I have been online for about 4 hours now, and I can’t even begin to tell you how ridiculously my time has been wasted.
They say the internet is a rabbit hole; you never really know where you’ll end up. It’s almost like those old Family Circle comics (yes, I am that old) where the little boy is given a task, and he ends up running all over the house, getting caught up in random things.
That’s me and my anxious brain. I have the forethought of a hamster most days. But I wasn’t always like this. (Well, not this bad, I should say.)
Tonight, I had great intentions. I started with my email, which then led to EventBrite to see a workshop I was interested in attending. From there, I looked up the artist on her Twitter page, and then Pinterest to see her work. Few minutes there, scrolly scroll. Like that, Pin this and then…
NO! Bad Kristina! Back to your email!
Then I get back on track for a bit. Reply to a few emails. Hit “unsubscribe” to the cluttered inbox junk I am drowning in. I Google a few things that have been on my never ending list of “Things I Need to Research” and off we go on another dotted line adventure!
And that’s when I have a night to myself. It’s a whole other gong show when you throw in the unpredictable demands of a medically complex three-year-old and a seven-year-old with ADHD worse than her mothers.
It seems so futile. I know it’s painful to watch (Drew likes to tell me all the time.) But can you imagine how infuriating it is when it’s your own damned behavior?!
But here’s my thoughts on this erratic way of living.
For months on end, our little family lived on the premise that our world as we knew it could be destroyed. There was no stability, no permanence. We could depend on nothing, except for constant change. Every time Sam would make some gains, he would acquire some other complication that needed more meds, more care, more time in hospital.
We stopped making plans; we stopped planning for discharge. I learned never to make promises to Katie as I couldn’t bear breaking her heart. Urgent appointments would pop up all over the calendar in a matter of minutes. Trips to the doctor sometimes ended in a request for bloodwork or other testing. A one-hour appointment could turn into 5 hours lost in the clinics and hallways of ACH. Or more often, we were admitted.
I hate being unprepared and it seems as if that is all I can depend on with our current situation.
So how do I head back into the world of organization and scheduling? The only schedules I follow rigidly are medications and school. I am proud of myself if I can walk back into the house after dropping Kate off and not feel as though it was ransacked while I was away.
Other than what needs to happen, like meals or meds, it’s a free for all. And that is indescribably taxing. On most nights, I wish we all had g-tubes because I usually forget meals too.
Thank God for Drew. For 95% of the time, he is the patient one who deals with all our nonsense and still makes it look easy. The other 5%, well, let’s just say he still gets things done, but maybe not with the sunshiniest attitude.
So now it’s 3 am. The sleep deprivation probably isn’t helping either.
But look! I accomplished something tonight that needed doing. Yay me!