From Outside

Sometimes life makes you an observer, an outsider to your own life. It is interesting the number of things you miss when you are in it, just getting through each day and too busy to really see.

In my latest medical mystery tour I have been physically slowed down, halted even and parked, made to watch all those events I orchestrate taken over or left aside. My children became more responsible and capable of doing more for themselves but still checking in with me, the head in the bed. My husband became everything, housekeeper, chef, chauffeur, counselor, friend and cheerleader. I wonder how much harder it is to be the one not in the maylay of tests and pain and meds. I am a better patient than caretaker, he is a better caretaker than patient.

My coworkers assured me my absence was absorbed by them making me feel unnecessary. I worked hard to be back and in it again no matter how slowly I moved, how many meds calmed my firing nerves or cramping muscles. I chewed my cheek through the pain and was grateful for my students who made me necessary and never questioned my speed.

The more specialists I've seen the more side effects and mysteries are revealed. Sometimes I think I need a coordinator to make all their ideas equal one syndrome. A specialist is special to their one area but I think they forget they are all working on me. So I add to the list of questions, research them myself and forge ahead. I try not to make any diagnosis more me than me, otherwise being the head in the bed is too comfortable and I am afraid I will no longer want to hear and learn more and try to get better.

I notice people more who move slowly in crowds, who hold their breath as they sit and chew their cheek through each step. I hold more doors and ask more people if they need help. They more often ask me.

Thankfully I watch less and control more today than yesterday. I have more to monitor and watch and test but I am out of bed. I still see those who love me most take care of me best and have learned those who stay away are probably best left there, away.

And I am grateful to be back in it with the help I never noticed I had before.