You Gotta Be
One of the things that particularly struck me during Jim's 'loose screws' removal surgery yet again is about love and loving actions. I've ranted about this before at No Longer Quivering, so I'm putting this here rather than endlessly repeat myself here.
Last week was a shit show for me. The throwing up, the medicines, the endless trips to the clinic for more meds and IV treatment, the utter exhaustion, the laying on the floor crying (twice!) because I needed to eat to take the meds to not throw up but the smell of cooking was making me throw up. I was pretty much freaking out over the idea of having to drive to San Jose, five hours away, while feeling like dying was a vast improvement. Not good times for anyone!
Why was I under stupid super stress mode? Because I wanted to be there for Jim when he had his surgery. I was willing to sleep on that janky hard sprung leatherette sofa to make sure he had everything he needed and round the clock care. Right down to the wire of us leaving I was unsure I could make the trip, or that my fever would have dropped low enough to make it in the door of the hospital. I was sweating this because I am a firm believer that sitting next to the bed of your spouse during medical crises is part of what you signed up for when you said 'I do'
I keep thinking about lazy Lori Alexander, making claims that she could not handle the stress of being by Ken's bedside last year when he had a terrible bout of lyme disease. She kept claiming that she could not do it because 'brain tumor' and 'stress'. Sweetheart, If I can drag my sweating, feverish, vomiting old carcass off the floor and do it anyone can! I ain't special! I'm average at best.
This just breaks my heart for her poor husband Ken. I don't much like him, but no one deserves that type of treatment while ill. Imagine what Lori would be saying if roles were reversed and Ken couldn't show because of 'stress'. Ken, you deserve at the bare minimum in a marriage a partner that will be there when you have one foot on the banana peel and the other on the tombstone. To not show up, to ignore a serious healthcrisis in your spouse is just a cruelty on so many differing levels.
I kept thinking about the roles of love on the way down, and the way back here even while dealing with a serious insurance snafu, and the new unpleasant realities of hospitalization during a worldwide COVID crisis. From not being able to get a towel due to inventory lockdowns and thievery meaning I toweled off with paper towels after a shower, to someone somewhere transposing numbers on the dates on the insurance forms, to having to figure out how to use UberEats in another language and being forced by the hospital to eat my meals sitting on the street. It was an adventure and a challenge, but one I willingly undertook because of love. Just as it should be.
Sometimes love is sacrificial, and if you don't believe that try drying off from the shower with paper towels or inhaling a greasy burger while sitting on a crumbling wall street side while inhaling city traffic fumes. San Jose being under high COVID rate lockdown brought these challenges, right down to a skeleton crew in the hospital. Thank God I went! Jim would not have had anyone to help him from the bed to go pee at 4 am had I not thrown caution and sickness to the wind to go!
Radio Dos played an old song several times on the drive down to the hospital and back. I kept listening, and thinking how deeply prophetic the song was, and how to spoke to the different hats we wear as women and our ever shifting roles. The song is "You Gotta Be"
Keep being everything you need to be in your life, dear friends, be the hero you need for yourself and for others, and reject the utter selfishness that the Loris of this world seem determined to be. Sometimes you gotta be strong no matter how weak you feel.
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