That’s right, there’s a lot going on, and I know you are wondering how I’m doing and whether I’ve returned to writing. I’m sorry, the answer is no.
However, I’m feeling better emotionally. My life partner’s condition shocked me to the core. Over the last couple of months, I’ve worn many hats; full-time home caregiver, advocate, transportation driver, contractor, cook, cleaner, housekeeper, and a host of other tasks, including wiping the ass of my loved one. Sorry, honey, it’s what I do.
Mind you. I hate being a full-time home caregiver. I hate it. According to my counselor, it’s a healthy attitude. She even said, “No one likes being a home caregiver.” I smiled. Yet, there is one and only one reason I do it, which I told her out-of-town daughters. I do it because I love her. Also, there is no one else to do it.
In the months since the diagnosis, a lot has transpired. Some of it was to improve her quality of life, and some to make the house safer and more accessible. To get her the services she needs, including therapy, and signed up for Medicaid. The therapy is helping her move better and lets her feel better. All of which makes me feel better.
Everyone is going through a lot. I know that. I am not alone in that. The one thing I do know is that no matter how bad it gets for me, there is always someone else worse off.
I’m starting to feel better and I’m anxious to get back to writing. This blog entry is my first attempt at writing. I can feel my creative juices starting to flow. I also started sketching. It’s nothing to sneeze at, but I’m trying. I am trusting myself to take control of my life and my creative process, preferably soon.
Hopefully, I am getting back into the swing of things. I should have published my latest book by now. I feel bad about that. All I can tell you is that I’m trying. I’m doing my best. Wish me luck.
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