Life occasionally has a way of suddenly grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and shaking you like a puppy shakes a toy. Everything is going along just swimmingly and then stuff happens that makes you aware once again how little control you have over what happens, or is meant to be.
Things were going along right on track for me. I was doing my cleaning/organizing/de-cluttering thing. I was due to return to flying after my vacation and was just getting errands done and working on those pesky little projects one never gets to. In a previous post, I talked about how freakin’ miserable 2013 was for me as well as for quite a few of my friends:
Unfortunately for me, 2013’s curse has bled into this year as well.
February 6th rocked my world when I had to perform CPR on a friend while visiting him the day after he got out of the hospital. I managed to keep Kent going until the paramedics arrived and took over. The emergency room managed to get his heart started again and he was put on a ventilator. He lived another 48 hours until complications finally took him. Took a week to get my back, shoulders, triceps and abdomen to stop hurting from doing chest compressions by myself for about six minutes until the paramedics arrived. Took me a couple of weeks to get over the shock and stress of the incident.
And by the way, if you don’t know CPR, learn it. You can start here:
Unfortunately, this “Curse of 2013” thing reared up again when my big brother died late Wednesday evening. We were close and he was my best friend for decades. Naturally, I am depressed about this and really don’t want to go into details about the entire situation, but chronicling the events of the last 20 years regarding my brother, his family and the entire mess would read like something out of a script for a bad reality TV show combined with a soap opera.
I couldn’t possibly write the script or make it up. Suffice it to say, it was like a bad traffic accident in slow motion and I chose to hide my eyes. I didn’t cause it, couldn’t control it and couldn’t cure it. So I stepped away from it.
I found it distasteful, disrespectful and undignified. So I just never discussed it. I’ve always been a little short in the human family department as we were never really prolific when it came to bringing children into the world. As it now stands, I’m pretty much down to 1 cousin.
I’m holding my own with caring for my three Greys, so not to worry about that. I’m just not real happy at the moment as you can imagine. My flock senses it and get upset every time I get on the phone. I guess they sense the sound of stress in my voice when I’m talking. So I’ve tried to be conscious of this and I’m trying to modulate it when I’m having a conversation. This isn’t easy as I’ve had to make some pretty hairy phone calls.
I’ll be okay. I have to. We all have to deal with stuff like this. What choice do we have when we’re up against the crap life throws at us? We all go on. And I will go on, too. Just as soon as I get out from the mental state not unlike being in a pre-natal position and under an electric blanket that’s turned up to 9.
All I know is that while it may be true that, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” it sure as hell is hard to go through. But I think that this “having to be strong” jazz is sometimes highly overrated. Because it’s tough. Really tough.
I guess that’s where time enters the picture. It helps. It heals. It gives you perspective. So if there is any reason at all to look forward to the future, it’s knowing that eventually, I’ll feel better. In the meantime, well, just getting through the day is a big job at the moment. But my Greys and I will be okay. It will just take some time.