and my teeth are chattering
getting packed, ready
We're leaving on Sunday. My husband has spent all day on the phone with the airline, the hotel, the medical supply companies, the milk bank, the hospital, and more. I have spent all day wandering around in a kind of fog, trying not to be too freaked out. We're going to have at least 6 carry-on bags and all of them will violate a TSA rule of some sort. We have doctor's letters that should help us get through security, and we've notified the airline, but it still makes me nervous.
As you can see, I've been extraordinarily helpful.
But if I can sit on the couch and fuss over Ike-a-saurus, rather than shouting things at my husband while he's on the phone, then maybe that's helpful, right?
One thing I've done, though, that's helped a lot, is to test out the Xanax.
Oh yes, you laugh, But I'm serious. I've never taken it before, and I tend to not do well with tranquilizing type drugs. I have this superpower to fight them. So that even Ambien and Stadol (not at the same time, yikes) can't even fully knock me out. They make me loopy and nauseous. And they make me feel like I'm drowning and/or suffocating and/or falling from a really tall building. But they don't make me very restful.
So I was hopeful, but skeptical when I got my prescription for Xanax. I broke one in half and tested it out the other night. Much to my delight, it didn't seem to do much at all. I felt vaguely drowsy, I stared at my pants for like ten minutes, I realized I had been staring at my pants for ten minutes, and then I went to bed. I woke up precisely four hours later, then fell back to sleep. The next day I was the most rested I have been in months.
I'm not sure if there will be a time during the trip when I can allow myself to sleep, but at least now I know if I really start to lose my shit, I have a plan.
I am going to try really hard not to lose my shit, though. My husband has been shouldering too much of the burden lately, while I wallow in a self-imposed aloneness. I need to snap out of that and help more. Sitting around, wringing my hands, and working myself into a frenzied rat king state of "what-ifs" is not healthy and I need to quit it.
There's just so much riding on this trip. Yet that seems secondary to the worry I have for Ike-a-saurus going through all of these procedures so many days in a row. Three mornings of fasting, two mornings of being anesthetized. Plus, scopes and scans and images and biopsies and something called a "lung wash" that sounds unpleasant to say the least (at least he'll be asleep for that). So many strangers messing with him, and even though my husband and I will be right there with him to comfort him, it physically hurts me to know that he will hurt. He will be scared. He won't understand what's going on.
See there? I'm doing it again… working myself into a rat king frenzy. No Xanax tonight, though. Just some Advil and laundry. Talk about a sedative effect.