I’ve been going back and forth about whether I should publish this post. Part of me thinks I'm just being silly, but the other part thinks it’s totally valid and worth sharing. Guess which part won?
So here goes. For the past 12 days, I have had a headache.
Not just any ordinary headache, but the worst headache of my life. It came on
as a dull, normal headache Friday evening. I didn’t think much of it, until I
woke up Saturday feeling like somebody was drilling into my skull with a really
long drill bit. It got worse throughout the day and nothing seemed to help. Not
Tylenol, not ibuprofen, not a heating pad, not massage. The only relief came
when I could curl up in bed in complete quiet and darkness. This went on for
the rest of the weekend. Thankfully Chris was around to help with things like
feeding our children. Being around them, particularly Gabriel, was excruciating
because bending my head in the slightest way caused piercing pain
and he’s hardly quiet or understanding. He would come into my room (more like
a cave) as I was resting and climb and jump on me. Not helpful, but I still
appreciated that he wanted to be with me.
On Monday I went to the doctor. I was seriously getting
concerned because my Dad had two strokes—one when he was 42 that left him
paralyzed and the other when he was 56 that was fatal. With this genetic
legacy, I didn’t want to take any chances. The doctor said it was probably just
a bad migraine and gave me some migraine medicine. He said if it didn’t help, I
should get an MRI the next day. He also said that there was a small chance
that, given my family history, there could be a “leak” in a blood vessel, which
would be very serious.
Well, the migraine medicine did absolutely nothing. And so,
as the day and evening progressed, my mind started to wander in some dangerous
directions. Like, well, if the migraine medicine isn’t helping, maybe it’s not
a migraine. If it’s not a migraine, what is it? Maybe it’s a leaking blood
vessel in my brain that’s about to explode. Maybe I’m on the verge of having a
stroke. Maybe I’ll go to sleep and never wake up. Yes, I’m sorry to say that
all of these thoughts crossed my mind quite a few times. They crossed Chris’s
mind, too. For awhile, we just sat together in the dark. He was saying things
like, “please don’t die.” I couldn’t control my tears thinking about my
children having to go on without me. Gabriel is only 3 and
probably wouldn’t even remember me. Sure, he’d see me in pictures, but that’s
not the same as real memories. Roslyn is growing into a young woman. She needs
me for talking about all that girl stuff. They both need me. Period.
I cried and cried thinking of everything I would miss. But I
cried more for them. After all, I’d be gone and wouldn’t know the difference.
It’s THEM who would be left with having to go on without me. I know what that’s
like—having to go on. I did it when I was 18 and my Dad died suddenly from that
second stroke. I did it in 2007, when my beautiful baby girl just didn’t wake
up one day—I’m still doing it, in fact. I did it three years ago, when I
watched my Mom take her last breath after an intense, losing battle
with cancer. I know what it’s like to be left behind and it really sucks.
I thought about my blog’s subtitle—“My Life With and Without
My Children” and it got me thinking about life and death and all the things in
between—how precious and fragile it all is. And how when you think that you
might be kissing your son goodnight for the last time or hearing your beautiful
daughter sing a song for the last time, it kinda puts things in perspective
again.
Despite everything that’s happened in my life and the
precious loved ones I’ve lost, it’s still easy to get caught up in silly,
day-to-day things. I let myself get annoyed a lot, in fact. Last night, Chris
reminded me that this isn’t good. He told me I need to stop
stressing so much and that I need to take better care of myself. Maybe this
headache is my body’s way of telling me this, too. So, I have decided it’s time yet
again to let go of all that is not important, everything
that is beyond my control. It’s time to regroup and take better care of myself.
Because if I’m in good shape, I’ll be able to do a better job taking care of
my beloved family.
Oh, and just so I don’t leave you hanging. I did have the
MRI last Tuesday and it was normal. So, huge relief that there’s no leaking
blood vessels or tumor in my brain. My doctor gave me a different medication—this
one for tension headache—which has helped. I’ve been able to function again, although
the headache has lingered. Today, as I write this, it is almost gone, which
gives me hope that taking some time to take care of myself and to RELAX a bit
more is a step in the right direction. Tomorrow I'm going to get a massage while Gabriel is at school. That seems like a good place to start!
