The hardest part...

March 27, 2015

The hardest part for me...

Once the dust of another morning routine has settled, and everyone has gone off in a different direction I find myself lost in thought, my attention spinning  from what I need to get done and then to Debbie and how her morning is going? Followed by the swelling of anger I feel for the injustice of what has happened to her and how brave she was before the surgery.


A constant thrust of thoughts lurch through my mind, like that of an unbalanced teeter-totter, up then down, anger then sadness, jolting me each time I hit the bottom again. Recalling the days before her surgery, the courage she held was unmistakable, though worry still existed, she pushed it aside ready to take on the burden before her. I had admired her for many things in life, but this one had me in awe. 

Fearing the unknown is a normal response for anyone and although I know she was anxious for the upcoming surgery, she was ready to get beyond this segment and begin her life again. Keeping a brave face for her husband, boys and even me, she smiled, joked and shed a few tears before they wheeled her off to the operating room. Hope filled the room with the oxygen we needed, as we helplessly held our breath.


Before all the sadness in our lives, I practically believed that suffering was divided equally, that one family would not share the impact of so much heartache. Or maybe I had hoped my faith would be enough, and not showing my fear would be the kismet needed? How could I allow this false hope to consume my thoughts, anchoring my belief that we were due our happy ending as predictable as a Nicholas Sparks novel.

Now my inner cynic heeds to the famous "life's not fair" mantra, the one so many never suffering seem to rant. One would council me to concentrate on the blessings, and I often do, but there are times when we need an opportunity to step away from the grace we are seeking. Giving ourselves time to shed the necessary tears and once freshly awoken we can set out in search of the light once more.


Currently Debbie does not remember that she had surgery, which could be a good thing, but instead another reminder of all the things absent. Each day a clean slate, beginning with questions about the boys or where she is supposed to be. Currently we are filling her days with activities geared to help her thrive and maintain simple tasks, and many times they exhaust her. Changes in medication and doctors are on going as we continue to navigate through this unknown area of the brain.


While many of the days are a daunting repeat of questions filled with frustration and disappointment, Debbie continues to adorn our time together with her humor. At our most recent TBI outing she recognized the nice looking doctor that took care of her at Mentis. While I was thrilled with her ability to remember him, she added laughter that continues to bubble up in me still.

As the three of us approached the doctor Debbie turned to Gordon and I and said, "You and Tina can go get the car," giving her time to chat with the nice looking doctor. We all busted out laughing as her playfulness fills us up once more...



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Traumatic Brain Injury

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