Friday, April 6, 2012

Not so Great Expectations

I had an appointment with my phyisical therapist today and we had a conversation about expectations.  This guy, his name is Jim and he's a bit older than I am, but we have similar ideologies and we have some great conversations about pop culture and politics.  He's very good at his job and he's good ABOUT it.  He doesn't make me feel like I'm at a physical therapy appointment.

Anyway, he spoke to me today about expectations and how I should start thinking about when I can transition to an outpatient facility as I become more independent.  I meet his request with my normal "yeah."  When he pressed and asked for a specific answer..  I froze.  Expectations.

Expectations.

That word has been swirling around my head for months.  What everything is expecting of me.  What I'm expecting of everyone.  What my expectations are for ALL this.  What I wanted to tell Jim when he asked me was, "I EXPECTED this to be completely finished by my 1 year anniversary...  But here we are almost 2 months later and I can barely take care of myself as various ailments have taken grip upon me.  How can gauge my expectations when I don't know what's around the next corner?  The only expectation I have is to wake up in the morning and meet the challenges of that day.  I can't plan the future because it's not guaranteed.  Not anymore.  Not for me.

Boy, that sure sounds depressing.  And now that I'm being completely honest, I'm spiraling down pretty quick. I think with my own psyche completely out of whack with all that's happening and with the amount of Prednisone I'm taking on a daily basis, my mind is a slurry of emotions just waiting to bubble over.  I've met various situations with unwarranted tears, inapprorpriate anger, awkward laughter.  I've been having dreams that I would be embarrassed to describe to a psychiatrist.  My daydreams involve my own demise (not at my own hand).

I don't know where my mind is going, but it's going there without my permission and it's put the pedal to the metal so to say.  The worst is that Anita is getting the brunt of this.  I've always been an little off kilter with my emotions since she's known be but now, oh man, now she's just sitting at ground zero.  I feel SO MUCH STRESS.  I feel SO MUCH DISAPPOINTMENT.  I feel SO MUCH right now.  I'm just a ticking time bomb and I don't know how to diffuse myself.  Do I complement my drug box with some Xanax?  Is that really the answer?  MORE pills?  Aren't the number of pills I'm taking partially to blame for this mess in the first place?

I'm having trouble sorting all these things out.  And as much as I wish I could focus 100% of my attention on this, I feel like I've got 1000 other things that need a good amount of attention as well.  I need to get the eff out of dodge.  Seriously.  I need to grab my beautiful and as understanding as she can be wife by the hand and just get out for a weekend and sit down in a town that isn't ours and unwind.  I need to not worry about our finances.  Not worry about how much money is gone from our FSA account already.  Not worry about when the next Photoferesis appointment is.  I need to break life back down to its essential elements.  Me, her.  Right now, that's all I need to survive.  Let me focus on THAT and make that happen.  Then I can come back and start worrying about expectations.

Fucking Myelofibrosis.

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