My mind has been in conflict trying to construct my emotional state. I have set boundaries for my fear and boundaries for my hope. This conflict has resulted in such stress on my body that I trust a trip to a cardiologist can sort me out. I have done the stress test before. This is where you get to walk or run half naked on a treadmill while a young pimply faced technician gets to look at your boobs, wired of course. This test will take place after a morning at Mayo. Do you think I have a shot at passing?
Jess is still classified as critical (fear). Jess has also remained stable without any device support (hope). I continue this tightrope walking, too fearful to look down to see if there is a net.
On the first night of this journey the doctor forewarned, “bad happens fast, good happens slow.” We are at three and one-half weeks. Is it time for some good? Can we make good happen fast? Can I run on that rope and make it to the other side without looking down? Tip a pink satin top hat and bow to an adoring crowd as my handsome husband greets me on the other side? Can this happen
tomorrow?
Tomorrow's plan is to close Jess in the morning. This would be wonderful. There is a possibility to place in a device if needed, but the doc speculates it may not be. I pray Jess can stay on a healing path and grow his heart strong enough so he will wake up and speak with us. He also needs to be able to watch “March Madness” which has never been missed. I wouldn't be surprised if he says, "Oh hi honey, were is the remote?" Can you believe this? No device and some serious stitching? I could be talking to him by next week! Grab those doodles and pray -- this is huge!
I will close tonight with an anecdote about Phoebe and
her resolved boundary issues.
We have a step-down living room. It is a very short step, however Phoebe would never step into the room. I would sit in the living room reading, coaxing her to my side, and she would stay above the step, cocking her head from side to side. She also would not walk over hoses or vacuum cords. Fear of boundaries.
After an episode of pulling on the upholstery in the den, I do not see Phoebe. She had her “bewitching” hour, got a little rowdy and then --
where was she and why silence? Out of curiosity I walked to the front room, low and behold, look who was making herself comfortable in a living room chair.
Phoebe has taught me to let go of the fear. I go into tomorrow without limitations knowing that something good can happen and it is about time.
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