So, it’s been one hell of a spring. Between my daddy having a stroke, traveling to Florida and then to see him, and less than a month later finding out that I had a major blood clot in my left leg which blocked the blood flow to my toes, type I diabetes, and a blocked carotid, things in my life have changed drastically. The man my heart said was invincible proved not to be and my stupid body… Argh!
Daddy’s in rehab. He doesn’t sound like him anymore. I worry about him, every day.
Mornings used to be 4-6 cups of coffee and eggs and bacon. Now mornings are 10 pills, an injection, oatmeal and one cup of java.
I have two toes that may or may not have to be amputated. The big toe looks… less scary than the baby toe.
Then there’s 4 pills for lunch, 4 pills for supper, 2 at bedtime and another 4 injections and 3 blood sugar monitor pokes.
The diet has changed. The rules have changed. Everything has changed and I feel a little like I’m just struggling to catch up. My carotid is 70% blocked (interestingly on the same side and weird placement as Daddy’s and the doctors wouldn’t have known to look if he hadn’t had his stroke) and the doctor is going to wait for me to have a little stroke before doing the surgery. I had to get a medic alert bracelet that said stroke risk.
Every time I go into the cardiac care unit they say, “But you’re so young.” Then they look worried.
Shit, I’m not worried, I’m scared. We’re self-employed, we write for a living. We write happy endings and I’m trying to work around all the emotions swirling around my brain (and a lot of the possible endings aren’t happy).
I keep telling myself I have a wife and family that loves me, good doctors, a job that I love. I have been reliably informed that I am the most stubborn human being alive, so if I say I’m going to follow what we call the “don’t have a stroke” diet, I will.
I believe in happy endings.
I believe I can do this.
Even if I still want more than one cup of coffee a day.
Much love, y’all.