Monday, July 20, 2009

Back to Normal

We're home again after a whirlwind weekend traveling the northeast. A wedding in Connecticut on Saturday allowed us to visit with family and friends and celebrate the nuptuals of my cousin Linda and her husband Keener. What a great time we had. The wedding and reception were at Storrs Connecticut on the campus of the University of Connecticut-UCONN country. It was a great time and we were thrilled to be there. The trip home was a bit of a drag, as we were heading past our house, which was 3.5 hours from the wedding, and continuing on to Hubbardsville to drop Allison at camp. Just outside of our exit (28-Fonda Fultonville) we made a quick stop at the Pattersonville rest stop to ready ourselves for the last 1.5 hour leg of the trip. It was there that my insulin pump became dislodged, and I became unhinged. Both in relation to the other. The pump is attached through a small port which is inserted into my stomach, and pumps insulin continuously. When it is working it is a beautiful thing. I had packed an extra set of works because we were going to be overnight and I wasn't due for a cartridge change until Monday night. We would be back long before then, so I of course figured one extra set would be plenty. Wrong. When the pump became accidently dislodged, I went back to the car and proceeded to reload the pump and insert a new port. When that port went in incorrectly and had to be removed (and cannot be reused-of course) I then proceeded to melt down internally. I knew that bringing one extra set-up was dangerous, because bringing one of anything is dangerous, but especially medical requirements. Sometimes, I get it in my head that I can pack lightly and be spontaneous and free-youthful and unemcumbered. Bad call all around. This was not to be. I now realized that we would have to "swing by" the house so that I could grab another pump set-up (which really, would packing TWO set-ups have set me back so dramatically?) and continue on our way, which was already wearing thin as we had been in in the car for 3.5 hours and were tired. Allison was anxious to get to camp and get started on her week without us, and here we were hammering her with details of our medical inadequacies. It was a sad moment. "Swinging by" our house would really tack on another 15 minutes up the mountain and another 15 minutes down. Not terrible. I was trying to hang onto the fact that it could have been worse, truly. But sometimes looking on the bright side is just so frigging exhausting. At that moment I preferred to wallow in self-pity and aggravation. It just felt better. Jerry's Oscar nomination will be arriving soon, I'm sure, as he was the epitomy of restraint. The thing is, I always know when Jerry is annoyed because he says NOTHING. He may as well rant and rave because it has the same effect on me. He is annoyed and I respond to him in my mind because he is not allowing for verbal discourse by keeping quiet. So the arguments we have are usually in my head with me winning, naturally. That is the beauty of silent arguments. You can end them however you see fit. It works for us. I ran into the house and said a quick hello to the dogs, who were somewhat confused as to my brief appearance and disappearance. Possibly a vision? We didn't take the time to walk or give them any attention as they had been attended to by our friends Dan and Jennie not long before that. I just literally blew in and blew out. They were confused. They will adjust, I'm sure. Or not. Back on the road and back on track. Arriving at camp at 2 PM, we were just in time for Allie to jump into her bathing suit and be in the pool for swimming clearance, where they decide what level of pool rights you will be given according to your abilities. She was cleared for all of it, and we were sent on our way, rather abruptly. I like long lingering good byes that allow for full emotion and embraces. Allison was outta there. My tender hug was met with a blank stare and no response. Aaahh. Motherhood. Back on the road, we headed for the last leg of our trip, which was 1.5 hours in the car. Stopping at Stewart's just before the ride up the hill, we treated ourselves to a huge Butter Pecan ice cream cone because we deserved it. Sugar be damned! Arriving home, I called it a day at 5:30 or so. Technically, I went to watch TV in our room, but realistically, I went to bed. I thought I was better for it this morning, awakening rested and calmer after a whirlwind tour. But ten minutes into my morning I opened the dog food bin and was greeted by a mouse, who was just as surprised as I was to find us looking at each other, and both of us realizing the bin was empty. So yes, we're back to normal. Life here is chaos. I am beginning to realize that life EVERYWHERE is chaos, and we're just living it the best way we can. Hanging on for the ride and finding humor whenever we can. If there is another way, let me know. I'm open to suggestions.

1 comment:

Jim Purdy said...

You said:
"we're back to normal. Life here is chaos. I am beginning to realize that life EVERYWHERE is chaos"

But if life is always chaos, doesn't that make it consistently chaotic ... and isn't consistency the opposite of chaos?

I consider life a daily adventure, and I just try to go with the flow.

Oh, and I do get very silent when I'm unhappy, but I figure that's better than saying something that I'll regret later.

Best wishes to you.