My husband had a really bad, completely awful weekend. He’s now coming around to the other side of this chemo cycle, so I can let out my breath a bit.
Understandably, the focus is on him, as it should be; he’s the one who is fighting to stay alive. But I admit to sometimes wishing anyone at all cared about how I was holding up through all of this. (Answer: not well at all.)
But life goes on anyway.
My son at college is getting involved in groups, which I think is so great and I’m so proud of him. Being social doesn’t come naturally to him at all, so I know how much he’s pushing past his natural tendencies.
I did coach him a lot on social things before he went to college. Mainly, I just reassured him repeatedly that he was likable and he should assume that people would like him. (And I also warned him against bragging—a common trap for smart kids, ask me how I know?) I also encouraged him to ask other people questions about themselves.
I know how to make friends, I just can’t seem to do it myself.
He’s also had bad nausea and stomach problems pretty much since he’s been away at school. He went to the doctor yesterday and they diagnosed him with an ulcer. I talked to my daughter about that and she said she had similar symptoms starting at the same age, which have progressed to being pretty much constant stomach pain now.
Mind you, my husband had the stomach problems first, and we see where that led him.
Meanwhile, my oldest daughter has had more contact with me in the past few days since she moved out than she ever had while she was still living here. She sends me pictures by text, mostly of how her cat is doing. I like the contact, though. We seem to be getting along very well now that she’s moved out.
But I still can’t write anything for Medium yet. I broke my streak when I shared an article with my mom about why you should apologize to your kids. That’s still a hill I’m willing to die on. I just don’t know how to get my writing momentum back again.
I need to find a way to get more writing clients, too, since my main client has cut my work by a third. I feel like I am capable of doing more. I just have to decide if I want to pursue more writing work or try going back to school for my masters to become a therapist.
I guess a lot of that depends on my husband and how long he’ll be around. I try convincing myself he’ll be around for several more years. But yesterday I brought up the idea of getting new dressers (we still have hand-me-downs that don’t match) and said that he could get financing for one year with no interest.
He asked how I knew if he’d still be around in a year. And though it was extremely sobering to hear, I don’t actually know if he’ll still be around in a year.
So again I wonder: why doesn’t anyone ever ask how I’m doing? I don’t even know if my husband will still be alive in 12 months. I’m honestly starting to wonder if maybe he knows something I don’t.