One Word for 2016

Hi.

I am astonished to find that it has been three weeks since I last wrote. In my mind, it had only been since the kids started their holiday break -- two weeks at the most.

I totally didn't mean to do that.

Everything is OK here; no need to worry. I mean, as OK as it gets for us. I am happy to report that we've welcomed Mark's mother and sister as permanent residents of Washington -- finally! And we had a very nice Christmas.

But today is New Year's Eve and as it has approached I've been pondering what my One Word for 2016 ought to be....

How I Do It

I recently shared an article on Facebook about how caregivers aren't superheroes. It asserts that "superhero" isn't a good enough descriptor for a caregiver.

My aunt commented her agreement, and that she doesn't know how I do it.

I am so very appreciative to know that others think I'm doing a good job. Validation, you know?

But then I got to thinking about how to respond.

How do I do it?

Learning to Delegate

It's an odd thing to feel like there's so much for you to control, and at the same time need to ask for help and delegate when you can in order to manage it all.

My husband got into our state's paid caregiver program last spring. He qualifies for someone to come into our home solely to help him. We can have an agency send someone, or we can have a friend or family member trained to do the job. We currently have a caregiver through an agency.

I used to be the sort of person who got very nervous when it came to having company in my home. We rarely did for so long (before we moved to Washington where some of my family lives and we actually made some friends).

You Know, Like Groundhog Day

In September of 2014, infection was discovered in my husband's chest (where it was cracked open for bypass surgery four years earlier). He underwent a debridement and was left with an open wound 18 cm long.

For the next eight months, we did everything we could to heal that wound without surgery. We eventually caved and Mark had a plastic surgeon perform a muscle flap procedure, after which he spent a month in a rehab facility with strict sternal precautions.

A month after returning home, two small abscesses formed on Mark's chest. He went to the ER and was admitted to the hospital for several days due to infection. He came home on both IV antibiotics and an anti-fungal.

Just as those two small wounds were THISCLOSE to healed, another abscess formed right in the middle of his chest. A CT scan was done and Mark was referred back to a cardiothoracic surgeon.

Blogging Existentialism

For the entire last year it has been difficult for me to get my stuff out here. To write.

To share my life with whoever is interested.

This bothers me so much. I remember, like, four years ago, as I was getting all gung-ho about blogging, that I would often come across other bloggers who were complaining of writer's block and time constraints or whathaveyou thinking, "that'll never be me. I never seem to have a shortage of things to write about and the words just flow....".

Yet here I am.

I want so badly to be able to write for other sites, to lend my perspective where appropriate, to a wider audience, and maybe even be paid for it (is that OK to say?). But if I can't even manage to maintain my personal blog any more than once a week -- for myself -- how am I supposed to write for anyone else?

*scratches head.

A Spousal Caregiver's Battle Cry

You know how last week I said I don't want to talk about it? 'It' being chronic illness and caregiving.

Looking back, at least three other posts I've written since May have shown my struggle with this, both the actual circumstances and talking about them.

1. I Don't Think I'm Doing it Right
2. I Can't Blog...I Haz the Life
3. An Awful, Negative and Ranty Post

After reading last week's lame attempt at expressing myself, another spousal caregiver felt compelled to write to me on his own blog. In his letter, Paul was able to put into words ALL THE THINGS I have been mostly blocked from spilling myself.

I sat at the kitchen table, phone in my hand, slack-jawed, as I read Paul's letter. Tears sprang to my eyes as each and every sentence echoed and validated my own thoughts and feelings.

I Don't Want to Talk About It

I've been having a problem lately.

I can't seem to -- or don't want to -- talk about things.

Or, for the purposes of my blog, write about them.

I am referring to my thoughts, feelings, struggles, resolutions, and etcetera regarding my husband's health problems and being his primary caregiver.

It's my biggest issue in life and I don't really want to talk about it.

I don't know if anyone has noticed.

The last couple of posts I've written that have to do with chronic illness and caregiving aren't entirely clear. Even my awful, negative, ranty post -- as honest as it was -- still skirted around some things.

An Awful, Negative and Ranty Post

I'm afraid to write this and share it because of how I might be judged.

But I think I'm at a point where I don't care what anyone thinks about how I'm feeling. I don't think there's anything wrong with honesty and being real.

Oh the FEELINGS. All the FUCKING FEELINGS!

It's uncomfortable, sure, and everyone wishes the less-than-happy-and-positive feelings didn't exist.

But they do, dammit.

People feel bad sometimes.

I feel bad sometimes.

I Can't Blog....I Haz the Life

I am writing this real quick, on the fly, before I bail out of my house for a girl's night out that I'm desperately hoping I can fake my way to happy for.

You see, things have been very trying for me (and Mark) for the last few weeks, and it's all been bubbling to the surface these last few days.

there's all of THAT, along with the kids home for the summer and a very long and annoying heat wave uncharacteristic of Western Washington.

Some Things Just Are What They Are

While perusing my Facebook news feed recently I saw a fan page status asking followers what common phrases get under their skin.

Several people answered, "It is what it is." One person clarified, "Ugh, just change it!"

I kept thinking about this for hours. (Funny how something you see in passing will do that to you, hu?)

You see, that phrase is one if my life mantras (I have it printed on a mug, and would buy a wall hanging of it if I found one I liked), so I can't understand why anyone would be put off by it.

And the person who exclaimed "just change it!" bothered me because that is the exact opposite of what the phrase is about.

6 Months of Trying to Heal

Sort of healing.

Halfway healing?

It has been six months since my husband was hospitalized for multiple infections and debridement of infected areas on his right heal and the middle of his chest.

I've been saying I would write up an update on how things are going that is more than a short quip on social media about doctor appointments or home health visits....

I've procrastinated, though. It's kind of hard to give updates on something that is fluid and ongoing. We haven't really had answers as to where things were going or any sort of end result.

Such is the nature of chronic illness. It's difficult to explain HOW THINGS ARE GOING when things, well, aren't really going anywhere.

Not to mention all the feels.

My Way or the Highway

Did you know today is My Way Day?

I'm a sucker for these silly daily "observances". I mean, why not?

My BFF -- also named Jennifer -- calls it taking a "Jen Zen" day.

If I had my way -- totally and completely -- for one whole day...

8 Ways to Save Money

I'm not super comfortable talking openly about money with most people. It's something that is just too easy to pass judgement on. I learned this 11 years ago when Mark and I went through bankruptcy after our relocation to Washington state.

But life around my house has changed quite a bit over the last 12 months, and part of those changes involve money. This is due mostly to my husband's chronic health conditions and his working less and less (and eventually not at all) ,which in turn has an impact on our budget.

I mean, obviously.

And I have found that some people are curious about how we make ends meet. Because of my hesitation to discuss personal money matters, I could simply say it's none of anyone's business. It really isn't, after all. However, I have been tweaking what we do and don't spend money on -- because I've absolutely had to -- and I thought perhaps what I've done could be of help to someone else.

Desperately Seeking Balance

Once a week? Twice a week?

That's all I can manage to blog?

I don't like it.

It's making me sad.

I know many bloggers struggle to post regularly. But I never have. This is foreign to me.

Sure, sometimes my posts are fluff. Sometimes they're sponsored. Right now, though, I have thought after thought after feeling that I'd like to write about. Flesh them out, both for my benefit and someone else's.

Salvaging the Broken Pieces

A year ago today I wrote about feelings my husband was having about his chronic illnesses, his abilities and/or disabilities and his future. It was less than a week before his dialysis access clotted off, which was the beginning of months and months of complication after complication for him....

Bringing us to where we are now. (I realize I still haven't given you all a clear update on how Mark is doing. Will work on that.)

At the time I shared:

...while he's happy for me to get the opportunity to do a little traveling, he is also jealous because he doesn't think he'll ever get to. He went on to say: "Nothing is going to get any better for me. It's only going to get worse.

It's like he knew what was coming.

One Word for 2015

This will be the third year I've had a single word to guide me.

I started to say "follow me", but that's not how it works. Not for me, at least.

My word actually leads me. I think I said last year that it's as if my word is floating somewhere out in front of me and I chase it.

I have found choosing a word for the year to be so much more powerful than any resolution I could make.

My One Word for 2015 is Resolve.

Perfect. (source)