I am sitting in the waiting room of the Cardiovascular Lab while the spouse has a heart cath. I got to go in and see him long enough to make the sign of the cross on his forehead and kiss him. My legs almost buckled under me, standing by his gurney. More than likely this not a big deal at all. Just an extra precaution after unclear results related to the preop testing from last month. I know how to be strong. I know my privilege. Our house here is under such a great contract, with. Really great backup contract just in case. Early, early today, before heading this way, Sherod and I signed an interminable document because it’s closing day for the house in Alabama.
I know how to be strong, and I know my blessings. And my daughter is incredibly frail right now, my husband is in the hands of doctors doing an invasive procedure on his heart, tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mother’s death and on Sunday I have to say good bye to my beloved community. So though my legs did not buckle and in a bit I will go back to being strong, right this minute, right now I am falling apart.
Sherod got a stent and will spend the night I. The hospital. He is resting comfortably and I’m still flying. Sort of.