I must admit something to you, dear readers. I have been avoiding you. I can completely say with 100% assurance that it is me. Not you. Things have shattered down around me in the past couple weeks- the culmination of which was yesterday at our first of four specialist doctor's appointments for the twins. It has been a very trying time for me. And for pretty much the first time in my entire life I have wanted nothing more than to simply lock myself in a closet, never to emerge. And that's why I've been "phoning it in." I've let my Reader reach catastrophic numbers, I've been checking only the most vital of emails, and I've done the bare minimum of everything else, just ensuring that people know I'm still alive. I've never felt pain this intense. Which is surprising, because this has been a really crap year for me! Can I give you a piece of advice? Never tell yourself things can't get any worse. That is pretty much daring the universe. You don't want to dare the universe. The universe plays for keeps.
These past two days (has it only been two days?!) have felt like an unbearable eternity. I've dealt with more than my fair share of medical Chutes and Ladders in my little existence. But I have never had a medical professional lay it all out on the table as our first specialist did yesterday. I'm used to being the neurotic mother whom doctors constantly need to reassure that everything is fine. Unfortunately for us, everything does not seem to be fine. We have no answers, yet. A lot of ideas and things to Google (hint: do not Google things. It never turns out well)
I did however, take one of the twins in for lab work today. I saw the look on the lab tech's face. It was pity. There were too many vials to count. I'd seen the names of these tests on shows like House and Grey's Anatomy. (although it was disheartening when one of the techs needed to look up Karyotype)
I know what I am staring down at. The most benign of the possibilities is still a really big deal. Don't get me wrong- I will take it! In a heartbeat I will take the best of the worst scenario! However the diagnostic process turns out, our lives will be forever changed.
That leaves me walking around with a gigantic, yet invisible wound pouring sorrow and pain from my heart. I have been avoiding this, dear readers. If I tell you, then it's real. It's not just something I can store away in my dresser drawer until the next doctor's appointment.
Who am I kidding, I can't do that anyway! I'm a big heap of mess! I simply do not know how to function with the knowledge that my children are fighting something. Something big and scary. Something I have no control over. Something that will remain nameless until all the blood tests are in, all the specialists are seen, and I am presented with a name. A diagnosis. The waiting is all consuming.
Watching my precious little daughters sitting in each doctor's office, Emergency Room, and exam table. It is ripping me apart. The watching. Their ocean blue eyes looking at the doctors, the pretty art on the wall, the florescent lights shining through a picture of clouds, oblivious as to what is really going on. Doctors are the nice fun people we get to meet who have awesome fish in their waiting rooms! It's all an adventure. Then they go back to playing with toys while the grown ups spout their normal boring grown up talk. I am forced to use my sing song voice when all I want to do is collapse on the floor and cry until the tears stop. The tears seem to be never ending. How do these other parents do it? How do you not completely fall apart at times like this?