range of motion. That's a good thing. What's a bad thing is that therapy HURTS. I know I need to go through the pain to get over the pain but damn, it's hard.
Not as hard as the first week or two after the break, I have to keep reminding myself of that. Now it's my muscles that hurt. Apparently they thought that the 2 1/2 week vacation they had from moving was pretty sweet and they are 100% not interested in resuming their jobs and they let me know with each movement I make.
I have a series of exercises that I have to do 3 times a day. Most of them are fun and I enjoy doing them but there's 1 exercise that I dread because it hurts so much but I make myself do it every time and I can see a teeny, tiny, miniscule bit of improvement...and that's what motivates me to keep doing it.
Not much else to tell. My life has been turned upside down and consumed by this injury so I haven't been doing much more than going to work then coming home and sleeping on the couch. I've been out a couple of times but nothing exciting enough to talk about. I don't feel very social these days so I've only gone out because I had to or I wanted to see my kids. I appreciate my friends including me on outings but they all last longer than I would like, they take so much out of me physically.
It hasn't escaped my notice that it's November which means it's almost been a year since I lost Taz. That knowledge combined with my injury has dealt my emotional recovery a blow. I've been depressed, I've thought how nice it would be to not wake up, I've cried just like I cried a year ago. I honestly don't know how to get through all this except to just keep my head down and keep trudging. I'm so tired of trudging through life.
Everyone says that things will get better. I honestly don't see how they ever will but I cling to that tiny shred of hope. I am deeply unhappy and feel so alone and I don't want that to be my reality forever. There's even a part of me that hoped that this broken arm journey was going to lead to me meeting someone but that hasn't happened. Sigh. So far, the only thing I've learned from all this is that, despite the fact that I know there are people out there that truly care about me, I'm really completely on my own. There was no one around when I could barely function from the emotional pain last year, there was no one around when I could barely stand up from the couch (or the bed or the toilet) from the physical pain this year. There was no one around when I couldn't even dress myself or fix food or shop for food. I couldn't even have groceries delivered because I spent the grocery money on a new bra so that I could actually stop wearing my old one 24/7. I shouldn't have been driving and probably shouldn't have been at work that first week but I had no choice about either. No one even asked if I needed help because they had their own lives to deal with. And I'm not bitter (ok, just a little) I'm just being realistic. If there was nobody there during a time when it was fucking obvious I needed help, there will be no one around when it's all internal and I have to rely on myself alone. Full disclosure - one friend offered me a gift that was priceless - help with a large project I have to finish by January - and I am forever grateful to her. She lives 3000 miles away and knew she couldn't help in person but she came up with some ideas of how to help and let me pick one. I can't even begin to say thank you enough, it's going to make a huge difference.
Luckily I'm a strong woman and that's what most people have been counting on all along. Everyone wants to hear that I'm doing better and better each day and now that the year anniversary is here, that's what they're going to expect. I'm sure it won't be too long before I have people gently telling me that it's time to move on.
If only I could.
Don't worry, these moods never last long, I'll go back to being funny and adorable eventually, it's my default setting.
