Daily Post 78: Continuing to Recover

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I’m glad I didn’t write yesterday. It would have been a post about hopelessness and grief and how everything in life is meaningless… Not really warm fuzzy feelings…

I didn’t sleep at all Sunday night. And by “at all” I mean I literally did not sleep at all and had to go to work sick and exhausted and even though I knew it was going to be a better day then what I would have worked in Orlando I had to fight back tears as I took my shower, thinking about the endless day I had ahead of me.

I’ve learned that my sadness and grief will ALWAYS have a better chance of gaining a foothold when I’m tired. My body ached. My head hurt. I was nauseous from lack of sleep rather than the sickness, but still, the sensations were there, keeping me from wanting to eat which didn’t help anything at all. I didn’t have coffee. I didn’t have cigarettes… I really didn’t do myself any favors in making yesterday any easier.

I made it through my shift. It actually went smoothly all things considered. I completed the water room on my own again. I took care of the meters. I tested the machines for residual disinfectant. I did everything I was supposed to do and it went well.

The weather yesterday sucked so several of our patients were “late-ish”. They all pretty much showed up at the same time, too, which made things feel rushed. No one likes sitting around waiting, and knowing that you have three other people dinking around until your done makes you feel pressured even though you’re really not. At least it does for me. Maybe that’s something I need to work on…

Anywho, first shift got on relatively on time even though it was just me and the RN yesterday. Our first day together, on our own, with no additional help. Go us.

Once everyone was on the machines I was able to start tackling the chores for the clinic. Preparing the packs for the next day, including labs, which actually weren’t done for our first shift because whoever worked Saturday didn’t do it like they should have. That was another hitch to the start of the morning, but we recovered from it and it didn’t hinder the rest of the day since I was able to do the packs for second shift before it started.

Yesterday was the first day were I really took over making sure labs were spun properly and put away. It’s not hard. I didn’t think it would be, but it is an added responsibility to be aware of and I’m glad that despite being as tired as I was that I did it on my own. It adds another level of ownership to my work and my place at the clinic.

During my first break, my FA came into the breakroom to talk to me. Since I wasn’t at work Saturday a lot of my skills list stuff didn’t get checked off like it needed to. She wanted to know if I would be ok with coming into work for a little bit today, my day off, to get that completed.

It’s not like I could have said “no”. I need this stuff signed off so everything is legal and squared away. And, realistically, I did it to myself by calling out on Saturday. I said yes, I could come in and explained that if I seemed defeated or sad that it was because I was super tired from not being able to sleep the night before. I explained how I spent most of my weekend coughing and sick and sleeping when I was able to and how that most likely threw off my sleep schedule. I said I honestly didn’t mind coming in on my day off. It was just a rough day and once I got some sleep I would be fine.

My FA was understanding and said she appreciated my willingness to come in. She left me alone after that and I tried not to let the thought of having an additional obligation on my plate eat away at my non-existent motivation to keep going through the day.

Second shift had its own issue with a patient showing up late, so I had to stay longer than what the schedule suggested. I ended up being at work an hour later than “normal” but that ended up being a good thing. One of the preceptors I was working with when I first moved to Nebraska was at the clinic. She signed me off on all of the water room stuff along with a lot of other paperwork that needed to get done, so I don’t have to go to work today. Hooray!

It did give me a bit of silver lining towards the end, but I was so done with the day that I knew it didn’t really matter in the moment. It would matter when I woke up and had the day to myself. In the moment, however, I still had a 30-minute drive home, plus having to figure out dinner, plus dreading the thought that I might have pushed myself so far that I wouldn’t be able to sleep because my body is weird like that sometimes.

I made it home. I had a cigarette with Ox as I talked a bit about my day. One of the things that added to the level of “hardness” was that I couldn’t find my socks when I got to work yesterday morning. I’ve been leaving my shoes in my locker. I wear my flipflops into work and I switch shoes before I clock in. I had made sure I had socks in the front pocket of my backpack before I left but when I got to work I couldn’t find them. I checked my car. I checked the parking lot…

Nothing.

So I spent the whole day sockless which felt weird and gross and, again, didn’t help anything.

Me: Fuck you, too, Universe…

I guess they had fallen out in the driveway at home because Ox found them when he got back to the house. So much lame. >.<

It’s something I’ve been thinking about, though. How I only have two pairs of socks and that I really would like to get a few more pairs. I want to leave a stash of clean socks at work with my shoes and take the dirty ones home with me. Once they’ve been washed and are clean again I can take the stash with me back to work and not have to worry about forgetting a pair and having to go through another horrifically sockless day.

That will most likely have to wait until Friday though since I’m broke until I get paid.

It was nice to stand outside and unwind and bitch for a bit before going into the house. When we eventually came inside I made a ham sandwich along with a glass of Jack and Coke and I didn’t feel bad about doing it.

Ox’s mom came home with groceries and started making spaghetti for dinner, which is where things became super painful for me.

Spaghetti sounded amazing, and I jokingly made the comment about his mom being the best mom ever… It wasn’t until after I said those words that I realized the words I had said and there really wasn’t a way to recover from them.

I felt awful. Awful in levels that I haven’t felt in a really long time.

How?

How could I have said those words even as a joke?

How could I have done that to my own mom, when she hasn’t even been dead for two years?

It gave the hopeless, pointless feelings an even stronger grasp on my sad, exhausted mind. My drink became one of dulling pain you can’t hide from. Pain you know is still there but the alcohol makes you more ok with the sensation of slowly bleeding to death from a wound only you can feel.

When Ox told me things would be ok I said that I knew they would be, I just wished it felt like it. I said I knew all of this was from tiredness and that I would be better after sleeping. Knowing those facts didn’t seem to make last night any easier and I struggled with the question of “Why?” for the rest of the time I was awake, which wasn’t long thankfully.

I still don’t have answers to those questions. Why go throw this? What’s the point? What’s the meaning of life and the reason to suffering through every day for the rest of forever without mom? Why accomplish anything when I can’t tell her about it? When she can’t be part of it?

Still no deep philosophical answers for any of that. I still don’t have a reason other than I promised that I would because I knew/know she wants me to keep going. Other than because I actually do smile small smiles when I’m alone and thinking about the future and how it could play out. Because I actually do feel warmth more often than not now when I think about living my life even if I have to fight through anxiety and terror at the thought of losing it all. At having it burn down to ashes or shatter into shards around me. Watching it slip through my fingers into helpless ruin as I have to continue to survive and function as another precious thing that I love dies in front of me.

I know that may seem overly dramatic but that’s what I feel when I think about enjoying my life. Mom died and it felt like I lost everything. I didn’t have a reason to keep going. I didn’t have a purpose. And now that I’m finding those things again, feeling them again, I’m scared of feeling those feelings of loss all over again. It sucks and it’s another part of the healing process; acknowledging and working through all of these annoying, relentless feelings…

I don’t really know where I’m at in the recovery process. All I can say is that after sleeping, living doesn’t seem like the dauntless, impossible task that it did yesterday and that I do have the energy and mild drive to do the things I want and need to do today.

I did cough a bit last night. I don’t remember when I fell asleep. I remember eating dinner and talking about work and answering a bunch of questions about dialysis. I remember finishing my drink. I think I remember curling up in bed after dinner, but that’s hazy and I don’t remember anything past that point.

I think Ox came to bed… At least I’m assuming at some point he did because when I woke up at 11pm coughing my remaining lung out he was asleep beside me. I stayed in bed hoping it was a fit that would pass but after a while, I got up and slept on the couch since being elevated more seems to help with the coughing.

Around 4:45 this morning I woke up again. I crawled back into bed and slept until Ox woke me up to say goodbye before going to work. We had a cigarette outside together. I wished him well.

He said there was $40 for me to go grocery shopping since the previous night, while we were on the porch, I had mentioned that I wanted to cook my chicken zoodle meal for lunch this week, but that I didn’t have any money aside from my credit card and I didn’t want to use it again. I could survive until Friday; the day I get paid.

He tried giving me the money last night. I was still in my “near tears” mode when I asked, “Please don’t.” Accepting the money or help of any sort feels like failing. It feels like I’m not doing good enough on my own still. It feels like I’m not holding up my end of the deal where I support myself and help make things easier.

I don’t think that’s how he sees it. He said we’re supposed to help each other and that he understands getting help and support from my partner isn’t something I’m used to. The money is sitting next to me as I type this and I still don’t like the idea of using it, which conflicts with the feelings of warmth at the thought of being able to have one of my favorite meals which I haven’t been able to make in over a month. I would be able to buy the little instant coffee packs to have coffee at work for the rest of the week. I could get coffee creamer for at home. And I could get them without adding more interest to the credit card. I could have small, nice things, that would make my days a little brighter…

It’s not my money, though, and my brain makes me painfully aware of that fact. It’s a gift. It’s kindness. And there’s an injured part of me who feels unworthy of this kindness. Like I have to repay it in some way because if I don’t then I owe and owing is bad.

I still need to figure that out, like so many other things in my emotional life. /sigh

I do know that so far the morning has been nice. I stayed in bed until 9 since I didn’t have to be awake for anything. I’ve had breakfast which consisted of a donut. In no way healthy, but it was still good and I gave the Universe the middle finger as I ate it for all the shit I dealt with yesterday. I’ve had part of my coffee as I sat on the porch. It’s a cold day today but at least it’s not rainy like yesterday. I don’t dread the thought of having to drive into town in icky weather or worry about ice being on the roads.

I plan to shower after I finish writing since that will hopefully help generate a bit more energy within myself. I want to start a load of laundry since Ox and I both need clean clothes. I can drive into town, do the grocery shopping, then come back to finish up with meal prep and the clothes, ensuring everything is done and in line since I work the next three days in a row.

One of the things with the kitchen was the top shelves being full of dusty, unused mason jars. I pulled them all down last week and vacuumed up the dust on the shelves. I also washed the jars so they aren’t icky anymore. Ox’s mom wants to keep most of them. Right now they’re in cardboard boxes in the living room, taking up space and not really doing any better of a job about being out of the way then they were in the kitchen. Maybe worse actually…

I would like to wrap them up in the bubble wrap I saved from moving up here and pack them into one of the bins I had planned to donate. Warren got me a few replacement bins for the ones of mine he still had in his room, but they’re a different size than my original ones, so I don’t like them because they’re different. I know that’s petty and silly, but there you go. They don’t match so they don’t belong…

I think it would be a good use for at least one of the bins; storing the jars. That way the jars are safe and neatly tucked away in one location in a fairly nice bin that is totally usable… just not for anything regarding my personal stuff because I’m weird … myself…

I haven’t figured out where to put the bin after it’s full… maybe in the basement once that gets cleaned. It would be silly to put it in the addition since we still need to straighten it up and finish the electrical work… or maybe in the laundry room once things out there get squared away…

Yeah… there’s a lot of work to be done, but the gears are turning and I know as Ox and I become less sick and the weather turns better things will start moving forward faster.

On the subject of to-do stuff… I also want to reach out to my old landlord and see what’s going on with the lease since I can’t get a straight answer from Warren. He did finally replay to me, which I almost wish he hadn’t…

He says he’s going to “try to make the internet account a priority this week,” you know… since it’s been over a month since I’ve been gone and it still hasn’t been taken care of… He also said that I never gave him an address to send my spare key to and that’s why he hasn’t sent it yet.

Dick… You could have mentioned two weeks ago that you didn’t have an address to send it to rather than making it seem like I was my fault it hadn’t gotten taken care of yet…

He said he didn’t know anything about a roommate release form…

I’m not supposed to be on the lease… that means I have to be signed off the lease… how did you not know there should have been another form when we’ve been talking about this since before I moved?

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In lighter news, I was told that the reimbursement for the test fee and registry fee for work should happen pretty quickly so I’m hoping for that to be part of this coming paycheck.

Anywho, Right now I want to take care of my day and keep making small steps towards progress so what’s what I’m going to go do.

 

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