A couple of weekends ago, I went to see Dad Shorts play at a bar in a town about 25-30 minutes away from where I live. I was dead set on going because I hadn’t missed one of their gigs and I wasn’t ready for this one to be the first. In order for me to do that, I needed to make sure I had my dad squared away.
As I’ve mentioned before, my dad has been having some health problems, namely lung cancer, COPD, and congestive heart failure. The lung cancer is under control. He’s finished his chemo and is on immunotherapy for maintenance. His COPD is controlled with medication and environmental manipulation. His congestive heart failure became an issue over the summer, but adjustments to his meds have it back under control. I’ve been his primary caregiver since this started, so I’ve gotten used to configuring my life around his health needs.
So, in my mind, if I was going to go to the Dad Shorts gig, I was going to need to get a sitter.
Okay, not a literal sitter. But, I wanted to make sure one of my neighbors or friends would be in town in case something happened. If he needed someone, I wanted him to be able to get a hold of someone who could get over to him in five or ten minutes rather than 25 or 30.
I explained this to my father and he instantly bristled at the idea. He then proceeded to point out that he hadn’t been having issues with his breathing lately. He’s been getting around better, not even using his cane in the house. My rebuttal was pointing out his penchant for doing yard work when I wasn’t home and how he’d fallen twice doing that. He understood my point about having someone closer by just in case and agreed not to do yard work while I was gone and agreed to take his cane, emergency inhaler, and phone with him if he did go outside for any reason. Just in case.
He also had a point, even if he didn’t directly articulate it.
It’s been a year as of the beginning of this month that my dad’s health problems began. It’s been a roller coaster of bad, badder, better, but I’m still acting like he’s at his worst. I’m still anticipating the shit to hit the fan at any moment. Going to this gig made me realize that even though I know things are grooving along pretty well, I’m still living in the moment of 3am wake ups for 911 calls, of ER visits and hospitalizations, of endless problem solving for pain and breathing problems. Things are better, but I haven’t stopped being ready.
I’ve said before that I didn’t think I’d fully processed everything that had been happening in my world since October 1st of 2024 and that weekend really slapped me in the face with it. I’ve been wading in the trauma for so long that I don’t even realize my shoes are wet anymore. It’s become my normal.
It’s not a good normal.
There’s nothing wrong with being prepared and being cautious, but being in a constant red alert is no way to live.
Think I better get around to processing and find a way to unclinch.
We both deserve better than this stress.
Kiki Writes About... 