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.


Faith said...


I wish I knew what to say. I'm one of those people that would have been there in a heartbeat if I'd known, but it sounds like you were better off as it was. I'm glad you found a method to help you cope, no matter how unorthodox it is. There is something strangely satisfying about swearing violently, even if it's only in one's head. Let me know what Joe and I can do for y'all!!

Izzybella said...

I totally understand the concept of cussing up a storm when under stress. :) Faith is right, I think. There *is* something strangely satisfying about letting loose a healthy streak of profanity when you feel powerless in every other way.

I read your later post before this one, so I know he's back home. I'm glad and relieved. Hope things continue to improve. You and yours are always in my thoughts and prayers.

Anonymous said...

Dearest Clover, I ditto Faiths comments, I will stop trying to phone you,and will await your call after the crisis... Know that our love and prayers are with you and Pat and the children and especially with our special Chase. Love, mom .....

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