Sunday, April 19, 2009

like a blister in the sun

Your comments and emails and general loveliness has been so wonderful. I truly thank you, the knowing that there is a place to say what I want and to have it heard means more than you know. But since you've asked, the truth is this all kind of sucks. Chances are everything is peachy but since we don't know we can't really make plans.  If everything is fine then....or well if you end up being sick then....but there isn't really a finish to the conversation because we simply have no idea.  

I'd like to say we are making the best of it but the truth is it's making us cranky.  Well that, and living at my parents house is a bit of a grind. Plus I'm feeling sullen, my birthday is coming up on Thursday and while it's just a birthday and it's really no big deal, I sort of can't help feeling like a teenager and a crone all at the same time.  I want cake. I don't want cake.  

I just want to go back to the jungle and whine about the heat and the bugs.

This week is filled with more doctors but this time it's addressing the original sin, er, issue of the kidneys so once again we'll spend a day or two at the hospital and surgery will ensue and in between we'll wait for the results of the biopsy. Have I mentioned the kidney doctor is a total fox?  Almost makes a girl wish it was her insides he was manhandling and I'm almost jealous I'll be sitting on the sidelines and not the focus of his attention. I said as much in mixed company and received mixed reviews but I'm sure here around this fire you'll give me more rope.  Plus I'm kidding. Duh. Mostly.

I re-read my recent posts and think I'm making this time in our lives sound better than it is. I mean, I am and I'm not.  We are good and we are not.  I am happy and I am not. I am scared and I am not.  I am angry and I am not.  I am self-obsessed and I wish I was not.

But then I watch my child, bubbling over with joy after a day spent with her grandparents and I know that at least for her, life is rolling along just fine and that in some ways is exactly enough.  



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32 comments:

motherbumper said...

I am so frustrated for you and really do wish you were all back in the jungle complaining about the heat. Anyhow, that "exactly enough" stuff is the right stuff since things can't be different (but dang I wish they were different for you)

Omaha Mama said...

Hugs from Nebraska.
And lots and lots of prayers.

If you ever want to ask me those questions that you wanted to ask the nurse...feel free to email. I promise I won't be offended.

I'm hoping this all turns out okay and that you're back in that jungle soon.

slouching mom said...

with you in this waiting game. xo

Gwen said...

I get this, especially the ambivalence. Life is weird that way, the way it's ridiculously monumental and completely mundane all at the same time.

At least you've got a foxy doctor. To look at.

wheelsonthebus said...

thought: i believe your insurance company HAS to keep insuring him (if you pay) if he is sick...

painted maypole said...

we can all use lessons in rolling with the punches. Some kids are good at it by nature, but yours is getting lots of extra lessons. They will serve her well.

alejna said...

Wishing you cake, health, and a rapid return to the creepy crawlies of the jungle. (Actually, this sounds like a job for KC, who perhaps was thinking of you when she went wild with her jungle-themed birthday party. See if she'll make you a snake cake and bug juice.)

I'm sorry things are so hard right now. I'll be thinking of you.

Jennifer said...

Life has this way of rolling and sometimes it's easy to roll with it. Other times, it's easy to get slammed up against some awfully sharp rocks while life keeps rolling along. And damn, sharp rocks HURT.

Your post below, the one titled Rolling? Girlfriend, that is one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I've ever read. It's haunting and gorgeous. You should show it to the foxy doctor. *grin* (kidding! kidding! but, hey...*grin*)

Oh, there is so much to say and no good words. You're in my thoughts, each of you. I'm sending love and strength.

flutter said...

just love you

joker the lurcher said...

through my husband's kidney transplant last october i was doing the cheery jokey thing, just like you say. in some ways it helps you to cope. hope the news is good.

de said...

hang in.

Regina Dwarkasing said...

wishing you all strength you need, admire the openness with which you write about your feelings, thank you for that, there are lessons in it for all of us!
Regina Dwarkasing
St. Maarten DWI

Bethany said...

It's got to be so frustrating, hot doctor or not (and you can have as much rope as you need, sister). When will you hear the biopsy results? Hoping for good news -- and soon! -- so even if you can't get back to your jungle, you can start planning your life again.

Christine said...

xoxo

QT said...

hugs to you, friend. and yes, eye candy at a time like this can only be seen as a positive...:)

TZT said...

Limbo has always felt more like hell to me than that scorchy hell they talk about.

Here's to happy answers from foxy doctors. Soon.

Kyla said...

It always helps me to frame things in a slightly more positive light for the blog...like it all just feels like shit until I sit down to write about it and then somehow, I'm able to find some good in it. Then what I've found kind of sticks with me.

Hang in there, sister.

Lara said...

I just know the goodness you and J throw out to this world is going to keep you afloat.
And seriously, eat your cake, sister. While looking at the foxy doctor!

Kelly (conversemomma) said...

Sometimes I think we have to stay the line of ambivalance as mothers. We have to because the plunge to the dark side would not be worth the break of the fall and witness of our children. Your child is happy because of you. That is the gift you are giving.

hele said...

dude, I think of you everyday*

bgirl said...

standing by you, admiring your authenticity.

Magpie said...

Hoping for good for you all.

(My cell phone ringtone is Blister in the Sun...)

Jessica said...

Sometimes it's hard to post how bad it is for the world to see. Makes it a little too real.

I hope things start looking up soon!

Tabba said...

honey, you can have all the rope you need & then some.

still sending you all the loveliest loving healthy thoughts. :)

Madge said...

"i am and i am not" -- that whole paragraph...... felt like my life.

Ally said...

I would have laughed hard had you talked about the Fox in front of me. Just for the record. I remember when I had an emergency appendectomy and the surgeon came in, I was mortified, because he was super hot and I kept thinking he was going to be operating on the least attractive part of my body: the post-baby tummy flabalicious!

But seriously, Jen, you are in my thoughts. Your situation sounds super stressful (not the least of which is living with your parents, albeit temporarily).

Mad said...

Hang tough, Jen. There will be an end to this and I hope to God that end comes soon and that the three of you are under palm trees once again.

Amanda said...

Am and amn't. I get this and I encourage you to forgive yourself. This is an intense blip deserving of a fierce hug, but this comment'll have to do for now.

Bon said...

here and waiting with you, in what little way i can.

and cake? i think you want cake. i know i always want cake. it fixes nothing but dulls the edges of fear and pain for me quite nicely, i find.

Janet said...

Big hands, I know you're the one.

Peace to your friend bundled in the fervent hope that you're back in the jungle telling this story with a happy ending, very, very soon.

Wayfarer Scientista said...

funny how sometimes when the world is turned inside out and everything is scary it can at the same time be all right because of a child's smile or a beautiful tree or some such thing that can still catch your breath even when you think you should have no energy for the small stuff. Hugs and more hugs. And cake. Homemade cake. Just for you.

Susanne said...

And hugs again. (And again, and again. As you already know.)