embrace this

Well, it seems that there was good reason for my hesitation for publicizing my want to embrace another beginning.  Why am I not surprised?

Shortly after coming home from YaYa’s game, I could feel a funk rolling in.  I ignored it and pushed out a short but hard run.  A trip through McD’s drive thru would serve to counteract any good that would come from my efforts.  But I didn’t seem to care.

When we returned home I remained in my car parked in the garage while listening to a song.  I then listened to another, and another, and another until I was sitting in total darkness.  At this point, the feeling of apathy was so subtle that I didn’t think much of it.  I just went with it.

I finally went into the house after talking to Lil Sis on the phone.  Soon, I was in bed with my computer on my lap for some blogging time.  A couple of hours later, I opened my eyes, closed my laptop, and turned off the lights.

It wasn’t until this morning, when I found myself unwilling to jump out of bed when the alarm sounded.  I lay in bed with the want to sleep the day away trying to take hold.  My fight against this feeling was weak.  If there was ever a day to get out of bed quickly, today was it.

One look at the calendar would reveal two things:

1. An 8 am meeting was compelling.  Apathy reasoned that I could technically remain in bed for another hour and still be able to get to work on time.  Bad hair day and no make up would surely be a part of this.
2. Another cycle would soon be upon me.  At least that was what I though the timing was.

For the majority of today, I had February 27th, 2007 in my mind as the day the tumors were discovered. I figured the approaching date was enough to bring on the funk — even though I sort of thought this year would be different.  I turned to my blog after someone asked for a detail that I wasn’t exactly sure about. This was when I realized that I had committed the wrong date to memory.

To be exact, the stroke which sent us to the ER (for the 2nd time in a matter of days) occurred at 9:45 pm on February 25th.  It’s kind of funny — the time, I mean.  The last thing that I remember doing before I went unconscious was leaving a comment on Brit’s blog post where she describes how she marked the 1 year milestone since her friend, Erik’s passing.  That comment, was left around the 9:30 pm.

I remember reading her post, crying when I got to the part about his wife and the daughter who will never really know her dad, feebly leaving leaving a comment that did not even touch upon what I really wanted to say — because I simply could not find the words.

I’m no closer to finding them today than yesterday.  However, I did find the words that I’d written 3 years ago.  As I read back through them, my mind filled in the parts which I didn’t share — and the questions came rushing back, reinforcing that I really do want those medical records.

I know that a lot of you don’t understand why I want to revisit this.  This is another point where I don’t think that I can ever adequately find the words to convey.  I can tell you this, I don’t anticipate it ending here.

Reading through the medical records is simply a step to allow me to clarify a few points, then collect up all of my remaining questions (if any) for Tom’s oncologist.  Three years later, I still want to ask him why we were told that Tom had a year to live when in fact everyone knew that he had far less than 6 months left.  Then…I think I will finally be done working the grief and left to simply ride the waves.