Worry Worry Worry Worry Worry
Today at dinner Emily hugged me before she sat down and said, “Mommy, how long are you going to be gone?” And I realized that I had neglected to explain to her that I wasn’t going to be giving up half my liver THIS week.
Up until that moment, I was actually quite proud of myself because I’d reached out to my support system (thank you, ALL) and arranged sleepovers for both girls for Tuesday and Thursday night (so Jim and I can get to the hospital on time on Wednesday and Friday morning) plus transportation home from school on the nights they don’t have sleepovers. So I guess I got wrapped up in explaining the crazy schedule to Jim and other people in FRONT of Emily without actually cluing her in on exactly why this was happening this week. Oops.
When Emily started hugging me and worrying about when she’d see me again, it freaked me out a little. Because it made it real. If I’m Ana’s donor, then I really will be gone for a while and I know that’s going to be very hard on Emily. I have no idea how to explain any of this crap to my 8-year-old in a way that she will truly understand. I ended up telling her that I have a couple of doctor’s appointments in the city, and I’ll have to leave very early, and daddy will have to come with me, but not to worry. No surgery for mommy this week!
I really hate this sinking, floundering feeling in my chest. There’s no serenity. I feel cornered. Wild-eyed, totally desperate. I pounded my fists on my keyboard today and cried because I didn’t want to work. It wasn’t the work that upset me though. It’s just that sitting in my quiet office which is sandwiched in between Ana’s and Emily’s rooms leaves too much room for my mind to wander. I literally have to force it away from the worry, worry, worry, worry, WORRY WORRY WORRY THAT FUCKING CONSUMES ME.
It’s exhausting. I’m just so exhausted.