It’s not that I haven’t had things to blog about this week — it’s just that I’ve been feeling a bit…off.
Maybe it’s because DD’s been out of town for work all week, a change of pace from the beginning of our relationship. The first year and a half was spent with him gone almost every week. I got used to it. Developed my own routine.
This year, he’s been home every week. Still working late, but home. And the past 6 months, with me living just a few blocks away, we’ve seen each other nearly every day. We’ve developed a new routine. Together. So having him gone this week has caused my new routine to suddenly go up in flames. I don’t know what to do, where to go, how to be. Odd, but true.
Or maybe it’s the broken toe. It’s in this place where I’m back to walking normally, where there’s not much pain, but not quite to the place where I can get rid of the shoe boot or work out. Which is getting REALLY depressing. I feel so close, and yet so far.
Or maybe it’s the news I got yesterday. News that the prescription assistance I’ve been getting for two of my oh-so-pricey, but oh-so-life-saving transplant medications will run out in a few months. Because I’m a go-getter and got a promotion awhile back, and my income is now too high. Yet, amazingly, not high enough to pay the $10,000 a year that the drugs cost without coverage. Apparently, the drug companies believe otherwise, though.
I’ve got a plan and am fairly confident I will get coverage of some sort that will help me decrease my personal costs. But, it’s still there, a worry in the back of my head.
Maybe, it’s news that the wife of a blogger I read is back on the transplant list. She has the same illness I do, and that illness is the reason we both received kidney transplants. Hers was 11.5 years ago, mine was nearly 6 years ago.
I’ve never met Bob and Jeanne, but things like organ transplants tend to bring you close to those who have gone through it too. So, it’s hard for me to hear this news. Not only am I concerned for her and her family, but stuff like this also reminds me of my own mortality — and the mortality of my transplanted kidney. They don’t last forever, you know, but when you’re a young, otherwise healthy person, you really, really want them to.
I want to get married, have babies, advance in my career, travel, and do nothing but sit on my couch and enjoy the life I have. Will there be time? For the most part, I live in the present and these thoughts don’t often enter my brain cells. But there are times, like this week, when I don’t feel the biological clock tick like so many women my age, but instead I feel the life clock tick. And trust me, that ticking? Is much louder, and much, much scarier.
There’s lots of maybe’s out there, hanging in the air, bringing me down.