I feel like I’m becoming a whiner, and I HATE whining. But boy, this month has been tough. HH’s and my anniversary was Aug. 21, but we couldn’t celebrate, because he’d just had a heart attack. It’s going to be my birthday soon, and we had a big celebration planned. Lots of people were coming to stay at our house. I’ve cooked TONS of food to freeze to get ready for it. Then John’s brother’s significant other caught Covid and they can’t come. Then my daughter and son-in-law in Florida are in the path of the latest hurricane, so their flights were canceled, and they’re stuck in Florida. But thankfully (hopefully), it looks like they won’t be in the direct path of Ian, so they’ll be miserable and probably without electricity but should be safe. Safe is good. My grandson and his wife were doing a rush trip just to see Robyn and Scott, since they have a wedding to attend this weekend, so now, they don’t have to come. So….at the end of the month, my daughter from Indy and my sister ten minutes away will probably show up to celebrate with us.

And that’s not the part that’s depressing. The depressing part is that my cousin with cerebral palsy had to go to the hospital to get a spot of cancer cut out of her lung twelve days ago, and she’s still in the hospital because NOTHING has gone right. The doctors and nurses have been wonderful. It’s just BAD luck. The last time she had cancer removed from her lung, it was in the bottom quadrant. It was a quick, easy procedure. This time, the spot was in the top part of the lung…..and that changes EVERYTHING. Only we didn’t know that. They had to crack a rib to reach the spot. She was in a decent amount of pain when everything was done. Then, when they removed the tubes to expand her lung after the operation, it didn’t expand. There were fluid bubbles and air leaks. She’s had THREE more procedures to fix the problems. And they’re still not fixed. She goes from uncomfortable to in pain after each procedure. It’s been the PITS. My sister is there for her every day. I try to get there most afternoons so that my sister can have a break. But everyone’s getting tired, stressed, and a little moody. They’ve put valves in some of the branches of Jenny’s lung, and yesterday, they tried the “glue” the top leak. Fingers crossed. We hope it works. So far, it doesn’t look good, but the doctor says that sometimes, it takes a day or two to be sure.

All I know is that hospital stays and visits are tiring, and I’m not whipping out pages, like I’d hoped to. But life happens. And Jenny and my sister need support. And once Jenny is better and can get to Saint Anne’s, everyone is going to feel better. And we’re all hoping when the calm comes, it stays calm for a long time. This has been one heck of a year.

Calming Down

Things have been more scrunched for time for me lately.  Life does that.  Sends you way too many things at the same time to see if you survive.  I have, but I’m really ready for life to slow down a bit.  I feel like I’ve been juggling too many balls and I barely got through without them all crashing down.

I’m not looking for sympathy, because I’ve worked through most of it, but my sister died, and then my other sister had to endure three surgeries really close together, and my cousin–who lived with Patty and now will live with Mary–has all kinds of health issues, and Mary couldn’t lift more than twenty pounds.  You’d be surprised how much that limits you.  None of it’s been horrible, but it’s all been trying.

Mary, with HH and my help, has been trying to empty Patty’s house to sell, and Jenny fell three times so that I had to spend the night sleeping in a recliner to keep an eye on her.  My sister Mary has done much, much more, so I’m only backup.  But it’s been rough.  On top of that, I’ve been writing and editing, and living my life.  I’ve had writing meetings at my house.  Because of Covid, we can’t meet in our usual room.  And I’ve been cooking for HH and me and sending leftovers to my sister (she hates to cook), and cooking for Scribes (because I love them) and cooking for kids whenever they come up to see us.

And I’ve loved all the good things.  Survived the bad things.  But I’m SO grateful it looks like we’re going to have a few weeks of down time.  I’m really ready for days with no pressure.  And I feel like a wimp, because Mary still has crap to deal with it, but I can’t help her with it.  I’m not power of attorney, so it’s all on her.  And I feel bad for her, but I have to admit, it’s going to be nice that I can’t do anything for a while, except send leftovers to her and my cousin.  Which they love and appreciate, and that even makes me feel tacky, because the leftovers are no big deal.

BUT, I think I’m going to have time to start plot points for my next Jazzi book (#7).  AND I got an idea for a new series–which I have no idea how I’ll find time to write, but the idea won’t go away.  SO, I’m going to plot out both books because I finally can write, then stop, then write again, until I figure out what I want to do.  And I’m not going to be rushed.  And that’s wonderful.  So I’m going to give both books time to unravel themselves and come to life for me.  And I’m grateful.

Hope you’re writing, too. May the Muse smile on you:)