You would think that after a couple of years of on-going bad luck that I would be used to this crap by now and I'd get even better and better at dealing with stress. Nope. At least, not really. In fact, if anything I feel more tired and more frustrated with dealing with these things. People tell me that things will settle down, but each time I see things begin to "settle" they get worse again. Random, unpreventable things.
Yesterday morning as Master and me were getting ready to go to my foot appointment, we got a call from his mom. Of course, B died that morning and she wanted us to come out as soon as possible to stay for the funeral. This puts us in a serious pickle, because Master's work has been incredibly accommodating to him for the dental surgery he just had as well as for the time he's had to take off on short notice for my foot. Not that it's been a lot of time, but he keeps having to come into work late because unfortunately, most people who get injured never work (cough), and therefore doctor's offices are only open during normal work hours (mega cough). Especially specialists (cough attack). Either way, even if Master were to take off a day to go for the funeral only, we're terrified about the time off. One day here or there.. OK, several days all at once? Not really good. Not to mention, Master had to miss his quarterly review because of his dental surgery. Not the best foot forward. It's being rescheduled, but that's not the point really.
Talking to Master's Mom about this was hard, because she's just inconsolable right now. I thought that B was an awesome guy, and I am so sorry for his wife L, and I am even sorrier for the world - because it is a far less brighter place without B's candle to help light it. When Master told her that he probably wouldn't be able to get out there, and even if we did it definitely would not be for as long as she was asking us to come out for, she cried even harder and said she had to go. Master felt terrible, but he can't take a week and a half or more off of work in order to go to the funeral.. He just can't. We called back and offered to fly out the night before the funeral (which won't be for at least another week because they want to do an autopsy since he's been in the hospital so long), or to come out over this coming weekend, to help and be close to her. She sounded like that was a great idea, and was happy that we could come out for a couple of overnights.
So right now, we're a bit panicky over planning this trip so last minute (not that deaths usually occur with notice given). Either way, the prospect of flying out this weekend is a bit daunting to me. There's a bunch of stuff that needs to be done in order to prepare for that sort of thing (including packing, buying the tickets, planning for the cats, etc), and honestly the idea of flying doesn't thrill me because I absolutely hate dealing with airport security. Will we get it done? Absolutely. But, I'm just not relishing the whole thing at all.
I'm also ridiculously worried about Master. His dental surgery went well, but since the day of surgery he has been in incredible amounts of pain. The medicine the doctor gave him isn't working anymore, and he has always had good luck with Percocet in the past for pain. It's really obnoxious because the doctor refuses to prescribe him anything else for his pain - YET - the doctor also said that Master had the second most complicated surgery he has ever seen! And, somehow he thinks he doesn't need to provide Master with proper pain management for the next couple weeks. Huh. The doctor said that he sees no signs of infection, but he'll going to start Master on another antibiotic tomorrow if his pain isn't improving. Wonderful. If the doctor sees no signs of infection - it probably is honestly the fact that Master has a medium to low pain tolerance at best. I am so fumingly angry. Master isn't a drug-seeker. He is just a guy who had serious surgery done on his mouth and would like to make it through one night getting some sleep. The doctor even said that Master would be in tremendous pain when he woke up, but he didn't want to prescribe anything else. I seriously am not ever going to have anything major done with him. If he needs to pull a tooth or worse, Master and me will seek out another dentist. I think it is completely irresponsible to cut a patient open and refuse them proper pain relief. Master can barely talk, and his face looks like he has the mumps. I can't help but be angry. It's just wrong.
Meanwhile, I really do actually have some good news, and it's always best to try to end on a good note, I think. I went to the Foot and Ankle Specialist and he says that I am ready to start doing some range of motion on my foot, and I can even put it in a shoe to walk. Right now I need to wait until Master and me go to the medical supply store to get me a shoe that is sturdy enough to walk in, but that will be hopefully tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. I am eager to begin doing normal things, like taking a shower (I wasn't allowed to stand up on the foot without a boot, so hopefully after I strengthen my foot up a bit I can do showers again in lieu of baths). I also am eager to be able to really cook and clean better, and to go back to work. I haven't been able to work in five months due to various injuries. I miss it a lot. I have the referral for physical therapy. I know it won't be any fun, but I look forward to it, because I really want to get well as quickly as possible. I am planning on doing some light range of motion tonight since the doctor OK'd me.
So that's where I'm at. I feel a bit like a chicken with its head cut off, running around and trying to take care of everything, but I know it'll be OK.
Just keep swimming.
