There are already things that have changed…
Right now I am eating to live, not living to eat. Sometimes food tastes good and sometimes, it tastes like nothing.
Days that I get up, get out of bed, put on real clothes and do more than stare at the wall are a good day.
I know my dad wouldn’t have wanted my life to stop because his did, but it doesn't feel right. It doesn’t feel right trying to move on from this. It really doesn’t.
Even though I know he wouldn’t have wanted it this way, it feels macabre to do the things that my dad no longer can.
And there are things we would never have thought anything of before, that become meaningful now…
We will never again think of a cellphone call that goes unanswered as no big deal.
We will never look at a rain storm and not be filled with dread.
We will worry that something bad has happened when someone arrives home later than expected.
Someone recently said they hoped my illnesses were giving me a break, but honestly, I would rather that my physical pain and my emotional pain match, rather than being totally engulfed by emotional pain when the physical presses me to move forward, to move on.
Right now I feel like my brain is mush, and like I’m walking at a snails pace.
Many of you reading this right now are probably thinking that I need therapy. And I do, I know I do. But right now I need to sit with all that has happened and deal with it in my own time before I bring in a stranger to help me work through it.
When I got my diagnoses, I walked out of the doctor’s appointment feeling like the world had irrevocably changed, but I was the only one to notice it. In this case, the world has irrevocably changed, but I’m not the only one to have that feeling. Besides my family, it has become apparent over the last several weeks that my Dad was loved by many, many people, and he made lasting impact on those that had the pleasure of knowing him.
Two weeks ago, I could barely walk, barely breathe, was nauseous and dizzy. I could barely keep it together. This week, I am being forced back into somewhat of a routine, trying to prepare myself for all that I had originally planned to take place in the coming weeks.
Maybe I’ll get back into the swing of things by doing new things. I’ll be attending the Stanford MedX Conference from September 3, 2014, to September 8, 2014, and I’ll be attending the ePatient Connections Conference September 15 and 16, 2014.
My family has urged me to fulfill these commitments despite everything that has happened. They tell me that my Dad would have wanted me to forge ahead, despite his tragic loss.
That’s really the only thing that’s keeping me moving forward right now – that my Dad would have wanted it that way.