Stress Relief

This week I felt overwhelmed by everything:  Meetings at work, presentations, taking my sweet mom to visit a retirement community, taking Lacy to a doctor's appointment.  By Friday I dreaded going to Walmart; today I dreaded participating in a community project with our Sunday School class; this evening I am dreading the thought of getting up and going to church.  That sense of dread has made me tired and now I have a headache.

This week I am overwhelmed with the thought of what our son is going through, and what we are facing. It doesn't do to dwell in that place where the present is painful and the future is bleak.  But this week, I am there.  I will have to ride this wave of exhaustion to its conclusion.  I will have to let God deliver me from this place.

When I feel this way, I know it is temporary, and that I will feel better soon.  It is natural, I think, to feel this sense of dread and sometimes to succumb to the hurtful realities of dealing with a cruel disease like Huntington's.  So many people have gone before me down this road, so many have managed to live life to the fullest while doing so.  Most days I feel happy, often joyful.

I find that sometimes the best medicine is to get my mind off myself.  Working with our Sunday School class this morning was relaxing and meaningful.  Kenny and I went out to dinner tonight and enjoyed a great meal at local mexican restaurant.  I am feeling some better.  I have a funny movie sitting next to my television.  This might be a good night to watch it.  Eventually I will be able to let go of this burden.  Sometimes it requires praying through.  Sometimes it also requires a funny movie and popcorn.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suddenly...It's Spring

Spring comes without warning, it seems.  Suddenly everything is green, flowers are blooming, and the world is waking up.  New life is everywhere.  Robins are hopping around our backyard, some are building nests in nearby trees and shrubs.  There is an expectancy in the air. The cycle of grief is a recursive one.  Back and forth it seems to go for months on end.  Great sadness, numbness, depression, exhaustion; until one day a memory comes and it is not painful but poignant.  Rather than a tear falling, a smile comes and with it a hint of joy and a lightness of spirit. Ten months have passed since we lost our Lacy.  We made it through some big firsts; birthday, Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas.  The anniversary date of his home-going is not far away. In these ten months, Kenny and I have begun to find our way into new patterns and traditions. Sunday afternoons have become a time for visiting friends, enjoying walks, or just relaxing...
Read more

Countdown

Four weeks from today will be two years since we lost Lacy. I keep getting reminders on my Facebook feed of the last few weeks of Lacy's life.  The last year, I took a picture of him every week.  I wanted to make sure I could remember him, and the good - and bad - times we had together. I feel a sense of dread about May 28.  I am thankful that it falls on Memorial Day, so we will not have to go to work.  I am also thankful that we took every opportunity to spend time with him.  The last time was 5pm on May 27, 2016.  Nine hours later, he was gone. As I drove away from the nursing home that evening, a scripture popped into my head:  ...that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection... (Philippians 3:10) That power has sustained us for nearly two years.
Read more

Day by Day

Alan is doing better since his hospitalization.  His outbursts are fewer, and are less "pitched" than before his med changes.  The staff assigned to him at his group home are doing well with him.  They have to pick their battles, as we all do, and are trying to keep him to a schedule. We took Alan to his neurology appointment this week.  Usually when someone asks Alan how he is doing, he just says "fine," but on this day he answered, "My knees are weak, and I have to lean over and hold on to things." After examination, Alan's doctor recommended physical therapy, as Alan is perilously close to falling.  While we don't know if Alan will be able to follow a therapists directions, or will even want to cooperate, we will arrange for a consultation. I can deal with the nuts and bolts of being an advocate and sometimes caregiver for my son, but I find it hard to maintain the focus I need when I hear his say that he is having trouble walking.  It is ...
Read more