My Sexy Diagnosis

So for those of you who have asked, I have NOT been diagnosed with Bladder Cancer. Thank God. I have been diagnosed with a really ugly sounding disease, that really has no ugly effects. Thin Basement Membrane disease. Sexy huh? Considering  my grandmother had kidney disease and my dad had testicle cancer, I will gladly take this one!

Apologies to June Cleaver

I was taking a bath this morning. The house was empty. I sat there and soaked until the water became cold. I don’t know if I even got around to washing anything, I was too lost in the sublime peace of warm water and being surrounded by quiet.

It wasn’t always this way. I was a single mom of three boys for quite some time (hell, even when I was married I felt like a single mom) My parenting style is probably a little unorthodox. I am a weird balance of free spirit and staunch rule follower. As my then 18 year old son said as I flushed his weed down the toilet,” You have everyone fooled. They think you’re a cool  hippy mom but you’re not. You’re a dictator!” I just smiled and went back to reading my tarot cards.

I wasn’t always that calm. There was one particular incident that I remember that may have scarred them for life.  After a demanding day at a job I hated, I stopped at the convienience store for cat food, came home, changed clothes, made dinner, took  them to their various extra curricular activities , listened to them fight over who’s turn it was to get the front seat, picked them all back up and endured the whining as I told them for the 18th time that we were not stopping at Mc Donald’s for late night cheeseburgers.

By this time, all I wanted was a hot bath and 20 minutes to myself. I told them this and headed to my sanctuary. Not 30 seconds after I had turned off the water immersed myself into the steaming hot bath, did the door knock. “Mom, blah, blah blah blah?”  I have no idea what the question was but I explained that I would be out in few minutes and politely asked them to leave me alone until then. The interruptions kept coming, I kept telling them to go away, the frustration level showing more and more in my voice with each response. Then I hear it. The tumbling, the yelling, the dog barking, the fighting. Three boys between the ages of 7 and 11 going at it.  So I did what I’m sure June Cleaver would have done. I flung open the door with the dramatic flair of a thespian queen. The operatic sound of my scream startled them all to stop what they were doing and despite seeing the horror on their faces, I stood there completely naked, covered in bubbles from head to toe with black mascara running down my face and said ” Is this what you wanted? Was this the game along? Well, you win! Here I am in all my naked glory, losing my mind! Do you feel better now?”

Funny, my baths were rarely interrupted after that…

Burdens

Boy am I fighting it today. It seems like more days than not I am struggling with this demon. Depression, a battle I’ve been fighting most of my life. I guess in reality, I’m not “fighting” it today at all. I took my pills and a shower, that’s about it. I’m too tired to get dressed. Too weighed down to do anything but lay around. All I want to do is sleep, but I know I won’t be able too, besides I know it won’t do any good.

I’m sure the stress is adding to it. I’ve got a lot to do. A lot that should be on my mind, but in rebellion, my mind just seems to shut down. Restaurant opening in two days. I’ve only heard from my partner once in two weeks.License’s need renewed. Taxes need paid. Checks need to be covered. My CAT scan shows no stones, which means they are going to have to do some evasive tests. I hate that they keep saying bladder cancer. I’m afraid my oldest son is drinking way too much. He lost his apt and is moving back here. My middle son just discovered his pregnant wife was cheating on him…again, and yet had to let her stay or watch her move miles away with our granddaughter and unborn child. My youngest child is lost and I’m afraid he won’t find his way. Rent is due and there is no money there. I have friends who are calling in their loans and I have nothing to give them but promises.

Thank God I have Troy, who is keeping me sane (relatively) and promising me that we are going to get through all this. I wish my physical reaction to all this was to fight and fight hard but for some reason my fucking body just shuts down. Troy shouldn’t have to carry me or take on responsibilities that aren’t his. I feel like an added burden to his life. Praying tomorrow is a better day.