My husband worked from home yesterday because he wasn’t feeling well enough to go into the office. Unfortunately, he has to go in tomorrow and I just really hope he’ll be doing well enough.
I slept a really long time yesterday, which was much needed. But when I woke up, all the anxiety came flooding back in.
On the positive front, Chloe has an interview scheduled with Starbucks in a couple weeks. And she switched therapists and her new therapist is much, much more helpful than her first one was. I’m proud of how well she’s doing advocating for herself.
I realized that the reason I want Dyl to move back home is for me, though. He wasn’t able to call like usual last weekend because he was hanging out with friends. Those friendships are what will make him more likely to stay there and I know that’s a good thing that he needs.
It’s me that misses having him around here and I realize that those feelings aren’t necessarily reciprocated. And I know that’s the normal order of things and I don’t want to take it away from him. I know he still loves me. But this time of his life isn’t all about catering to my “fee-fees” and it’s my job to get used to it.
Realistically, even if he were to move back home and transfer to UNT, I would have to drive him and that would probably be harder on my health anyway.
Still, I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom about my husband’s health. I don’t know if there’s any validity to my feelings of doom or if they’re just fears. What I do know is that we’re about halfway through the five years they give for life expectancy and things look quite a bit worse than they did a year ago.
I have to start really thinking about what I’m going to do and where I’m going to live when he’s gone. Not because I think that will happen soon but because it’s now a lot easier for me to envision him taking a sudden turn for the worse and not coming back from it.
I’m still really hopeful that he will make it back to NED status on this chemo regimen. But I no longer count on it. Things just feel too scary.