Sunday, October 24, 2010

How We Are Doing

So many people have been asking how we're doing. It's completely uncharacteristic, but I really have a hard time coming up with an answer.

We're managing. We're surviving. We're working very hard to take things day by day.

It's so tricky, because we're fully aware that this is NOT a disaster. It's a nuisance. But it's a significant nuisance in our world because we didn't start off as a normal family. We were already a family with a chronic illness - and now the one able-bodied adult in our household is more injured than I am. This impacts us in so many ways, right down to the mundane fact that the person who usually runs stairs for me when I forget something downstairs is not only not running stairs for me anymore, but he's also forced to ask me to run them for him.

Geoff's doing really well, and is starting to be a little bit more mobile in terms of getting up and down the stairs, etc - but he hasn't left the house since the hospital and I don't anticipate that changing anytime soon. He's off T3s but still needing very regular painkillers - and, of course, the brace that is quickly becoming an extra (super annoying) family member.

It has been an absolute godsend to have Libby here. She's taken on so much of the day to day care of Briony and so many details that keep our household running. I can't even tell you how it makes a difference in my day to wake up and find the dishwasher has already been cleaned out. And don't underestimate the value of Briony Duty... Our normally very easygoing toddler has been replaced with one who's easily upset, quite insecure, and downright terrible at bedtime (Libby's been up there with her for well over an hour already trying to get her to settle down... and we're talking about a kid who - DON'T HATE ME - can virtually always just be tossed into her crib and happily left for 13 or 14 hours). We're all being very patient with her because we understand how her world has been turned around this week, but it's capital-letters TOUGH.

On Day Eight of this fiasco, the adrenaline of the crisis is wearing off, and what's left in its place is exhaustion and pain (with a side of panic when I think that we've got another six weeks of this to go before life will even *begin* to resemble anything normal). I've been working very hard to schedule Lindsay Time and I'm taking lots of breaks so that I'm doing as well as I possibly can be when we need to say goodbye to Libby at the end of this week - but I have to question how those brief absences are impacting my insecure baby girl at home. See what I mean? TOUGH.

This week, I need to start to work more again, and it's making me want to cry to even imagine how to find the space in my life and in my head to manage that.

One day at a time... And there are bright spots in every single one of them. Watching Briony toddling around the house after Libby - her new favourite person in the world - and hearing them giggling upstairs until Briony is hysterical is so awesome. Awesome enough that it actually makes some of this drama and craziness seem worth it.


Some evidence that Geoff is alive and well. This was in the hospital before his surgery.

Briony thinks it's hilarious to pretend her foot is a phone.

Chillin' on the couch waaaay after Briony's bedtime. SIGH.

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At October 25, 2010 11:09 AM, Anonymous Marilyn said...

Thanks for the photos. Glad you are all functioning even if on fewer cylinders.


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