Oct. 17, 2003 ~ Two steps forward
and one step back. Or maybe two steps forward, three steps back. That's how it seems, sometimes.
I recently had a small setback, while doing the simplest of tasks. The tendonitis which has been present for months, was slowly but steadily improving, to the point where I was able to do a few more things. But a little mistake caused a reinjury of both hands, and while it is not as severe as it was originally, it certainly got my attention.
It is hard to ask for help, or to admit limitations. I used to feel like superwoman, strong and capable, but now I feel older than my years. It has been hardest for Husband, coming to terms with the chronic nature of my situation. He is in a tough position.
His mother is in a nursing home in another state, near his brother's home. His brother's wife is now seriously ill, and she is going for treatment in another city. And now Husband is responsible for helping College Boy get situated at his new college, as I am not able to make the trip. "Not able." It is hard to say those words, harder still to say them and remain upbeat and positive.
So Husband is in a tight spot, trying to be several places at once for his mom and brother, trying to work at his very stressful job, trying to do almost all of the farm chores, and trying to help me around the house. I used to do my share of work around here, and I guess I still do, it's just that "my share" is now much, much smaller than it used to be. This requires that we lower our standards. I don't mean that in a negative way. It's just that there are only so many hours in a day, and Husband is being pulled in many directions, trying to do too much.
When someone else is doing the work, it doesn't seem right to comment about it or make requests about specific chores. I ask for help only when absolutely necessary, and try hard to say nothing about everything else. The physically difficult chores which were once my tasks, are now Husband's jobs, along with all the other things he has to do! He never (Okay, rarely) told me how to do those chores when they were mine, and I try to extend the same courtesy to him. This means that unless asked, I do not offer an opinion about when or if certain things should be done.
The yard looks pretty scruffy sometimes. The carpet gets a little crunchy. You get the idea. Standards must change, by necessity. I am mostly okay with this, but feel a little embarrassed when people visit. I hope that my friends will understand, that they care more about seeing me than whether the yard has been mowed or the house is clean. Several of my friends are extremely organized, and are self-professed neat-freaks. I like them anyway. They tolerate me somehow.
This week I have been taking an antihistamine to help me sleep, and it does help, but it seems to make me a bit groggy and hung over all day. It also seems to affect my thinking, making it even fuzzier than usual (if such a thing is possible). Re-reading this entry, I'm not sure it says what I mean to convey, and it seems somewhat choppy and disconnected, but there you go. Welcome to my world.
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