As if that isn't enough to throw my equilibrium, we are also on pins and needles today for Ken. We are going on the fourth week of his less-than-good health. He is walking with less pain, thank goodness, but reality hit last night that foot health, while manageable, won't ever be restored. Picture a grumpy person. But that's the least of our issues. He has been short of breath, the white blood cell count is out of whack, and antibiotics to counter whatever infection is at work have not done the trick. This morning he goes for additional bloodwork and CAT scans. There's a chance that the infection is in his heart (though his lungs continue to generate phlem). He has decided to close the LLC aspect of his business which, in short, means no more big jobs, and no more employees. The expense of that was eating him alive in this slow economy. Did I suggest picturing a grumpy person? Add mopey to that. I'm not trying to be unkind. It's just a reality with which I live at present.
When I have a moment to myself--standing in the kitchen with a topped off cup of coffee in my hand--I look out the window at a world that looks radically different from the agitated and swishy one (think washing machine) that I experience within. It's quiet, peaceful, blossoming and green, and the morning light seems to caress every aspect of my view. It serves to remind me that other worlds are available to me, I simply need to visit them (in my mind, in my heart, in my dreams...) and stay open to looking at it all with a broader perspective. I wish I could wave a wand over Ken that would serve to encourage him to depart from his chaos and disappointments. I have lived in those shoes (pardon any projected pun), and I choose not to let them do my walking for me. "Give me grace to accept the things I cannot change, and the will to change what I can." Or something like that. It works.
The TV/phone/Internet issues? They'll get fixed. Maybe not as soon as I would like to, but I'll deal with it. His health? For myself I can pray and take action where I am able. I can, and do, seek support and affection from my circle of loved ones. For him I am here and available to him, and will do what needs to be done to support and provide care for him. These are not fun times, but I've been through worse. We'll get through it.
We can use your prayers, your good thoughts, your candles, your hopes, and all other good things sent our way. Winning lottery ticket numbers would be welcome as well. I promise, we'll play them.