Tag Archive | disappointment

When Disappointment Darkens Your Door

unhappy faceHow do you accept disappointments? Do you have a tantrum like a two year old? Do you yell at someone? Or do you swallow the hurt and deal with it another day?

Let’s face it. Life usually doesn’t fulfill our every expectation. In fact, I have come to the conclusion “life” finds way to stand in the way of most things these days.

Today Ken was supposed to go to his harmony club, and I had plans to see a friend. I haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks, so I looked forward to reconnecting with her. BUT — When I heard Ken hit the bedroom floor, I instantly knew my plans for the day were dashed. I jumped up to see if he was hurt, and God willing he wasn’t. I swear that man has a legion of guardian angels who lay on the floor and break his falls. He hardly ever gets hurt. For me — not so much. About three months ago I leaned over in my office chair to pick up a paper from the floor — and WHAM! The chair slid out from underneath me, and I landed on my tail. I struggled to get up, and for at least a week, I felt like a kid who got hit with a wooden paddle. Anyway, I digress . . . Back to disappointment.

As soon as I expressed my disappointment — like a three year old — not a two year old — I am making some progress on this journey, I hated myself. Here the poor guy is struggling to pull himself up to stand and get into his wheelchair, and I’m cranking about my plans changing. What a bitch, right?

Well, yes. I’m a bitch –sometimes. But I never understood why a crabby women is named after a female dog. There I go again  . . . digressing.

I think it is important to express anger in a controlled way. Just like every process, care giving has it’s frustrations and disappointments –not to mention fear of what else is down the road. I know where I am with Ken is pretty stable for now, but the unknown future scares the life out of me. People say I shouldn’t borrow trouble. And they’re right. I shouldn’t think about what MIGHT happen and I should deal with the challenges as they appear. But that’s easier said than done.

When I’ve taken the appropriate amount of time to digest this disappointment, I will be my old self again. I’ll wear a smile and when asked how I am, I’ll say, “I’m fine.” After all, most people expect that response. They certainly don’t want a blow by blow of a disappointment that only changed my plans.

A Quiet 4th of July

world_spinningKen’s Multiple Sclerosis is a puzzling disease. Everyday is a surprise. Neither of us know whether he’ll have a day free of fatigue or one that is full of it. We hope the different holidays throughout the year will end  up being good days, but as time goes on, we’ve learned MS doesn’t care if we have plans or not.

The Fourth of July this year was a particularly bad day for him. In fact, he fought to keep his eyes open–literally. Not that he was tired. The muscles in his eye lids refused to work, no matter how hard he tried to fight them.

Needless to say, the downtown parade was out. He made me go to lunch at a friend’s home because we are invited every year, and she was expecting us. By evening, he still wasn’t feeling well enough to watch the fireworks–not even on television.

The day was a wash for him. I found myself very angry at the cruelness of his disease because no matter what he feels or thinks, the disease calls the shots. I suppose any serious diseases has the say-so too, but I’m not living with them. I am living with this. I want to shout, “It’s unfair!”

But this thing we call the human condition is not fair. We both accept this fact, so when these days come along, he rests, and I keep quiet and read. It’s called coping. It’s called love.Blog 3-31 003