-2* here in Central Kentucky, with a real feel of -17*.
I call "Bullshit"! Rick & I have spent many hilarious hours around the table playing that card game, Bullshit, with our kids & grandkids - but this is no game! It is too damn cold! Yes, it makes the coffee even "gooder" - but still! Brrrrrr
3 years ago today. Rick slept late. We had brunch & coffee. Thought it was just going to be a lazy day of settling back into our RV after a week or so at the old house. Sometime around lunch Rick sat down at the table, and said, "I need you to look at something for me. I think there is a problem." His voice was laden with concern. My heart stopped for a beat. I turned around, looked at him, and in his eyes I saw "Fear". That was something I very rarely saw in his eyes.
I asked him what was going on. He simply stood up, pulled down his pants, and pointed to his "manhood". I looked down and what I saw. OMG! Flaming red, swollen, you could see the pulsing of pain.
I looked back at his face, and tears were on his cheeks.
I immediately called his dialysis nurse. She said it sounded like a "simple yeast infection" - not unusual in a dialysis patient. She consulted with the nephrologist, called me back. 2 prescriptions called in, drink lots of water, increase dialysis solution at night, wash with warm water a couple of times a day, keep as dry as possible.
21 days, 3 doctor appointments & 4 prescriptions later, pain beyond what he could tolerate (more than once in those 21 days he begged me to just take the kitchen butcher knife and "cut it OFF!") ... we found out it was not a "simple yeast infection".
3 years ago today, the final downward spiral began.
Yes, I remember, more clearly than I ever thought I would. It is like a movie playing back in my mind. I can see his face, hear his voice, feel his tear under my finger as I wiped it away.
I also remember how naive, or was it being in denial, I was. I kept reassuring him that everything would be "ok". That I had had many yeast infections over the years. We even searched "yeast infections" on the web, the dangers, the causes, the treatments, etc...
There is a part of my heart that is now accepting of it all - it truly was the beginning of the end. In that acceptance, I find an amount of guilt. Guilt because I didn't see it then, or if I saw it, if my heart knew it then, I refused to admit it. I was so intent on him being better, getting well, and our life together continuing. I wonder if I missed something that could have made that happen?
It's over. Done. He is gone. Nothing I do is ever going to bring him back.
But in these questions, in the depths of guilt and regret - - there is a hell. No answers. No peace.
All I can do is take a deep breath and one more step forward.
As I was writing this I was overcome with fear, grief, anger, guilt, and a hundred other emotions. I stepped away from the computer, brushed my hair, put it up - and in doing so, I also looked in the mirror. I see the grief still weighing heavily on my heart. I see the emptiness in my eyes. I see that life goes on - even when I don't want it to anymore.
I'm tired. Weary deep in my heart. I miss so damn much about Rick & about our life together.
Over is a cruel word.
Because of the cold weather I was considering not going to the eye doctor this afternoon. But I think it best to bundle up, brave the cold, and go. Get out of the house. Do this for ME. One step forward.
Alone is also a very cruel word.
So why "Scattered Feathers" ? ? ?
You can read it here