Wednesday, August 23, 2006

It can always get worse

There was blood in Chase's stools. I made him show me. I used the cardboard part of a hanger to fish it out of the toilet, plop it on a paper plate and stab through it to make sure, hoping it really wasn't, though I already knew it was. Why this? Why now? Could things get any worse, but I fear even letting that thought linger in my head because I know that they can. I believe in God, but where is he?

I took Chase to the emergency room by myself. I prefer it that way. I recite the details very calmly to the check in administrator. I have to state it calmly, oh so matter of factly, or I'll lose it. Then the nurse, then another nurse, then the doctor on duty, as well as Chase's regular specialists as I get them on the phone and tell them where we are and what has happened. Each time I feel my throat closing just a little tighter and I'm not certain my voice will work, or tears won't gush. I can't cry, not one drop or else I can't stop and I'm not the kind of person who can be understood when I get going. Plus Chase is there, worried about himself, and I can't lose it now.

Then I start doing something odd and completely out of character, but it works. It works divinely. In my mind, I start swearing, the most foul, ghastly utterances that I can come up with, many starting with M and F and M and F again. Things that in my worse stressed out shouted swearing moments wouldn't even slip out. It's so ridiculous. But the complete absurdity of it works. My throat loosens and I'm able to stay calm, my voice is steady. Yes, he is on this medication. (&%#$$***&&&n$$$$$) I have my insurance card right here. (&&&**$###**$$%) I first noticed the blood this morning. (&&^**%%%$$%%%).

During the EGD, I was completely alone in the surgery waiting room. My choice. I have friends and family that would have come in a heartbeat if I had even let them know. But I prefer to deal with it alone. If anyone gives me sympathy or says a kind word while I am trying to cope, I will lose it all the way and become a blubbering puddle on the floor. This is the only way I can survive it, alone, without having to speak or explain anything over and over to sympathetic faces. I can't be strong when other people are trying to be strong for me. There will be time for that later, but not right now.
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