So the last week has been interesting… seems the beast has reared its ugly head again and I face the possible decision of another surgery. While I can't imagine ever having an MRI as ugly as the original reveal when after 6 years of searching for the root cause of my neck pain was finally discovered which caused enough devastation. This latest one has to come in 2nd place. Leaving me to actually ponder should I even resign to more surgery when I know that the functionality of my life span seems to ever so slowly diminish everyday.
But it seems that that my best years are already behind me physically and emotionally I can't fathom ever having a love and a life that could even come close that what I know now more than ever in retrospect, especially when Mr. Coffee is the as emotionally supportive as a pet rock – and that's me painting it in a positive light.
It's moments like this where I look at my life in review and where it is presently is and realize the huge mistakes in my life that had I not made that I while I'd still be broken in body, but I would be surrounded by my family, my first and only true husband, and our son, and that love could withstand my current diagnosis, no matter where it would end. While my body would still be broken, I would be loved and cherished and most importantly emotionally supported.
Where my marriage to Mr. Coffee was based solely on fun with no foundation and my desperate need for medical insurance.
But that's not reality. Reality is my first and only real husband has finally found my replacement. And no matter how many times I wanted to go back and had the opportunity, I was always scared of Mr. Coffees temper and fury and then I had doubts whether my husband had truly changed or if it was just me that brought the worst out of him. Then I was sure and I was ready and miscommunication both in and out of the bedroom made me realize that his heart had finally let me go and the plethora of offers to move back where just a memory and chances I wanted so badly to take, but fear of Mr. Coffee and his fury kept me where I stood and from the only person who did love me for better and for worse.
So here I've spent the last 8 months in a state of hurt, anger, wanting to be vengeful and expose his cheating with me to my replacement, and feeling perhaps I had been duped all along. It's quite a mixture of emotions that even daily meditation and distractions like trying to learn French and attempt to crochet something for more than 10 minutes before having to stop because of all the physical pain I endure every single day.
But most of all I miss my best friend, who even after the divorce was always there for me no questions asked.
I even went as low as to initially throw a monkey wrench into his vacation plans with his new found family by sticking to a date for drop off he confirmed before he made those vacation plans. The angry, hurt part of me wanted to. But in the end, as much as I want to hurt him for hurting me, I just couldn't do it. It's not me. I've never been the vengeful type. Even during the contentious divorce, I didn't even ask for the full 20% of child support, it was more like 10%, I didn't seek out pensions, 401Ks, nothing – even the judge asked me if I was sure. It's just not who my parents raised me to be.
So as this latest cross road lies ahead in my diagnosis, Im sure I will being forced to make more choices based on best guesses of my medical team.
Part of me is starting to accept that period of my life, that blissful moment of knowing what true love really felt like but didn't know how good i had it until it was gone – was a gift, a beautiful gift, that with that the sorrow of that loss, which is so incredibly powerful, was the affirmation of what it was like to be truly loved – for better or for worse.
Which makes the next stop in this roller coaster of a diagnosis that has robbed me of just about everything even more a daunting task.