What if it happens to me?
Pretty much since the moment I got that call from Cape Cod Hospital to tell me my mom had been rushed to Hyannis while driving to see us for christmas I had the fear that my mom would die and what that would mean. I could never imagine my life much beyond my 20’s. I never fantisized about getting married, having children or anything really. I was a moment to moment kind of gal. Although I pride myself on never being a ‘gal’.
Then my mother died in December of 98…just a tad over a year since I married my sweetheart. (I just wrote sweatheart like 5 times in a row.ha) Then I had the maddening desire to procreate much to my husbands confusion and doubt. We did it. Not really successfully but Spawn was fine after all was said and done and then we tried again. Failing miserably. Then again with perfect success.
I have this unnatural fear that something will happen to my children. I have always had irrational panic attacks of doom. Even when babysitting when I was little. This irrational thought would occur..say, like, um, we are standing near the stove and the baby catches fire and dies…shit like that. Crazy, irrational of course, unless I set the baby on fire which was, thankfully, never part of my freak out. It would play over and over in my head until I had to force myself to stop, STOP! thinking about it. Then, sigh and relief, I was fine. They were fine. I have the same irrational thoughts about my children but now it is shifting over to me.
I know that all medical type students go through every disease process they study and are the hypochondriacs of the highest possible order but I happen to have some shit wrong with me and negligible insurance.
I just found out I have unnaturally high cholesterol and very low HDL (the good cholesterol). I had rheumatic fever as a preteen. I tested postive for several individual markers, but did not have the disease, for genetic types of artery disease.
So now I have been studying our cardiac unit and having chest pain and worrying that what I die and leave my children? That has really fucked me up…you know, my mom dying and all. What if I do that to them? What will happen to D? What will happen to Chica and Spawn? I mean, not literally, because I can think of about 5 people off the top of my head who would do a fabulous job of raising them were I to hand them over and I know that D could do it on his own. He would probably move back to Ptown which is sad but that would probably be what would happen.
Just this morning over oatmeal Chica says to me, “Mama, why come you said that if I need your help in the potty at night that you will come help me but you seem so mad when you come in to wipe my butt? Why did you say it was okay if you are mad at me? You eyes look like dis” She scowls to imitate my night time disdain for wiping her ass.
CRUSHING my soul, if I have one.
I would have never had children had I known the fear of leaving them would do this to me. I would have never had them if I knew how fearful it would make me that something might happen to them. I would have never had them if I knew how much I would love them. I would have never had them if I knew how much they would love me.
ps. wordpress has changed my dashboard and I do not have a spell check anymore, well, one that I can find so , well, my spelling sucks. Extra points to those that don’t point it out. I shall not find a dictionary to blog. blah.