Standing in the Shadows

Pants Sr. is taking one step forward and one, maybe two steps back. He was getting better, then a setback, then better and now another setback. First, he had his unexpected issue in the OR. Then when he had begun to heal, his belly swelled up like he was about to have triplets - Cause? Collapsed lung and he gets to get a chest tube. Now I have watched my fair share of ER and Trauma - Life in the ER and all that crap on TLC. I know that having a chest tube put in always appears to be the most excruciating thing that ever happens to anyone.

Sometimes, they are pretty accurate on those shows, it seems. Pants' Daddy said that was the worst thing EVER.

His belly doesn't go down much at all, so they take him back in and open him up a little bit more. The surgeon said it was like an innertube being stabbed - air came whooshing out of his abdomen and his stomach immediately deflated. They poked around but couldn't find anything, so they closed him back up. That would begin his healing again.

Then, yesterday they discover a clot in his leg. Thrombosis. So they now have begun a round of blood thinner that will take no less than five days to run it's course. For a man who is always up doing something and has absolutely no desire to retire, this sitting in bed all day is really wearing him down. He had hoped to be home by Halloween. Now, we hope to have him home by Thanksgiving.

We were all supposed to go to the mountains for Thanksgiving - a Pants family get together. I know the boys and I were ridiculously excited and so was everyone else. Of course, my excitement was partially of a selfish nature..... Being in the mountains with them meant I did not have to see my family that weekend! Woohoo! Thanksgiving has never been a big deal to me - I just enjoy the days off, but a big celebration? No. My mother has to get out the fine China and silver service every year and make some big deal about it. That sounds nice in theory, but you must realize that every single time we all get together, it ends badly. Every. Single. Time. My sister and sister-in-law don't like each other too much, they start sniping at each other, my mom gets mad and mutters things under her breath and flings spoons in the sink and I just sit there. Willing my watch to tick faster. For the love of God, has the damn thing stopped? Then, after the meal, everything has to be washed by hand and you have to count all the silver. She swears my nephew threw away a fork one year. So my SIL & I stand at the sink for two hours washing and drying (all the while with instructions being given by my mother and sister) until our hands shrivel up and fall off. My sister never moves from her seat. She is far too busy looking at the sale ads. Determining what she is going to spend my portion of the inheritance on the next day, I am quite certain.

So anyway, I told Pants Sr. that I would be mad and possibly never forgive him if he didn't quit this nonsense and get better so we could go to the mountains. He laughed when I said he was being very selfish and needed to start thinking about me instead of himself. Of course, I was kidding. Sorta.

That is usually how I deal with fear and sadness. Humor and sarcasm. My two best friends. So I am standing in the shadows as this wonderful family deals with the uncertainty, fear and helplessness of watching someone they love struggle. I know it could all be so much worse. I realize we are lucky that he is doing as well as he is. But that doesn't make this any better or easier. The uncertainty is keeping us all from getting our hopes up when he has a good day. He has had many good days only to get scary news the next day. I still am so very afraid that he won't be the same. I have seen that happen with my father and it is hard to accept and hard to watch. It is etched into your brain and haunts you. It seeps into every memory and discolors your thoughts. You can't recall a happy moment without the final portion of that thought being how they changed. How they had become somehow so much less, it seemed, that what they had been.

Whomever said time heals all wounds had no wounds. Time heals nothing when it comes to losing someone you love or having them weaken before your eyes. Time may make the memory and the wound more tolerable, but it is never healed. It is always tender and likely to reopen.

I do not want Pants to have to deal with that. I know eventually he will have to deal with his parents passing, but not yet. Not when there is so much left to do and so many memories left to make. My Daddy died 15 years ago. Fifteen years. And as I sit here typing this, my eyes are filled with tears and my heart is very heavy. If you had told me 15 years ago that this would still affect me like it does, I never would have believed you. I think that is why I am praying and begging for Pants' father to get better and get back to where he was. I just want to protect him from this. I know I cannot, so I just keep trying to reassure him that it will all be okay. He seems to be handling this better than me, so I am afraid he is keeping it all inside. He is exhausted, he hasn't seen the boys for more than five hours in the past two or three weeks and he is working overtime on top of all the nights at the hospital. I worry about him. But I would not let him do this any other way. He needs to be there. For his Dad, his Mom and his sister. I try and go up there during my lunch hour and visit as well as on the weekends, but I think his presence there is much more necessary. He is very strong, protective and kind. I think when he is there, everyone has faith it will all be ok.

I am choosing to believe it will be.