I’m sorry I didn’t blog yesterday. I didn’t have the motivation, and even though I tried to “Just Do It”, I couldn’t.
I did find out when I will be hospitalized for further neurological testing. We received notification that my insurance would cover my stay and my husband would have to schedule the hospitalization. Lucky me, I will be hospitalized the day after Phil’s and my 9th wedding anniversary.
It will be a bit strange. First this is my third hospitalization at a third hospital in the area. Second, I’m checking into the hospital. No ambulance, no intake through the emergency room. It almost feels like I’m checking into a hotel, only the bed will be hard, and I won’t know if I’ll have a roommate, and I don’t know when I’ll get to go home.
Because of the distance from the hospital to the house, Phil won’t get to visit me. But, he has promised to text me as much as possible. Hopefully some of my local Seattle friends will visit too.
My Mom and My Sister
I have been estranged from my entire family for a little over a year. I had constantly felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster when they were in my life. I constantly felt like I was receiving verbal abuse, no matter who I spoke to, and I was tired. My husband finally stood up for me, and though, the way he did it wasn’t exactly what you would call polite, I would say that’s the only way they would listen.
At that point, I received no phone calls, no letters, no birthday or Christmas gifts. They were just gone from my life. In some ways it hurt, but in most ways, it felt like I was finally free.
When I was first hospitalized in April this year, Phil asked me if I wanted anyone to know, and I said he could text my sister. She would be the least judgmental and the most concerned. My sister and I texted quite a bit while I was in the hospital. Coincidentally, our car broke down and Phil was neither able to get to work or to see me. My sister immediately thought the only reason we had contacted her was for money and ceased contact immediately.
I was hospitalized again a short time later because I had a fall and hit my head on one of the small tables at our house. Phil reached out to my sister again, but she didn’t respond. When I was hospitalized for the third time in June, Phil figured what was the point? The only other time I heard from my sister was when my grandma passed in June.
A week ago, I received a package in the mail. I recognized my mom’s handwriting, and inside was a complete snowman teaset. My grandma had given me two mugs when she first bought it, but didn’t give me anymore for fear that I would break it. But now, apparently, my mom had saved it for me. There was no note in the box. My only way of knowing who it was from was the handwriting on the box, but that was typical when she sent me things – Box, with no card.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I eventually wrote to her via text just to say thank you for sending me grandma’s tea set. She wrote back saying “you’re welcome” and that the cookie jar was from her. Was that all I was going to get? Phil thought I shouldn’t respond at all, but I wondered if just maybe I could open a dialogue with her. I replied to her text, telling her we were going to keep everything wrapped up for when we move, that our church was helping us find a rental and would help us move my wheelchair ramp when we found a new place to live. I left it vague to see if she cared enough to ask questions. What church? Why are you moving? Why do you need a wheelchair ramp? But there was no response.
I think at this point, I will let things be. It was obvious a year ago that she chose her mom over her daughter – not that I was too surprised. She had chosen her husband over her daughter a little over 20 years ago. I wouldn’t mind having a relationship now. Any type of grudge I had against her is gone. I have made an attempt to contact her, and it’s her turn to write back.
I have no illusions of anyone else in my family contacting me, but I don’t care. It seems I got cast the evil eye by everyone when I met Phil, and now since we’ve lasted 9 years plus, it probably pisses them off all the more.
So why do I intermix my neurology tests with my current relationship with my mom and sister? I’m reminded when I had my first complex partial seizure in January 2010. She did nothing but send me a plant. My aunt who I was speaking to at the time told me if it was her daughter she would have flown to her side right away, but not my mom. She absently thought a plant would be the perfect get well gift for someone who had general right sided weakness, could not walk, and could not move her right arm. The plant is still alive, by the way, thanks to my husband.
Anyway, I was just thinking, this is another scary point in my life, being hospitalized for an unknown number of tests. If my mom knew, would she care? Or would she have something nasty to say about me or about my husband?