…but don’t you quit

September 11, 2021

Reader beware:

My rose-colored glasses have gotten all fogged up; this post may be rather more raw than my usual style.

Twelve days ago I made a few phone calls, shopping insurance prices, as I periodically worry about the precarious position we are in. The last few years, though, have made me question my old ideas of insurance and stability; when in between coverage, we realized that we had managed to keep ourselves so healthy that we weren’t sure the cost of coverage was worth it when we had no ongoing health expenses. But I work in healthcare, and part of what I do is make insurance calls on behalf of patients; so I started to poke around, clarifying that we really only needed it in case of something “catastrophic.” Too late for that, eh?

I should say “it could be worse.” 

I should be reassured by the surgeon’s report that it went well. But my mind fastens onto the word “think,” when he was predicting the success of the reattachment.

I should be relieved that Peter is now healing from the surgery. But I cannot push away the fear of the process ahead of us, and the worry that it will not work—that the finger will be lost.

I should rest in the comfort of the fact that we are together, that we are safe. But I find it easy to drift into overwhelm.

I should …

This morning I went for a long walk with a friend. As we talked, I heard the words coming out of my mouth, and I realized that this experience is bringing up the anger I feel about the systems in place. I think of the way this country approaches care for the elderly. I think of the way healthcare expenses make proper care not only difficult to get, but truly inaccessible for some. It just feels so wrong. And I don’t know what to do about it. 

When I was young, I inadvertently memorized a poem that hung on the wall in my Oma’s dining room. The author was not listed, so I would imagine it to be the anonymous doing of one of my aunts or uncles. Later in life, however, I saw the same poem in different places…though I suppose that does not necessarily preclude the penmanship possibility 😉 

It was not so much my love of the poem itself that drew me to it; even back then my literary sensibilities found it questionable. I also didn’t understand why grownups, with all their apparent ability to do it all, and take care of everything, could feel like that.

I get it now.

When things go wrong as they sometimes will.

When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill.

When the funds are low and the debts are high.

And you want to smile but you have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must …

One Response to “…but don’t you quit”

  1. Dan Elyea said

    So expressive . . . your face in this photo. Speaks volumes. Love it. Best wishes to hubby on full recovery.

    Blessings and love, Dan

    Sent from Mail for Windows

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