Packing, unpacking, repacking. That is my full day of work these days. I have a major list, a minor list, a list for dogs, a list to do before we go, a list to get when we get where we are going. My typical anxiety rides in my bones as I busy myself. In between times I am making Christmas ornaments and gifts to take with me. I wake up in the night and work on painting and sewing and reorganizing. I will be glad to get in the car and begin the three-day drive. Then I settle in and get excited. Until then, trip anxiety, as usual.
There are dogs to arrange to have a vacation at our neighbors. They need their beds, their blankies, their toys. They need their food and treats. They are going to learn to go “walkie” night and morning so they need their jackets, leashes and halters. I am sending their barking collars that buzz, just because. There are instructions on sleep time, potty times, night rituals. I expect little Winnies to regress with his potty training so I need to take potty pads, pooper scooper, containers. Winnie has wicked separation anxiety so I am sure he is going to have Issues. He cannot bear for me to go into the bathroom and close the door without issues. The two are going to have to deal with an adult that works and is not there for their every beck and call... read: bark and cry. I have angst about that because Winnie is still a baby and our neighbor is used to big dogs and their patterns. Winnie is a Deer-faced chihuahua and a whole different breed. For instance, he will not go where it is dirty. And our neighbor might not have the time to keep up with him. I worry that she will be angry with him… he is such a baby.
I have to pack medicine, gauzes, tapes, creams, betadine, and medicinal strips for The Bee Man’s leg and foot. I have a whole case of the meds and socks and wraps used by Home Care to take. That gives me angst because I have to be able to put on and take off his compression stockings and make sure he does not get sores happening. Driving is not going to help a leg that needs to be up more than down during the day.
I am fussing because everything I own is for three sizes bigger than I am now. I worry about how to keep my sugars up or down at its own will. I worry about me having to drive for long periods because I get tired and so does The Bee Man. I worry about the roads and the weather. I worry about Cabbage Hill, one of the highest roads to climb in Western States. I worry about being cold and taking clothes for the two days we will be in winter and then clothes for the warmer climate of Southern Arizona. My thought is to take as little as necessary and buy clothes that fit down there.
I worry about having enough finances to make do in case of emergencies. I worry about having to walk for hours in a casino while The Bee Man continues to play Black Jack. I worry about having to get medicines or have problems with BP or BS down there. I am worrying about having enough Ozempic for the two weeks since I am on a list to receive mine and I am 60 or 70 on the list and they cannot promise to have any for me before then. My blood sugars are not stabilized without it. I am fussing because they need to be giving it to diabetics that need it before they give it to those who are using it for weight loss.
I have noticed, along with pre-travel angst, that I have been living my life with a deep gaping ledge just below the surface of all I do and say. It has been here since JanaDee died. It is like bits of my body, mind, heart and soul have a great crack and the crack goes deep. Things are not flowing like they should. There seems to be a space of time, maybe even millisecond, where my heart is saying, “she is gone.. she is gone...” and it echoes up into my consciousness. I cannot express it any differently. It is like I am driving a car full speed, doing whatever it is I am doing, and I brake just in time to avoid falling in. The falling in is something I have been avoiding. It is a huge cavernous hole that is dark and I would not be able to find my way out. It is why I keep super busy. It is why I watch tv at night until I nod off. It is why I cannot get out and do things. I am lethargically busy. I am going to talk to some Medicine People before I go on this trip. Maybe their counsel will give me room for thought while I am gone and I can gather up those parts of me that need stitching together.
I will be excited when we are in the vehicle and on our way. I am sure I am experiencing fear, again (my theme for the year was “Conquer Fear: Determination, Trust”) in that I fear good things happening because it gets taken away in some way. We are such complex beings...I am a complex being. So many “leftovers” affect us without us even knowing the reason. I have had so much experience in conquering fears and this year has been a great pressure cooker for that. This trip anxiety is just another way for me to conquer fear in my life. Losing JanaDee has affected me in ways that one would not expect and others cannot understand unless they have had to deal with complex grief. The sorrow is nearly gone but there are still residuals of abandonment and rejection to work on. One would think that when we got this old that we would have more of our proverbial chite together. I wonder what my theme/word of the year will be for next year.
©Carol Desjarlais 11. 23.23
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