Dr. Evil was created by a stupid virus. I can’t take it back. I can’t wish it away.
I want to travel back and somehow prevent Dr. Evil from getting sick. But since I can’t time travel I’m trying to move forward instead of looking back. That doesn’t mean I don’t look back. That past events don’t creep into my present. Or affect my attitudes and moods.
If you’re new here….the quick and dirty version is one day three years Dr. Evil didn’t feel well. The next day he was on life support. In an induced coma. For 10 days. A septic staph infection led to kidney, heart, and liver failure. Staph pneumonia. Rhabdomyolysis. And all the fun things that go along with all of that. He got better when many thought he wouldn’t. Even had a doctor tell me she expected to attend a funeral not hear about recovery. Dr. Evil learned to walk again and went home about 5 weeks later. He spent the next few months recuperating and I spent the next few months in crisis mode.
When Dr. Evil returned to work and returned to normal, I fell into a million pieces. I didn’t know how to function since crisis mode was no longer necessary. I started seeing a therapist. And have been in therapy ever since.
So today is the day it all started. An anniversary if you will.
And I’m not sure how I feel.
One minute I look and realize how amazing my life is right now. Dr. Evil is healthy and happy. He is completely recovered and has ZERO issues from all that happened to him. Our children are great. I have met amazing people. I’ve started this blog and made my way into not one but two books. I have learned to speak my mind and stand up for myself in ways I never could before. My family has snowboarding because of all of this. We will always have that together. I have amazing friends that have become family.
The next minute I panic. Dr. Evil has a cold right now. Doesn’t he know he IS NEVER AGAIN ALLOWED TO BE SICK IN ANY WAY OR FASHION???? He’s away on travel. I can’t be there to control anything. What if…what if…what if.
The next minutes I’m pissed. WHY DID HE GET SICK!?! WHY AM I STILL SO SCREWED UP ABOUT IT?!?!?! Why isn’t he screwed up about it at all?
The next minute I’m nervous. I know there are people who judge me about my reactions to this whole thing and even more so for being ‘public’ about it. People I don’t even know in real life!
Then I’m thankful. I’m thankful we have a second chance at…everything.
Then I’m happy. Life is good.
Did I mention this all can happen in the matter of a few minutes? Multiple times a day?
And there are days I don’t even think about any of it anymore.
D-Day in my mind.
I can’t take it back. I can’t change the past. I’m so thankful it’s a distant memory for Dr. Evil. It’s becoming less of a nightmare for me. That sounds dramatic.
There are days I’m dramatic about the whole thing. There are days I refuse to talk about any of it. There are days I don’t shut up about it…even when it’s more than obvious that I should. Many times I’m passive aggressive and super snarky. I know Dr. Evil wasn’t ‘there’ for the worst of it and I was. We did not have the same experience during the same situation.
Not. Even. Close.
I’m not very understanding many times. For a long time he didn’t talk about it at all. Now and again he mentions it. I don’t always know what to do or say and usually end up in defensive mode. I want him to talk about it but then when he does I’m not ‘there’ for him. When I talk about it I feel like I’m annoying him or don’t get the validating I’m seeking about my role the past few years. It’s a weird dance to navigate.
HIs illness and recovery is a part of my reality. But just a part. Not the whole.
And not the most prominent part. Not even close.
But for today…and the next few days….it is.
I’m can’t help it. I’m done apologizing for it. Thanksgiving is hard for me. That seems counterintuitive. I have so much to be thankful for. I have a miracle in my life. I know this. I embrace this. But just a few years ago I spent Thanksgiving Day eating a dinner prepared by friends and family in an ICU meeting room wondering if Dr. Evil was going to live or die. I refused to think or even entertain the possibility of him not making it. But it was a very real possibility.
Today is a day. Just another day. And one day…this anniversary will be just another day. But I kind of hope not. I hope it changes into a day I only rejoice in.
That day will come. I am hopeful. I’m working towards my happy.
I will find it.