Search This Blog

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Oh, Piphyl!

Today, I shall take the time to feel sorry for myself. Everyone is entitled now and then, and frankly, I'm quite overdue. I've been ill with this or that since early May and haven't had the time to deal with it, other than to get stronger medications for known ailments which it was presumed at the time to be related to. However, on the last visit, it was discovered that I have suddenly become severely iron deficient, which is usually a very bad thing. Since I see the doctor to whom I have been referred for this tomorrow, tonight is the very best time for me to feel sorry for myself, if I am going to at all.
I recently heard a speaker who was talking about a man who, as a boy, was the "man of the house" while his own mother was sick in bed with some undisclosed but rather severe illness. The people who should have been there for the mother never even called to ask where she had been lately, while a group of strangers who happened to discover the family's plight came by and helped out every day until the mother was well and could resume her full duties as the mother and head of the household. I was impressed. I would never wish for, expect, or even want that amount of assistance. However, I would like more than a "live long and prosper" now and then from those to whom I supposedly matter.

Many years ago, my daughter had a major surgery which kept her home and in bed for six weeks. Her church friends called several times, came by a few times, and sent a number of cards. Her school friends - at least those in the choir - sent a poster everyone signed. I got time enough off of work for her surgery and to come home to relieve the person staying with her while the visiting teacher was there each day, along with enough bills almost to bankrupt us.

Some time later, my husband had a series of hospitalizations, including for a serious injury which by rights should have killed him. One group of friends brought us a meal. His coworkers sent some snacks a couple of times. From my work, I got a phone call, asking whether they should hire a temoporary until I returned. From the hospital, we got more bills.

My company, at least the local office, likes to refer to itself as a "family". The personnel often has fundraisers for this person or that one, or little parties for someone having a baby or whatever, with approval from upper management. One fundraiser, just after I returned to work after my hsuband's injury, was for the adult son of an employee, who had injured himself on a motorcycle without a helmet and without insurance. We were still recovering from the financial impact of my husband's injury at the time. How do you explain to well meaning but clueless people that you cannot contribute to their office fundraiser, because you really need one of your own?

So now it is my turn. I most likely have something rather mundane and relatively simple to deal with, like an ulcer or gallstones. However, since I overthink things so well, I am now well-versed in the many conditions I could have, most of which are life-threatening, and none of which quite seem to fit my symptoms. Could I have more than one problem at the same time? I lost a very dear friend who thought she needed her to have appendix out and found out instead that she had pancreatic cancer.

It's rather difficult to live a quality life to age 120, as I fully intend to do, if your internal organs all turn to mush before you get even halfway there. At least I know that should something happen to me, my husband will be well provided for; unless of course, any illness were to be long, protracted, and expensive. Whoever thought I'd find myself hoping for an ulcer?