Is This a Test?

I can't believe it's been two months since I last wrote in this blog. It has been quite an emotional roller coaster and I guess I've been trying to figure out what it all means without sounding like I'm having a "pity party." Although September began as a bit of a "downer," with the news that two friends have been diagnosed with cancer, it ended on a high note with a family wedding. 


On September 25, My youngest daughter and her girlfriend were married in a beautiful outdoor ceremony at a lovely inn in Vermont—where, by the way, it is legal for same sex couples to marry. (It is also legal in Connecticut where they live.) How fortunate they are. Although it was sad not to have Art there for the wedding, it was the happiest time we'd had as a family since he died.


I came back to Florida a week later feeling like I was finally coming out of a long, dark tunnel, and I was ready to find out what lay ahead. But, unfortunately, all I found at the other end was another tunnel. Less than 36 hours after arriving back home, I was lying on an operating table having emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix. Who knew you could have a ruptured appendix at age 70? It was certainly the last thing I would have thought of. So there I was, again, dependent on my sister and brother-in-law, and my wonderful friends and neighbors, to take care of me. And, once again, they rose to the occasion. My sister and brother-in-law stayed with me for several days, and my friends responded immediately by bringing food, sending cards and flowers, stopping by to see me… How did I get so lucky to be living in this place at this time in my life? How can I ever repay my wonderful friends and family for all they've done for me over the last 2 years?


I'm a "glass half full" kind of person—always able to find one small bright spot no matter how bad the situation—so it pains me to admit that this latest "set back" really tested my innate sense of optimism. I couldn't see one positive thing about it, until several friends pointed out how lucky it was that it hadn't happened just before the wedding; or, worse yet, during the weekend of the wedding. Why hadn't I thought of that? If this had happened to one of my friends, I'd have been the first one to point out the one bright spot in their difficult situation. Clearly, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself; asking myself what I did to deserve this latest setback; wondering if someone was testing me to see how much  adversity I can take before giving in to despair. I almost did give into despair during the 4-day stay in the hospital. I was haunted by memories of all the days and nights spent in hospitals during Art's illness, and I missed him more than ever. Why wasn't he there taking care of me, the way he always did—the way I took care of him?


It's a new month now. I'm gradually regaining my strength, and my incision, which was left open so that it can heal from the inside out to avoid a potential infection, is almost healed. The surgeon discharged me from his care this past Friday—just in time for me to take my first giant step back toward normalcy by following through on plans my friend Kitty and I had made (before the ruptured appendix) to attend the "Rally to Restore Sanity" in Washington DC. We flew out early Saturday morning and were back home by 10:30 that night. It was tiring but well worth the trip. Attending that rally with over 200,000 other "reasonable" people reminded me that the world doesn't revolve around me and my problems. There are thousands who are far worse off than I have ever been. There are serious problems to be solved, and we all need to stop shouting at each other and try to find a way to work together to solve them.


So now that I've had my little "pity party," I think I'm ready to start looking for the light at the end of this new tunnel.