I know the surgery is only 9 days away, and I am worried. Who is going to help me here with my father? The gov’t program that I have been signing him up for since last September has still not told me he is approved-even though we spent 1500 on a lawyer to set up a Qualified Income Trust, just because Dad is 26.00 over the income limit!
So, while I thought he was going to have a nurse here with him, now I don’t know. I may have to pay out of pocket for help at 16.50 an hour. That is what caregivers’ do, I know. What gets me is turning my stomach in knots, worrying about things I cannot change. Time for the serenity prayer, for all kinds of prayers and for faith to move mountains. I have been thinking lately that I am not as strong as I used to be, and how hard these surgeries are going to be to recover from. And I am scared.
There, I said it.
I always prided myself on being so tough when I was on the street. Nicknames like “Amazon” due to my size, and how physically strong I was, made me have a false sense of invincibility. And the coke helped too. Even after I got clean I still wanted to fight. I wanted to be in ‘tough woman’ contests, and to box. I prided myself on all the physically hard work I could do, keeping up with guy’s doing traditionally male jobs at a time when it was not as common to do so. I was a rigger for the crane on one job which was building a tank support facility, and missile silos on base where I was the only female. Once, while I was working a Cement Plant shut-down, they put me to work with a young black man, both of us shoveling cement dust out of a silo. The man quit because the other guys were teasing him about being able to keep up with me! But all these rough, hard, tough things I did, in the end, do not make me tough. The fact that I stayed with a man who beat me unconscious does not make me tough, riding a HD does not make me tough, nor does any of my drinking, drugging, fighting or jail time.
When it comes down to it, I am just pitiable, and cold, blind and naked in the eyes of God.
Having faith makes me strong…
So, I will come through this, one way or another. And my Dad will be fine, no one will let him die while I am away. If I don’t come back to write for a while it’s because I can’t move. But just wait… I’ll be back soon.!