In yet another installment of “Someone signed me up to reenact The Book of Job without my consent”, I am in the midst of my first ever kidney stone experience. I begged Dave to take the kids on a road trip to see his family as planned. We returned from our evening in urgent care at 11pm, Dave went and picked up my prescriptions and some food supplies, then they took off this morning to finish off our Christmas Holiday. There are many reasons, none of which can become public knowledge, that this trip was exceptionally important for them to take — reasons that meant leaving me at home and going was the best and most correct decision. I also refuse to take pain relief medication when I am with my children so I am actually more comfortable alone than I would be had we all stayed home. Still, I feel incredibly sad that I am missing this visit.
I am usually a literal flurry of movement at all times. The forced stillness of this illness, the aching of my kidney and the painfulness of walking, has required me to sit still and just be. There is a pile of laundry that I stopped mid-fold to go to urgent care yesterday, three plates in my sink that are not washed and Twinkle left her bed unmade (Ninja slept in his tent so he wouldn’t have to think about bed making before he got into the car, ever the planner). I have to see these things, but not do anything about it. It feels like immersion therapy, staring at small messes and not allowing them to capture my attention.
Besides being angry with me for skipping the trip our children are still convinced that this has been the best Christmas ever. Somehow through a death in the family, a flurry of bad health news from other family members, my own health crisis and a slew of car and car related money issues the kids had no idea that we were stressed or sad or even tired. I guess I still believe in Christmas miracles after all.