Sorry I've been so quiet lately. Things have just been, well, slow. I've been working a lot and taking care of Mr. Food Musings, and in between doing all that I've either been calling up for take-out or making old standbys: spaghetti and meatballs on Sundays, soups and sandwiches galore, and lots of baked potatoes topped with broccoli and cheddar cheese. But I figured that if I can't regale you with zesty bites of food and fun new restaurant discoveries, maybe I owe you an update on life.
Mr. Food Musings' fall was now 73 days ago. That's 2 months and counting. He's doing better, but he's not himself. Most days we strive to do two things: go for a walk, maybe two (rain, rain, go away...) and see a movie. Then there are appointment days, which happen about 3-4 times a week. That's when we pay a visit to the neurologist, physical therapist or his friendly neighborhood acupuncturist (okay, she's not officially in the 'hood but she's moving soon -- yay!).
Then there are the Dark Days. Days so bad that he doesn't get out of bed until the sun has gone down and come back up once more. Days that suck the hope from every corner and cubby-hole, rooting it out from hiding places you didn't know you had. These are the days that try men's souls, my friends.
I've been sort of quiet about the whole thing lately because the truth is people want a happy ending. (I know I do.) When friends call and ask how he is, I know what they want me to say: "He's much better." And what I've learned about myself is that telling people how things really are, when they aren't very good, makes everything worse. It makes the person on the other end of the line feel awkward and scared and weary, and it makes me feel like the chasm that was already there between me and the rest of the world just got a little bit wider.
So mostly I stick to my lines.
"He's improving."
"We're seeing steady progress."
"It's slow but he's getting there."
All of those things are true, mind you. He is getting better. It's slow, big-hand-on-the-clock-that-doesn't-seem-to-move slow -- but it's there. It's just not life changing yet.
There are days when we're both pretty upbeat. And my life has returned to normal. Sort of. To a new normal, I guess. I go to the grocery store, I cook dinner, I work. Every now and then we have friends over for dinner. I'm mostly okay, I'm sometimes giddy and I'm definitely hanging in there. I'm just tired, and I'd like my happy ending now. NOW. Please? So if any of you have God's ear or could sprinkle a little fairy dust our way, please do. Until that happens, I guess we'll just keep waking up, hoping for spring.
Don't feel obligated to be positive all the time. Otherwise we'll really have reason to worry!
p.s. I'm heading back to TJ's tomorrow if you want to put in an order...
Posted by: Amy | April 09, 2006 at 07:07 PM
Catherine - I think you are the most wonderful person for not being too stoical over this whole thing. Of course we want him to be better, but we really appreciate it when you tell us the truth, however ugly it is, and I can't thank you enough for having done that for us, and for allowing us to help you. I have house guests from England this coming week but the week after I will get in touch and see if there is anything I can do for you.
xxx
Posted by: sam | April 09, 2006 at 09:02 PM
I'm workin' on it with the whole fairy dust thing (Jon, too). You are amazing, and you are my hero. As soon as I return, I think we may need some more chocolate. Or drinks.
Posted by: Joy | April 10, 2006 at 07:31 AM
Hello, friends o'mine -- thank you. Amy -- you are my TJ queen. Sam -- did I make it sound dire? It's not. We're fine. Just want him to get better, dammit! Joy -- chocolate and drinks are ALWAYS good, my dear. Enjoy Tahiti and have a mai tai for me!
Posted by: Catherine | April 10, 2006 at 08:46 AM
Warm, dry, healthy thoughts from the Midwest! I've been wondering how you and Mr. FM are coping with your 'new normal.'
Posted by: Tracy | April 10, 2006 at 10:04 AM
I wish I had fairy dust but I'm not religious I'm afraid. I dont know if it makes you feel any better but your story reminds me that I have to appreciate things much more, the fact that I can get out of bed and dash around and do crazy bike rides and all kinds of stuff. My husband fell over in the shower recently and banged his head and thankfully just needed patching up and was fine, but it was a reminder of how quickly things can change.
Thanks for the update, I think of you a lot and visit hoping that things are getting a bit better, I'm glad they are and I hope it continues albeit a bit slow.
Posted by: jenny | April 10, 2006 at 10:05 AM
Thank you for sharing this part of your life with your readers. This too shall pass.
I'll offer some special prayers this Holy Week for you and Mr. FM.
Posted by: Karen | April 10, 2006 at 10:34 AM
Catherine,
My best wishes are with you both. Let me know if there is anything I can do. Curry delivery next time I'm up in the city?
all the best,
Pim
Posted by: Pim | April 10, 2006 at 02:29 PM
Tracy -- at least yesterday was sunny! Today it's back to heaving raindrops.
Jenny -- you and your husband are very fortunate. It's so strange how life takes a turn in the smallest of moments. John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." Indeed.
Karen -- Thank you. All the good wishes we can get can't hurt, right?
Pim -- You are kind to offer to help and we both appreciate it so much. We'd be foolish to turn down a curry offer from Ms. Pim, but I don't want you to feel you have to go out of your way in the least.
Posted by: Catherine | April 11, 2006 at 09:04 AM
From my own experience the truth is more informative than passive remarks. Saving others from being uncomfortable and weary is not my job, it just can't be.
I was worried about being candid and real on my own site and for all the nervousness I must say that people appreciate being let in. Others only know that help is needed when calls are put out.
Thank you for being brave and for reminding us all that health is not a given. My thoughts are with your household and I look forward to the possibility of meeting you this summer.
Posted by: shuna fish lydon | April 12, 2006 at 12:46 AM
Hugs to you and your hun, Catherine. I've been through my own trials and tribulations in the past so I empathize with the mentions of 'chasms' and people wanting happy endings. You are both in my thoughts and prayers.
Posted by: Nerissa | April 12, 2006 at 10:51 PM
SFL -- thank you for your reassurances. Right now I'm trying so hard to focus on the moment (if it sucks, it'll pass; if it's great, it's worth reveling in) that summer feels centuries away! But I look forward to meeting you, too, and to the dawning of a new season, any season at all.
Nerissa -- thank you for the hugs. Can never get enough.
Posted by: Catherine | April 12, 2006 at 11:01 PM
You know, I wish I lived near you because I always cook waaaay too much for myself and end up with leftovers for weeks. I would happily have brought over extras so you can have one load off your weary shoulders.
Like everyone else here has said, we don't expect you to be stoic and tell us pleasant little platitudes. We're big girls (and some guys) and we can take it. Just wish I could help you in some way. Will be going to church (the one of three times I go in a year) tomorrow so I'll say a prayer for Mr Food Musing and you. Take care and big hugs.
Posted by: MM | April 13, 2006 at 02:11 AM
MM -- you are very kind to offer up your prayers and we welcome any and all!
Posted by: Catherine | April 13, 2006 at 10:17 PM
Hi Catherine--I have been immersed in my own work drama lately, but have been thinking of you two, wondering and hoping that things were on the mend. I'm sure that process feels like it can never be going fast enough.
Please do let me know if you need anything. Amy may be the TJ Queen, but I make a pretty convincing TJ princess (or illigetimate heir to the throne at least).
Posted by: Tea | April 14, 2006 at 03:30 PM