Yesterday afternoon it was like the clouds lifted, and so did the pain (well… mostly). All of a sudden I looked around and thought, “I don’t hurt as badly and I can almost walk.” Today was the same. Sometime in there my mood lifted as well and it was like I was infused with hope and the spring came back into my step. It concerns me a bit that this little low was so low, but throwing intense pain into an already difficult situation could potentially lead to such a low perhaps?
Incidentally, I went to the doctor again today–my PCM (my assigned doctor). It was the first time I’d seen him and much to my delight and suprise I found that he is FABULOUS. I left feeling like I’d been seen by someone who knew what he was talking about, and while I came out with no other real tools or game plan than an understanding of what my problem was, and how to begin to take measures to heal and avoid it in the future, I felt entirely different than I have from other encounters at our hospital. So now there are TWO doctors that I like and trust there. It feels like I’ve struck gold.
It’s kind of a grief-y thought I guess, but… I feel like the clouds are lifting in a lot of my life. When it comes to dealing with my Mom’s death I am in NO WAY ‘over it’ and the pain can still hurt like hell. Indeed I can still have a day or days or even a week or two of feeling like I’ve once again been hit by the, “My Mom died truck.” But… *I* am starting to feel alive again. I am starting to revel in joy and feel it as more than a fleeting thing. I am starting to relish little things again (my daughters’ smiles and giggles, cheesecake, sunshine, endorphins, refreshing conversations, new insights). It’s not just a lifting of the grief, it’s also a re-ordering of life that I’m doing a little here and a little there. In some ways I feel like I’m learning to be me and to be ok in that for the first time ever, and I don’t think any of that could have come without the chapter of grief that I’ve walked through. I’m NOT Pollyannaing. I still say I’d rather have Mom here and be a shallow idiot.
Truly, this lift isn’t all about Mom or my departure from constantly actively mourning. Part of it is learning how to be me and learning how to be healthy. I just enjoy lifting my head and not feeling it drug down again by reminders of the grief. The loss is still there and still painful and I will always grieve. But finally life feels lighter.
And now for just a few deploymenty thoughts: I’ve been reading the fabulously supportive comments and loving them. I thank you all so very much for them. But I read them sometimes and feel immeasurably supported, but also think, “Dude, I wonder if I’m coming across like I’m a total rookie!” So just for some background for those who might not know me in person, it’s true, I’m no ‘salty’ Sailor’s wife… but I am starting to get my ‘sea legs.’ We’ve been doing the Navy thing for over 3 and a half years now. This is our second deployment–it’s actually a mini-deployment shoved in between two ‘regular’ ones. In some ways it feels new because, believe it or not, it’s ‘just a deployment.’ It’s not a deployment on top of well… a hellishly awful loss (or three).
My first deployment happened to coincide with what I cheerfully refer to as, “The worst six months of my life.” I’d been at my parents’ home because of Mom’s illness during my husband’s last few work-ups before the first deployment. During his very last detachment, my Mom went through the last leg of her battle with Lung Cancer. After a whirlwind month of funeral, cross-country trips, and an unexpected, and wonderful but bittersweet under-the-circumstances final month together, husband left. I lived with my Dad during that deployment thinking he might need the support, and tried to wrap my head around the fact that my life now looked incredibly different with my Mom gone, a 5 month old baby, a deployed husband, and a life-landscape that seemed to continue to change faster than the speed of light. We didn’t have a lot of your ‘typical’ gremlins that deployment but I happen to believe that has something to do with the fact our family seemed to be besieged by illness and death for that particular year and the universe decided to ‘lay off’ on the smalerishl stuff. It wasn’t easy. It was awful. But it was awful in a scope different than a ‘normal Navy deployment.’
Incidentally, before that we handled the Basic Training separation–also tricky because it occurred so early in our marriage. Nothing like saying goodbye to your sweetie a few short months after the wedding. Then I was undeniably a ‘rookie.’ I look back at some of the things I ‘woe-is-me’d’ and stressed over, and I shake my head and turn all red with embarassment
So, despite what may be coming across here, I don’t feel quite so buffeted and befuddled by this as the previous separations. In fact, most days I am slightly troubled by the immense sense of numbness leaving me to feel a bizarre sense of ‘well-being.’ However, just because this is my second time doing this doesn’t mean I don’t still have raw emotions to express about it from time to time. And, well, so… I do express them (you know… in the name of, ‘it’s my blog and I can cry if I want to.’)!
And with that, it’s time to do a final tidy of the living room (involving absolutly no bending at the waste, and only, only, only bending my knees to pick things up off the ground. ;)), write Husband a letter, and go to sleep.