The Barren has been isolating in our bedroom-bathroom combo since Sunday last week. We are wearing masks indoors and sleeping in them. I am on the opposite side of our 1000 sqft home with the cats and the kitchen and access to the patio. I have been washing my hands so much that the skin between my fingers has cracked open. I have raw spots on the tops of my ears from the straps of the KF94 masks,
Wednesday The Barren started to feel less overwhelmed with Covid symptoms and was in a cheery mood. Then around 7 pm he said he didn't feel well. It slide quickly and extremely into him screaming in agony. He sat in that pain for four hours before I said, that is it we are going to the ER.
We ended up going twice in less than 12 hours. The first was blood, urine and a CT scan. The second was blood and an Ultrasound and more effective non-narcotic drugs.*
If you are keeping score, that is COVID, and 2 ER visits, 1 hour of sleep in 36 hours and no food. When we returned home, the Barren went to sleep and I slowly fed myself and sat outside while the sun began to set and dissociated. So that was one WEEK!
He remains COVID positive and I remain COVID negative. He is quite blue today, which completely makes sense and I am trying hard to keep a stoic face and the mood floating. Suggesting silly conversation topics and encouraging a micro masked walk, which ended in him being winded, but glad for the time outside the house.
I can honestly say I see how it was for him all these years. Witnessing me in pain, from endo and my own gut issues. I feel the same helplessness, and the fear of being too far away in case I am needed at a moments notice. I think it unlocked a new level of our relationship. When I was suffering, I was only really able to view it from my vantage point, seeing how he stood by and supported me with gentle touch and his presence. I am not even able to touch him, I sat outside his room pacing as he was screaming in pain asking quietly, where it hurt and coaching him to breathe. It is was ridiculous.
I rubbed his back in the ER, and sat beside him in the isolation room the second time. I watched how the doctors treated him and advocated where I could. It has been exhausting and I really have nothing left in me. I think my mallet head for my whack-a-mole fell off and rolled down the street. I am too tired to find it. I am feeling broken and sad. I try to think of this as an opportunity to remake the situation. Blossom like a phoenix or some other stupid cliché...but really all that matters is him and his health.
On Wednesday night, just as his pain began I got a text that my dear friend went into surgery to remove her kidney as it had developed a concerning lesion. Thank the goddesses, she made it out without complications. Now she waits for those new organs.
As I sat in the sun this morning sending a text to my mediation teacher that I would be missing class and why, I thanked her for her guidance in teaching me ways to calm my mind in stressful situations, mantras for healing not only myself but anyone who needs healing. She replied a reminder to take it one breathe at a time and that we possess the weapons of patience and peace.
* his diagnosis is an inflamed gall bladder with small stones