What happens when the evolving train wreck you have been watching turns out to be the one you are riding on?

Last Tuesday was typical of our chaotic existence. My adult son had just left to go home after coming in for a few days to visit. As most mothers do, I shed a few tears as he drove off. Then the dam burst and I began to sob, missing him terribly. Our 17 year old cat had been peeing blood over the weekend and we needed to take her to the vet as a walk in. Doug left work to take her as I had to wait for the furnace service guy to come and give us an estimate to re-insulate our heating ducts. I had planned on going into work for a few hours, but by the time I settled the cat back into the house, taken the dogs out, mostly recovered from my bout of missing my son, and finally gotten a return call from UNC hospitals about a mix up in my next two appointments, it was just about the end of the day and I just wasn’t feeling up to it. Though I really had been staying pretty calm in the midst of what was all going on with us these last months, that evening the straw finally broke the camel’s back. Several months ago I splurged and bought myself an iPhone. It become my best friend as it allowed me to check email, facebook, read news and books and I was addicted to a certain solitaire game. Because I had a history of accidents, usually involving water, with previous cell phones, I had been extra careful with this one. I use a waterproof container when I am at the dock, and since I use it to entertain myself when I am seated for a long period of time, have taken to keeping the toilet seat cover down so an accidental dropping won’t turn into a disaster. Well, between the time I lifted the seat cover and prepared to sit myself down, my precious cell phone leaped out of my hands and directly into the toilet. Shouting one of the terms for what I was planning to actually drop into the toilet, I made quick to fish it out, removed it from its cover and did the best to clean the outside hoping that it might still work. I continued shout words of frustration as I stormed into the kitchen to, thanks to some recent posts by friends on facebook, place the phone into a bag of uncooked rice. Later on my husband comes into the bedroom holding my little dog Mattie, who was nearly catatonic from the emotional upset that had permeated our usually calm house. After apologizing profusely and telling her that I was not angry at her, I hugged her and let her cuddle up on my lap as I lay in bed, my phone hopefully drying out in the rice. I was somewhat aware of an impending train wreck, but at the moment thought I was safely on the station platform hoping for a near miss.

Just as we were ready to turn off the lights and go to sleep Doug remembered that he had forgotten to go to my daughter’s apartment to feed her cats as she was away for the week. He got back around 45 minutes later and we finally fell asleep. Usually Doug gets up before 6 am and takes the dogs out and feeds everyone. However, when our oldest dog came to my side of the bed whining, I realized it was after 7 am and Doug was still sound asleep. Knowing that she doesn’t usually make demands and won’t wet inside even if she is desperate to go, I got up and took her out. When I got back Doug was up and about ready to take the other two out and feed everyone. I was sitting on the couch trying to get a piece of rice that had wedged itself inside the docking port of my iPhone and hoping that there was no permanent damage to my precious. All of the sudden Doug begins to curse and tells he me thinks he accidently gave little 12lb Rosie 50lb Trooper’s medicine. Both dogs are on thyroid medicine, Rosie .1 mg and Trooper .5 mg. We usually give them their medicines in order, Trooper first, with a dollop of butter. Since it had become so routine, we don’t normally have to think too hard and this time his hand went to Rosie first instead of Trooper. We both got upset and I tried to call the vet but they were not open yet. I called the number I have always had programmed into my phones for poison control but I got some odd recording telling me to press 1 and a text will be sent to me with some information about this phone number. I was getting frustrated and when the text came it stated that there will be a $9.95 charge for the service. I was about to scream. That was when I realized both Doug and I were not only on the front seat of the train as it barreled towards something solid and inflexible, we were the train wreck.

How much stress can two people take? When Doug’s mother passed away early last year after slowly fading away from Alzheimer’s, we thought we’d have a reprieve from stress for a while. Though he visits to her several times a week had fit nicely into our other routines, the last few months he was going every day and near the end twice every day to coax a few spoons full of food into her. Starting that summer we were under the rising cloud of possible layoffs at his place of employment. We had hoped to purchase a new car and I wanted to do some needed remodeling and repair work on the house. That was put off until we were more sure that his job wouldn’t be cut. In November we rescued a little pregnant and starving dog from the shelter and spent a lot of time and money getting her well, which, though stressful, was also very rewarding. By February the job situation had still not resolved and Doug was commuting an extra 20 minutes each way to a satellite office to work on a temporary project until a new contract could be signed that might include work for him at his original office. His new job also involved travel and he was scheduled to go to Virginia for a few days. Four days before he was to leave for that trip he woke up with a pounding in his chest and an elevated heart rate. A scary trip to the ER revealed he had gone into Atrial Fibrillation and he was now a heart patient. The local cardiologist we saw seemed more than emept and we went for a consult at UNC and was referred to a cardiologist in New Bern, only an hour away as opposed to the 2 ½ hours to UNC. He was placed on a blood thinner and was getting his blood tested every three days as his level continued to go up and down like a yo-yo. As we were adjusting to this new phase on our lives, Sarah’s 1988 Volvo and our 1993 Toyota van began to fail and we now needed two cars instead of one. We found two used cars, a 2007 Prius and a 2006 Honda for what we might have spent on a new car. I gave Sarah my old car, which was only 10 years old and still running OK at 175,000 miles. Doug spent a week in 29 Palms, California for work and was scheduled for a cardioversion to shock his heart back into rhythm when he returned. All went well with the procedure and we thought we might be in for some smooth sailing after that. Four days later, as we were just finishing up our Passover Seder with just the three of us, Doug had a stroke. Though we didn’t dodge the entire bullet, we were spared the worst of it as his stroke, though not small, only affected his speech and some sensations on his right side. He was granted short term disability at 60% of his usual pay and three months family medical leave. With a lot of hard work he made steady progress and by the middle of June was able to return to work full time, and once again we thought we were back on course for our sail. As you know, that was not to be, as by the beginning of July I had learned that my cancer had returned and by the middle of July that it had metastasized to my bones. Between repeated trips to Chapel Hill, painful tests, problems with the new medications and bouts of pain in my arm and ribs, we were dancing a fine line of sanity. But we continued to feel blessed with having each other, a lovely place to live, wonderful children and family, our beloved pets around us, and a positive attitude. What we forgot to recognize was that we were not immune to stress and ours was growing daily. Though minor, the episodes last night and this morning were warnings and we had to acknowledge that and figure out how to deal with it. Unfortunately, we are stumped. My illness is not going away, and though a very long way from where the stroke originally left him, Doug still has some speech issues and is still struggling to keep the level of blood thinner in the correct range. His temporary position is nearing its end and as of yet he has not heard if any extensions of the contract will be signed. Our older pets are showing signs of age, as is the house. I haven’t been down to see my mother since the month before Doug’s stroke and our frequent trips to Chapel Hill has depleted his already low paid time off at work. In other words, the train is speeding up and we don’t know if there are any seat belts of other protection aboard.

I have been reluctant to post this type of blog as I was afraid it would sound whiney and self pitying. However, in talking to my boss, who is also a licensed family therapist, and a good friend, she assured me that if she were in my position, not only would she offer blanket invitations to everyone she knows to attend her pity party, but it would be a command performance. So after getting that validation, I may be inclined to post a few more discourses in my blog that are less than stoic and humorous.