February 14, 2022 and the big Lebowski

Wednesday's sneak peek

The first stop was to drop off Brindsley and Delaney at school and then bring Jeff to the hospital. Today he would be getting his port placed in his chest. I reminded the kids I would be picking them up after school. Jeff reassured me his procedure was quick and he would be done around lunchtime.

Perfect, the plan is all set, and maybe Jeff and I will have some time together before I pick up the kids. It was Valentine’s Day, not like I was keeping track or anything.

We hugged and kissed the kids goodbye before they opened the car door.

“Have a great day. We love you.”

“Love you too!” they shouted before closing the car doors.

I pulled up to the hospital around 9:30 a.m.

“I’ll call you when to come back and pick me up.” Jeff kissed me on the cheek and I hugged him.

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too, Jules.”

I watched him walk in through the double glass sliding doors through my rearview mirror before I headed back home. I hope it goes well.

I had my running clothes on so I wouldn’t neglect my six-mile run. I noticed some mornings I couldn’t get out of bed at my usual 5 a.m. run time. I was so tired. I didn’t know why since I was still going to bed at 9 p.m. Of course, looking back I know why— my brain energy was on this new health challenge Jeff was facing and being available and aware of my children’s needs.

I pulled into the driveway and took off on foot to the country roads. I faced the biting wind and thought about Jeff. I can face this cold, Jeff is facing “C”! Come on Julie, this is nothing. I can do this. I want to do this.

I straightened my arms down by my side and shook them out hoping that would relax my mind, refocus, and keep me going. The wind continued, it wouldn’t let up. One foot before the other, breathe, relax, and run. I continued with these words to fuel me as I took in the snow covered fields.

Running was my go to and a way to carry the loads of life…especially the ones we don’t see coming. I used running to keep going through this challenge and to work through my anger, sadness, and loss. I turned to my notebook. I wrote daily to get out of my head. I wrote poems to help me process my emotions.

During this time, I noticed more and more and paid attention to the simple things. I didn’t want to get sucked down in the muck or let this diagnosis steal my joy, peace, or hope.

Of course, my mind would tell me the opposite. Aunt Phoebe squeaked in, “You can’t find joy, peace, or hope during this time. This is terrible, this is brutal!”

Yes, it was terrible and brutal, but the longer I stayed in those thoughts, the more anger, despair, and sadness would creep into my heart and soul. I didn’t want to show up for my family with that energy.

And we all know we have control over how we show up no matter the circumstance.

****

When I came into the house around 11 a.m. I rushed to my phone to see if Jeff texted. Sure enough, his name was displayed as I swiped to retrieve what he wrote. 

“I’m still waiting, they had an emergency. I might be here awhile.” 

GRR. I felt bad. He had been waiting there since 9:30 a.m. and couldn’t eat until the procedure was finished. He must be starving, or maybe not. His appetite was still off. 

I texted back, “Okay, I’m sorry this is turning into a long day.” 

“It’s fine, I’m watching TV.”

A graphics interchange format (GIF) of the big Lebowski came next. I couldn’t help but laugh. That movie is so strange but so funny.

I was happy Jeff seemed so laid back about the entire situation.  

I jumped in the shower, ate, and started work. I finally got a text around 1:30 p.m. “They are taking me in now. I’ll text you when I’m ready to be picked up.”

I continued on with the plan of collecting the kids from school and anticipated them coming along with me to the hospital. I finally got a call around 4:30 p.m. “Your husband did great, you can come get him now.”

Wow! A short procedure took an entire day and instead of getting bent out of shape I was relieved it went well. The kids were not delighted when I told them they needed to get back in the car.

“Mom, we are playing a good game.” “Can’t you just leave us home?”

“No, I’m not going to leave you home. Grab some books and let’s go. It’s not that far of a drive and Dad will be so happy to see us all.”

“Oh, alright.” they both grumbled.

I watched as they grabbed a few books, a stuffed animal, and a notebook with pens. We were ready for the 25-minute drive. I laughed to myself as their arms overflowed with their treasures for the ride.

As I backed out of the garage it dawned on me— what are we doing for dinner? My mind searching for what’s in the fridge. What did we have last night? What can I throw together?

What did I make last night? I couldn’t remember.

A mile down the road, the light bulb finally came on— Oh, that’s right my friend dropped off a meal to us last night and we have plenty still in the fridge. I let out a breath, smiled at my friend’s thoughtfulness, and headed to the hospital with the weight of dinner figured out— leftovers.

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Thank you for reading. This needs a good edit but what I hope to show is that even during life’s challenges and troubles, we get to choose what we focus on and how we respond. It’s not always easy for me to remember this.

I will never forget my husband sending me big Lebowski GIFs. I’m so grateful he chose humor even during some of the toughest days. He still sends them and it will never get old!