A low-key Halloween. Wanted to do more decorating and crafts but should be grateful that it was an improvement from last year, where I did nothing. At least there was a wee bit of evidence of the celebration around and all fall I have been doing a fair share of baking seasonal treats which was nil last year.
Most recent recipe - just take a small can of pumpkin puree and mix it with a box of Devil's Food or chocolate cake mix. Don't add anything else like eggs or oil. Batter will be stiff. Spoon into 12 greased muffin tins and bake for 20 minutes at 400. These come out very thick and moist. The taste of the pumpkin is not overpowering. Calories = 180 per muffin but I also added one cup of chocolate chips, which I add to pretty much everything I bake. I have seen this recipe on the internet and magazines, it is from the Hungry Girl cookbook. Didn't believe these would turn out but they were great and stayed moist for days!
The boys have told me I've baked enough pumpkin recipes for the season. Today, in honor of Halloween it is traditional to eat donuts, which used to be a mainstay at Halloween parties in the 1930s and 40s. So this morning we had chocolate and apple cider doughnut holes. I make a point of serving donuts on Halloween. The apple cider ones were especially tasty!
The day was sunny but brisk. Took my nature walk and could smell that pungent, spicy odor of burning leaves. Sprayed pumpkin body spray from Bath & Body Works for the full seasonal experience. Apparently they didn't sell this fragrance this year or the apple one they had a few years back so I'm glad I still have some left.
Last night my youngest slept over at a friend's but my oldest and I stayed up until 4:00 a.m. watching one of the "Chucky" doll horror movies - I'd never seen it but my sons both have. It was fun and out of the ordinary.
Part of my mind keeps dwelling on everything I didn't get done that I wanted to. But then I look at this entry and see that it wasn't so bad. The boys created decent costumes and went trick or treating and to parties with their friends. We had some treats. My oldest son's girlfriend is wearing the warm scarf I knit for her out tonight and it is warding off the chill. This is not the same Halloween we would have had living in our home or if my husband were still alive. But it was something. Low-key.
Tomorrow is a new day and a new month. I think I better start planning immediately for Christmas!
Final comment - Just eat the Kit Kat bar. All week I have seen, heard and read healthy substitutions to make for your favorite candy. It's Halloween that comes once a year. Enjoy and eat whatever your favorite is and don't give it another guilty thought!
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Don't Minimize My Grief
If any readers have experienced similar interactions to the ones I am going to ponder within this post, please respond. I am trying to come to terms with and understand what I have encountered for many years now and what I'll describe as the minimization of my grief. It seems that people want to minimize my circumstances. Over the years I have heard the following:
- A mere week after my husband died I was talking to a relative about the sadness and loss I felt that my sons no longer would have their father with them as they grew up (they were 9 and 10 and it was Halloween). My relative snapped back with "There are lots of single parents out there dealing with this - I don't know what your problem is." Trouble with this is that at the time, I don't think I even knew anyone raising kids on their own. I couldn't relate to this.
- Even my beloved Mom, the person who provided me with tremendous emotional support once said, "Think of the war widows" when I was trying to describe the amount of loss and pain I felt. I remember being confused and questioning which war widows she was referring to - the World War Two ones it turns out. But her statement flew over my head because again, I didn't have a point of reference to compare myself to a war widow from 50 years ago, no less.
- A couple months after my husband's death, I went to my dentist, whom I've been going to for 25+ years. I let everyone in the office know my sad news and my dentist's response was that one of his other patients had recently lost her husband too - but she had five children to now raise on her own in comparison to my two. I should feel grateful that I only had two children. This comment and reasoning really knocked the wind out of me. I recall feeling as though someone had punched me. Of course I felt bad about this other woman and her situation. But at the same time knowing she has what can be considered a more challenging situation did nothing to negate or lessen my own feelings of loss. In fact, it just made my own feelings worse because now I felt even guilty for not feeling more grateful and guilt because in some ways I didn't really care about this other person I didn't know. I was scrambling to make sense of my own life and was pretty self-focused. So there was more guilt about that too. I questioned that maybe I was grieving too much, etc.
- I attended a grief support group sponsored by a local church for about five months - it started two months after my husband's death. The group wasn't a good fit because with the exception of one other widow, it was made up of divorced or divorcing moms. Once there was a huge debate where the divorcees kind of turned on the two of us, claiming that they had it worse because they had to still interact with their deadbeat husbands. And that had to be more painful than having to deal with the onetime loss of a spouse due to a death. I was pretty flabbergasted with this reasoning and had enough sense to not get into an ongoing argument that would never have been resolved.
I do remember that it served as a light bulb moment when I realized that grief is grief. It shouldn't be measured or lessened for anyone. I knew then that I would never compare my own grief as a widow against that of another widow's. Meaning, if her children were raised and grown, I wouldn't say her life was easier than mine, having to go on as an only parent.
- Then there is the debate over whether the widows who've been caring for sick husbands have less grief than those whose husbands died unexpectedly. When this came up, I remembered my conclusion that grief is grief and I didn't get into the comparison of who has it worse.
- Here is a good one. My grief was supposedly less painful than a woman whose husband had died of old age. This was because they'd shared more time together than the 12 years of marriage I'd had with my husband. Again, I wisely avoided any argument.
- The divorce mediation attorney told me in what was supposed to be kindness that I shouldn't have any trouble getting over my divorce because I was an old pro at grief/loss. A divorce was so much less painful than the death of a spouse, you see. And living through that had made me stronger. This attitude/belief distressed me so much, some weeks later I made a call to my own attorney to voice my upset. I knew she often lunched with the other attorney and I requested that perhaps she could inform him that just because a person has experienced prior grief, it doesn't make them immune to hurting when loss pops up again in the future!
- But my all time favorite is the living in Africa argument. I've been told that I don't really have much to complain about in my life because I'm fortunate enough to live in the United States instead of Africa!
So, basically if I add all this up together, I shouldn't have felt as much grief or less of it because there are others out there in the same boat, there have been war widows or others before me with the same or worse experiences, I only have two children, I wasn't divorced, my husband died after an extended illness (so I guess I had time to emotionally prepare), I was a middle-aged widow instead of a senior, I was an old pro at grief and therefore, stronger and I don't live in Africa.
Might I add that all of these comments and others like them, always came from people who had not experienced the death of a spouse or for some, even a relative for that matter.
But I guess the point I am making here is that grief is grief and it is relative to each person's life and experiences. There is no way to measure it because it is so individualized. I never felt better after hearing stories of other people's hardships, some worse than mine. I can't relate to them because they are not mine. But because someone else suffered longer or more, doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain and intensity of loss. Nor does it mean that I shouldn't have the right to grieve what I've lost.
So often, I've felt guilty for grieving too long or too hard - as though I didn't even have the right to grieve. Or if I grieved openly I was taken to task for it. I used to say, "Don't take away my grief - I've lost my life as I knew it - don't take away my mourning for that too. I'm at least entitled to that."
Is a wealthier person's grief less than mine? No. So, please can we stop the comparisons to Africa and other horrific hardships. I already know that my situation is not comparable to that of a genocide victim or one that has lost a child. I already know that I don't live in Africa. Knowing that others out there have suffered more severely does nothing to diminish my pain and just intensifies it because of the added burden of feeling guilty for having the audacity to grieve in the first place. Add that guilt to what I already feel for not being able to keep up - Beth in NC referred to that as feeling as though she has failed at widowhood. There are so many burdens we're already shouldering. Don't add to the pile.
Say nothing. Don't offer advice, especially if you haven't lost a spouse. The best feedback I've ever received has been from my stepson, age 28, who has just responded in conversations we've had with, "I can't even imagine what it is like or has been like." I don't believe most of the widowed are out there trying to get a pity party going for them. We're describing the pain we're feeling and what we're experiencing. It is our life at the moment. And yet we're usually criticized for not being stronger.
In fact, I don't believe suffering actually makes people stronger. In my opinion, it can make us weaker because we end up being more vulnerable in the future. So I have come to hate that saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I don't agree.
The question I have is why are people so quick to dismiss and minimize our grief? Is it a way of thinking on the national level? You know, Americans are supposed to stand up and face hardship while marching strongly forward? Is it that as a culture, most of us are so quick to speak, yet rarely listen. Is the first response one of trying to come up with a solution so advice is quickly offered? Sometimes, there aren't answers and silence (listening) is the key. As a nation, we haven't been taught much about grief/loss - I think that has really changed in recent years. And maybe even intensify as more baby boomers face loss with illness, death and disability.
I remain perplexed about all of this but in the end, it just kind of convinces me that it is very difficult (maybe even impossible) to try and explain what the journey of widowhood has meant for me to those who haven't been there. That is why I keep coming back to the point of not wanting to talk about it anymore. I've said what I want to say. I end up sounding like a broken record, no one seems to get it and I find all of that very demoralizing as well as tiring. I can understand why some people don't want to make a big deal about their widowed status. It could be easier sometimes, to just pretend everything is okay.
- A mere week after my husband died I was talking to a relative about the sadness and loss I felt that my sons no longer would have their father with them as they grew up (they were 9 and 10 and it was Halloween). My relative snapped back with "There are lots of single parents out there dealing with this - I don't know what your problem is." Trouble with this is that at the time, I don't think I even knew anyone raising kids on their own. I couldn't relate to this.
- Even my beloved Mom, the person who provided me with tremendous emotional support once said, "Think of the war widows" when I was trying to describe the amount of loss and pain I felt. I remember being confused and questioning which war widows she was referring to - the World War Two ones it turns out. But her statement flew over my head because again, I didn't have a point of reference to compare myself to a war widow from 50 years ago, no less.
- A couple months after my husband's death, I went to my dentist, whom I've been going to for 25+ years. I let everyone in the office know my sad news and my dentist's response was that one of his other patients had recently lost her husband too - but she had five children to now raise on her own in comparison to my two. I should feel grateful that I only had two children. This comment and reasoning really knocked the wind out of me. I recall feeling as though someone had punched me. Of course I felt bad about this other woman and her situation. But at the same time knowing she has what can be considered a more challenging situation did nothing to negate or lessen my own feelings of loss. In fact, it just made my own feelings worse because now I felt even guilty for not feeling more grateful and guilt because in some ways I didn't really care about this other person I didn't know. I was scrambling to make sense of my own life and was pretty self-focused. So there was more guilt about that too. I questioned that maybe I was grieving too much, etc.
- I attended a grief support group sponsored by a local church for about five months - it started two months after my husband's death. The group wasn't a good fit because with the exception of one other widow, it was made up of divorced or divorcing moms. Once there was a huge debate where the divorcees kind of turned on the two of us, claiming that they had it worse because they had to still interact with their deadbeat husbands. And that had to be more painful than having to deal with the onetime loss of a spouse due to a death. I was pretty flabbergasted with this reasoning and had enough sense to not get into an ongoing argument that would never have been resolved.
I do remember that it served as a light bulb moment when I realized that grief is grief. It shouldn't be measured or lessened for anyone. I knew then that I would never compare my own grief as a widow against that of another widow's. Meaning, if her children were raised and grown, I wouldn't say her life was easier than mine, having to go on as an only parent.
- Then there is the debate over whether the widows who've been caring for sick husbands have less grief than those whose husbands died unexpectedly. When this came up, I remembered my conclusion that grief is grief and I didn't get into the comparison of who has it worse.
- Here is a good one. My grief was supposedly less painful than a woman whose husband had died of old age. This was because they'd shared more time together than the 12 years of marriage I'd had with my husband. Again, I wisely avoided any argument.
- The divorce mediation attorney told me in what was supposed to be kindness that I shouldn't have any trouble getting over my divorce because I was an old pro at grief/loss. A divorce was so much less painful than the death of a spouse, you see. And living through that had made me stronger. This attitude/belief distressed me so much, some weeks later I made a call to my own attorney to voice my upset. I knew she often lunched with the other attorney and I requested that perhaps she could inform him that just because a person has experienced prior grief, it doesn't make them immune to hurting when loss pops up again in the future!
- But my all time favorite is the living in Africa argument. I've been told that I don't really have much to complain about in my life because I'm fortunate enough to live in the United States instead of Africa!
So, basically if I add all this up together, I shouldn't have felt as much grief or less of it because there are others out there in the same boat, there have been war widows or others before me with the same or worse experiences, I only have two children, I wasn't divorced, my husband died after an extended illness (so I guess I had time to emotionally prepare), I was a middle-aged widow instead of a senior, I was an old pro at grief and therefore, stronger and I don't live in Africa.
Might I add that all of these comments and others like them, always came from people who had not experienced the death of a spouse or for some, even a relative for that matter.
But I guess the point I am making here is that grief is grief and it is relative to each person's life and experiences. There is no way to measure it because it is so individualized. I never felt better after hearing stories of other people's hardships, some worse than mine. I can't relate to them because they are not mine. But because someone else suffered longer or more, doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain and intensity of loss. Nor does it mean that I shouldn't have the right to grieve what I've lost.
So often, I've felt guilty for grieving too long or too hard - as though I didn't even have the right to grieve. Or if I grieved openly I was taken to task for it. I used to say, "Don't take away my grief - I've lost my life as I knew it - don't take away my mourning for that too. I'm at least entitled to that."
Is a wealthier person's grief less than mine? No. So, please can we stop the comparisons to Africa and other horrific hardships. I already know that my situation is not comparable to that of a genocide victim or one that has lost a child. I already know that I don't live in Africa. Knowing that others out there have suffered more severely does nothing to diminish my pain and just intensifies it because of the added burden of feeling guilty for having the audacity to grieve in the first place. Add that guilt to what I already feel for not being able to keep up - Beth in NC referred to that as feeling as though she has failed at widowhood. There are so many burdens we're already shouldering. Don't add to the pile.
Say nothing. Don't offer advice, especially if you haven't lost a spouse. The best feedback I've ever received has been from my stepson, age 28, who has just responded in conversations we've had with, "I can't even imagine what it is like or has been like." I don't believe most of the widowed are out there trying to get a pity party going for them. We're describing the pain we're feeling and what we're experiencing. It is our life at the moment. And yet we're usually criticized for not being stronger.
In fact, I don't believe suffering actually makes people stronger. In my opinion, it can make us weaker because we end up being more vulnerable in the future. So I have come to hate that saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I don't agree.
The question I have is why are people so quick to dismiss and minimize our grief? Is it a way of thinking on the national level? You know, Americans are supposed to stand up and face hardship while marching strongly forward? Is it that as a culture, most of us are so quick to speak, yet rarely listen. Is the first response one of trying to come up with a solution so advice is quickly offered? Sometimes, there aren't answers and silence (listening) is the key. As a nation, we haven't been taught much about grief/loss - I think that has really changed in recent years. And maybe even intensify as more baby boomers face loss with illness, death and disability.
I remain perplexed about all of this but in the end, it just kind of convinces me that it is very difficult (maybe even impossible) to try and explain what the journey of widowhood has meant for me to those who haven't been there. That is why I keep coming back to the point of not wanting to talk about it anymore. I've said what I want to say. I end up sounding like a broken record, no one seems to get it and I find all of that very demoralizing as well as tiring. I can understand why some people don't want to make a big deal about their widowed status. It could be easier sometimes, to just pretend everything is okay.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Sink Full of Dirty Dishes
Humor me, or better said, I am humoring myself. These past few weeks my senses seem heightened in regard to widowhood. I've been having a tough time, perhaps because my new job involves so much physical strain. And I was pretty sick. Not a good combination when you're living and parenting on your own and you're the kind of person who needs a shot of support from a partner on a regular basis. Or at least a partner with whom you're snuggling next to at day's end.
The dirty dishes sat in my sink over the Easter weekend, which also included Monday. Tuesday was my day off. But now my youngest was sick. He'd been ill with similar symptoms to mine and my older son all Spring Break. But he seemed harder hit with throat ailments. My day off on Tue. was spent taking my oldest to the dermatologist and then the youngest to check out his condition. Turns out he has Mono. At 6:00 p.m. I was 12th in line at the pharmacy at Walmart and by 7:00 home and exhausted, AGAIN. The dishes were still sitting in the sink and by now I had no clean pans in which to cook dinner. Anyway, I was too tired to cook and I knew that I'd be up at 4:00 a.m. the next morning to go back to work. So it was a cheap Taco Bell dinner for us all.
Widowhood reminds me of a sink full of dirty dishes. It is ugly, gross and even starts to smell with the passage of time. It is hard to ignore because it is such a vivid reminder of what is and it sure makes its presence known, like when some fruit flies appeared.
I tried cutting myself some slack. As an only parent sometimes there is only so much that can be done. It was a Taco Bell dinner night, so be it. My oldest is not home due to his volleyball commitments and the youngest far too sick to stand at the sink doing dishes to help out. Anyway, with everyone so ill the past three weeks, I felt better doing them myself since I knew I'd do a better job.
But still, I was increasingly upset with the dishes teasing and taunting me. On Easter, I was so physically tired I couldn't stand after my shift. That has been a problem - getting off work and not even being able to tackle the chores at home - the laundry has also been piling up.
I figure in time my body will adjust to the physical work load but I'm 50, not 25 and not as chipper as I once was. The dishes sat until my next day off on Thur. and got done and the laundry was started (I started tackling them Wed. afternoon). My youngest only went back to school on Friday - he was out four days. Now I wonder if it was really Mono that I had when I was sick. I remained ill for three weeks and am still not feeling entirely up to snuff!
Some of this relates to the adjustment of going back to work and I believe only parents face their own set of issues related to balancing work and parenting on their own. There is a tremendous amount of energy spent figuring out the logistics of getting kids to and fro.
There is nothing I wouldn't do for my boys and I have always put their needs ahead of mine. But still, it felt hard and tedious being at doctor offices all day. I didn't get a chance to recover from working so hard the previous three days and the next day I was back at it. Nothing got done in terms of chores or housework.
I hate that widowhood robs me of choices - there wasn't another option for me - unless I wanted to collapse at the sink those dishes weren't going to get done. And so they continued to sit there and mock me. Now really, what positives exist in a sink full of dirty dishes? Absolutely nothing as far as I can determine. Likewise, with widowhood. What good has come out of this for my sons and I? Maybe our characters have become stronger and we are more compassionate individuals but that is it. And anyway, we were probably strong and compassionate to begin with to some extent. And there are still plenty of other ways to build up character besides tragedy.
It is becoming impossible for me to accept the limitations and realities of this life of widowhood. I am aware that until I am not widowed and living alone, I will not be content and I will continue to feel this vast void. Trouble is, I'm just too tired/lethargic to get back out there to start rebuilding social connections and there doesn't seem to be enough time either. So for now, I'll try to keep more on top of the dishes so they don't pile up in the future and become overwhelming and ready to topple over.
The dirty dishes sat in my sink over the Easter weekend, which also included Monday. Tuesday was my day off. But now my youngest was sick. He'd been ill with similar symptoms to mine and my older son all Spring Break. But he seemed harder hit with throat ailments. My day off on Tue. was spent taking my oldest to the dermatologist and then the youngest to check out his condition. Turns out he has Mono. At 6:00 p.m. I was 12th in line at the pharmacy at Walmart and by 7:00 home and exhausted, AGAIN. The dishes were still sitting in the sink and by now I had no clean pans in which to cook dinner. Anyway, I was too tired to cook and I knew that I'd be up at 4:00 a.m. the next morning to go back to work. So it was a cheap Taco Bell dinner for us all.
Widowhood reminds me of a sink full of dirty dishes. It is ugly, gross and even starts to smell with the passage of time. It is hard to ignore because it is such a vivid reminder of what is and it sure makes its presence known, like when some fruit flies appeared.
I tried cutting myself some slack. As an only parent sometimes there is only so much that can be done. It was a Taco Bell dinner night, so be it. My oldest is not home due to his volleyball commitments and the youngest far too sick to stand at the sink doing dishes to help out. Anyway, with everyone so ill the past three weeks, I felt better doing them myself since I knew I'd do a better job.
But still, I was increasingly upset with the dishes teasing and taunting me. On Easter, I was so physically tired I couldn't stand after my shift. That has been a problem - getting off work and not even being able to tackle the chores at home - the laundry has also been piling up.
I figure in time my body will adjust to the physical work load but I'm 50, not 25 and not as chipper as I once was. The dishes sat until my next day off on Thur. and got done and the laundry was started (I started tackling them Wed. afternoon). My youngest only went back to school on Friday - he was out four days. Now I wonder if it was really Mono that I had when I was sick. I remained ill for three weeks and am still not feeling entirely up to snuff!
Some of this relates to the adjustment of going back to work and I believe only parents face their own set of issues related to balancing work and parenting on their own. There is a tremendous amount of energy spent figuring out the logistics of getting kids to and fro.
There is nothing I wouldn't do for my boys and I have always put their needs ahead of mine. But still, it felt hard and tedious being at doctor offices all day. I didn't get a chance to recover from working so hard the previous three days and the next day I was back at it. Nothing got done in terms of chores or housework.
I hate that widowhood robs me of choices - there wasn't another option for me - unless I wanted to collapse at the sink those dishes weren't going to get done. And so they continued to sit there and mock me. Now really, what positives exist in a sink full of dirty dishes? Absolutely nothing as far as I can determine. Likewise, with widowhood. What good has come out of this for my sons and I? Maybe our characters have become stronger and we are more compassionate individuals but that is it. And anyway, we were probably strong and compassionate to begin with to some extent. And there are still plenty of other ways to build up character besides tragedy.
It is becoming impossible for me to accept the limitations and realities of this life of widowhood. I am aware that until I am not widowed and living alone, I will not be content and I will continue to feel this vast void. Trouble is, I'm just too tired/lethargic to get back out there to start rebuilding social connections and there doesn't seem to be enough time either. So for now, I'll try to keep more on top of the dishes so they don't pile up in the future and become overwhelming and ready to topple over.
Monday, March 15, 2010
H1N1?
I have started work as a CNA at a nursing home and had two days of orientation, followed by two of training on the floor. I was off the weekend and began getting sick throughout the day on Saturday. Flu symptoms, just feeling crappy all around. Tired, lethargic, body aches, headache, sore throat, and awful cough, plus sneezing, runny nose/stuffy nose (yes, both), watery eyes and fever. When I stand up I am dizzy and all I want to do is lie down in bed - no appetite.
I knew I would not be able to get through an 8-hour work day today, so called in Sunday night. The man I spoke to gave me a hard time about calling off during my training. When I called again this morning to speak to the scheduling supervisor, she was more considerate. I told her I did not think I could work again tomorrow and was taken off the schedule. At this point I continue to feel lousy and am worried I'll need to take off Wednesday. The cough has moved into my chest. I got some severe cold medicine and that is helping but I just don't have any energy and can't stand for long periods.
Last night was one of those where the best I could do was pick up Wedny's for my youngest (my oldest ate with his girlfriend). I just couldn't sand at the stove to prepare the meal I'd planned and it was too complicated for my youngest to cook. I'm feeling a little bit needy and wishing for some TLC. But of course, the middle-aged widow is not likely to receive much of that from her self-centered teen boys.
I have been so lucky the past years to have really not gotten ill. The scheduling supervisor said it is common for people who haven't been working to get sick a number of times in the first month they start working at a nursing home. I'm not going to apologize for getting sick. And if I am sick I am not going to work. I know my body and my limitations. It is unfortunate that I've been hit early in my employment but it does no good for me to go in and be unproductive or possibly at risk to the elderly and weak I am in contact with.
I've been out of the work loop for awhile now. And now I remember all the crap that goes on with calling off. Did the employer believe that I was sick? Should I really work even when I'm unwell? I've reached a point in my life where I don't call off to gain some free time. If I call off I am legitimately sick. I absolutely refuse to work at an extremely physical job lifting and transferring elderly when I am lightheaded and under the weather.
Something I learned from my husband's death is that I will not play stupid games anymore or jeopardize my own health by going into work when I'm sick. I won't be intimidated or scared. If I'm sick I need to take off to care for myself. Sad to have to be physically ill before I take that time.
I blogged this post in bits and pieces, having to get up to drop off some paperwork at the school for my son's volleyball team and then to pick up the youngest. My youngest told me "You shouldn't even be up blogging, go to bed!" I would rather not have gone out anywhere today but had to muster up the strength to do - that happens a lot as an only parent. Sometimes there isn't a choice. You're the only one there, sick or not.
In closing, it is crummy being sick. This is when it would be the most helpful to have a loving spouse by my side. To soothe me with some TLC, to help with the boys. Our home space (I still have trouble saying apartment) is an absolute mess since I wasn't up to much over the weekend. And still I feel guilty. That is the clincher. To feel guilty for being sick. Guilty for not being able to keep up, to be unable to work. Is that one of the repercussions of widowhood? We widows with kids end up doing so much of everything on our own, 24/7. There is such a tremendous amount of responsibility resting on our shoulders. We can't afford a day off for any reason. All our organization and planning goes out the window when we fall sick. Our lives become discombobulated.
If anyone deserves some kindness, support and a break it would be for the widow who is sick. And yet because I've held myself up to some impossible standard all these years on my own I look at myself as weak because I've gotten sick. And I feel guilty besides. Guilty for wasting the hours in bed, guilty for not working when we so need this job. Widowhood sucks, getting sick sucks and the combination of the two ULTRA SUCKS!
Skipping grateful list today because I need to go back to bed and lie down.
I knew I would not be able to get through an 8-hour work day today, so called in Sunday night. The man I spoke to gave me a hard time about calling off during my training. When I called again this morning to speak to the scheduling supervisor, she was more considerate. I told her I did not think I could work again tomorrow and was taken off the schedule. At this point I continue to feel lousy and am worried I'll need to take off Wednesday. The cough has moved into my chest. I got some severe cold medicine and that is helping but I just don't have any energy and can't stand for long periods.
Last night was one of those where the best I could do was pick up Wedny's for my youngest (my oldest ate with his girlfriend). I just couldn't sand at the stove to prepare the meal I'd planned and it was too complicated for my youngest to cook. I'm feeling a little bit needy and wishing for some TLC. But of course, the middle-aged widow is not likely to receive much of that from her self-centered teen boys.
I have been so lucky the past years to have really not gotten ill. The scheduling supervisor said it is common for people who haven't been working to get sick a number of times in the first month they start working at a nursing home. I'm not going to apologize for getting sick. And if I am sick I am not going to work. I know my body and my limitations. It is unfortunate that I've been hit early in my employment but it does no good for me to go in and be unproductive or possibly at risk to the elderly and weak I am in contact with.
I've been out of the work loop for awhile now. And now I remember all the crap that goes on with calling off. Did the employer believe that I was sick? Should I really work even when I'm unwell? I've reached a point in my life where I don't call off to gain some free time. If I call off I am legitimately sick. I absolutely refuse to work at an extremely physical job lifting and transferring elderly when I am lightheaded and under the weather.
Something I learned from my husband's death is that I will not play stupid games anymore or jeopardize my own health by going into work when I'm sick. I won't be intimidated or scared. If I'm sick I need to take off to care for myself. Sad to have to be physically ill before I take that time.
I blogged this post in bits and pieces, having to get up to drop off some paperwork at the school for my son's volleyball team and then to pick up the youngest. My youngest told me "You shouldn't even be up blogging, go to bed!" I would rather not have gone out anywhere today but had to muster up the strength to do - that happens a lot as an only parent. Sometimes there isn't a choice. You're the only one there, sick or not.
In closing, it is crummy being sick. This is when it would be the most helpful to have a loving spouse by my side. To soothe me with some TLC, to help with the boys. Our home space (I still have trouble saying apartment) is an absolute mess since I wasn't up to much over the weekend. And still I feel guilty. That is the clincher. To feel guilty for being sick. Guilty for not being able to keep up, to be unable to work. Is that one of the repercussions of widowhood? We widows with kids end up doing so much of everything on our own, 24/7. There is such a tremendous amount of responsibility resting on our shoulders. We can't afford a day off for any reason. All our organization and planning goes out the window when we fall sick. Our lives become discombobulated.
If anyone deserves some kindness, support and a break it would be for the widow who is sick. And yet because I've held myself up to some impossible standard all these years on my own I look at myself as weak because I've gotten sick. And I feel guilty besides. Guilty for wasting the hours in bed, guilty for not working when we so need this job. Widowhood sucks, getting sick sucks and the combination of the two ULTRA SUCKS!
Skipping grateful list today because I need to go back to bed and lie down.
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