Back from I really don't know where

A few weeks ago I was sorely tempted to post this as an entry. "I'm sorry. I'm temporarily out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." Though a feeble attempt at humor, it's actually a fairly accurate statement of my life. Losing my husband has been hard enough, but my run of challenges didn't stop there, and I let them get to me.

Four weeks after R. died, I went to the doctor because I'd passed out several times, including a couple of times at work. My migraines had increased in frequency from a real doozy every few months to several a week. I was having dizzy spells and periods of weakness and numbness in my legs and feet. After ruling out blood pressure, the doctor looked back through my history and saw a note from an MRI last year about white matter lesions in my brain. She sent me back for another MRI to see if there was more scarring now than there was last year. One possibility was Multiple Sclerosis. The scarring had increased so she referred me to a neurologist who couldn't see me until a couple of weeks ago. I basically had to wait all summer to find out that I didn't have MS, and other than stress, we can't pin point a cause for me feeling like garbage most of the time. Right now, I'm waiting on the results of an EEG.

Two weeks after getting that initial scary potential diagnosis, I lost my job. R. had no life insurance, and my steps toward getting my family back to some financial stability were halted. I've been job hunting with no luck yet, and I'm considering moving to another area with a better job base than the absolutely beautiful but economically moribund middle of nowhere.

To ice this cake of self-pity and woe is me, last week, I got pulled over for speeding. When the officer looked up my record, he told me my license had been suspended. I had a ticket last year, and my husband told me that he paid it. There's no record of that, and I can't find the receipt, so, I have two tickets and the fine for having my license reinstated. Until I get that arranged, I'm literally grounded, unable to drive anywhere. That's not a big deal in a city, but there's no public transportation in my small town, and the one taxi we had went out of business last year when the owner retired.

On the up side, the womanchild has started college nearby at Lambuth University. Lambuth is not only convenient, it's an excellent school, ranked in the top 100 Universities by The Washington Post, the Top Tier of Comprehensive Undergraduate Colleges in the South in the U.S. News & World Report Best Colleges magazine and the top 250 Liberal Arts Colleges by I don't remember who. It also has a beautiful campus that looks the way one thinks a college should look -- old brick buildings with columns out front and ivy dappling the walls and a lush green quadrangle. She's commuting three days a week and taking one on line class from a local community college, despite my encouragement to live in the dorm for a fuller college experience and plans to go through sorority rush. My sorority doesn't have a chapter there, but her aunt's does. Whether she pledges any sorority or not or not is up to her, and I'm fine with whatever her decision is. I just want her to go through rush to meet more people. Oh, she also received a generous scholarship.

On the downside, we've fought worse than ever, and after saying that I've permanently damaged our relationship, she's refusing to speak to me.

Largely because of my brother-in-law, tremendous headway has been made in clearing out R.'s compulsively hoarded mess. With rates varying from ten cents to fifty cents per pound, his scrap metal has brought in over a couple of hundred dollars. I can actually park my car in the garage, and hope to have a truly attractive yard within several weeks. The labor has been a challenge, but the really hard part was how many good, bad and terrible memories going through all his stuff brought up. I've found family photos, money, old love letters, mementos of C.'s baby days, Christmas decorations, silver ware and other kitchen goods mixed in with hardware, boxes of papers, and dried up cans of paint. I'm just now getting the courage to go through our closet and sort out his clothes.

To sum things up, I've been lost, sad, angry, frustrated, hurt, tired, confused. I haven't been able to write. Jeez, I haven't even written all my thank you notes yet. The really important ones are the hardest. I've barely been able to think. On a good day, I feel empty. On a bad day, well, we just won't talk about those. BUT, I'm still here. I'm hanging on. I get out of bed (or rather off the couch. I can't stand sleeping in our bed.) every day. I get dressed. I eat. I'm back on Weight Watchers and have lost the weight I regained. Though it feels futile, part of me is still hoping that one day I'll feel better again, and that I'll figure out a way to feel and do better again. I may be down, but the count is still going on, and I'm not throwing in the towel.

mourning, Multiple Sclerosis, speeding tickets, first child in college, clutter, Weight Watchers