I will admit that the journey we seem to be on is overwhelming. Sometimes it’s not even the big issues that overwhelm. This morning, well, really at all times, I hate Carle billing with a white hot fury. I just spent an hour trying to figure out why patient accounts says I owe one thing and MyCarle says I owe another. Finally I decided to just pay the damned bill but it wouldn’t let me since MyCarle isn’t showing it. Grrr. Something else to do on Monday.
As we shuffle along side by side or even walker by wheelchair, I think about how hard this would be to do alone. Yes, yes, yes, we’re all alone at the end but right now, in the everydayness of it all, Ernie and I aren’t alone, we have each other and we have our families and our family of friends. As people do kind things for us…I keep thinking how fortunate we are. I complain and spit and cry about things here but I keep thinking of all the people that are going through this on their own—without somebody to listen to results or instructions when your head is fuzzy from chemo, without friends who raise money so you can take a leave from work, without the friends that clean your house or help in your yard, without friends who drop off or send special treats.
I keep thinking about all those people.
Picture at top is rare documentation of Bob snuggling with someone other than Ernie.