For 5 seconds Tuesday, my life was all about me.
I wasn't feeling well and had actually gone to the doctor (so you KNOW I wasn't feeling well). The first 44 minutes, 55 seconds in his office were about my insurance coverage, my medical history, and the illness that brought me in to see him. After he gave me the necessary prescription, he looked me in the eye and asked if there was anything else he could do for me, anything.
In that moment, I could have said anything and it would have been okay. It was all I could do to keep from sobbing; my lower lip was twitching like a cat ready to pounce. But I held back, smiled, and said, No, thanks. That's all.
But for those 5 seconds ... it was all about me.
It wasn't about my mom -- how is she, how is she really, how bad will it be, how long ...
It wasn't about my sister -- thank God she's okay, she makes me crazy, I'm so glad we've got each other, oh poor Jane ...
It wasn't about the boys -- time to go get them, I have to finish this now before I go get them, do I have time for this, idiot child, darling child, oh my poor babies
It wasn't about the house -- the dishes, the bathrooms, the vacuuming, the garbage, the laundry, the cat box
It wasn't about dinner -- what's for dinner, what can I eat, what will the boys eat, what do I have in the house, what should I buy, ugh ... the frying pan is still in the sink
It wasn't about money -- taxes, rent, mortgage, bills, Mother's money, my money, screw money!
It wasn't about grief, loss, parenting, daughtering, sistering, housekeeping.
For 5 seconds, it was about me. Was there anything else he could do for me?
When I got home (after going to the grocery store, putting away food, checking on Mother, checking the clock to see how soon I had to get the boys, feeding Clara, putting on a load of laundry), those 5 seconds hit me again.
Now (after two days of my life being about everybody else), I just want 5 minutes where my life is about me.
Five minutes with someone holding my hand and asking what I need. A kind word. A hug. A hanky. I want to cry for ME for 5 minutes. And I don't want to be alone when I cry.
I'll settle for 5 seconds.
Another Day
11 hours ago
Posts
13 comments:
Oh hon, hugs and love.
(((HUGS)))
I'm hearing you and sending a bit of cyber-love. Probably doesn't help a whole lot and I wish I could do more.
Oh Alicia, if you weren't a half a continent away. I know the feeling though and all I have is words for you. Not enough.
Sending hugs, peace and love. Know that you are not alone.
Oh darling Alicia - with you in my heart and spirit as always - you are loved. (((((((Alicia)))))))
Thank you, my friends.
It is, indeed, good to know that I am loved. I may be alone, but I am loved, and that counts for one hell of a lot in this world.
You are very loved Alicia.
I really like that your doctor asked if there was anything more, and would have listened if you'd started to tell him. The problem is that it would take so long to tell him wouldn't it? Even if you could succinctly tell him, it would take more than 5 minutes to recover from the telling and put your game face back on.
Here, on your blog, we're here for you. No-one else. You. Alicia, whom we love.
There really ARE places you can go to get someone to pay full attention to you and your needs. Counseling immediately comes to mind, but getting a hair cut at a decent salon could also work, or a massage, or maybe a meeting with your pastor? It is well worth the price to have that feeling of being cared for by another person.
My colleague's wife is a GP, and she says that the real business of an appointment is often done in those last five seconds.
That's when they find out what's really on the patient's mind. If anything is.
In any case, it sounds like your doctor is someone you can talk to if you need it, and that's always good to know. Much worse are those impatient ones who can't wait to get you out of the surgery before you even came in.
There is nothing I can do to help other than to let you know, I read your blog everyday and say a prayer for you.
Sounds like you have a great doctor and I am sure he would have listened to all you had to say and it may have helped to get it all out to him.
I wish I had the words.
Cyber-love is not the same as having that "someone," but cyber-love is a pretty powerful thing too. After all, it has kept me going on more than one day.
Lots and lots of cyber-love,
Sandy.
As the disney Toy Story song goes "You have a friend in me". Am sure all of us commenters and your dear friends feel the same.
Amy at amyswaterworks@telus.com I am a 'safe' person. Write if you ever feel the need..
I can keep it going for a long time, just like you, but when I sit down and think about me, or if someone asks about me (what hardly ever happens), it is when the tears come out. I don't really want to think about me. So I keep going.
I know what you mean.
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