lessons learned

4.20.2011

I went to the doctor on Monday. It’s been 4.5 months since I had abdominal surgery—the day before Derek’s hospitalization—and I’d still not gone for a follow up appointment. I knew that my doctor would have tracked me down if she found any significant problems during surgery. Since I hadn’t heard from her, and I had healed without time to even think about it, I wasn’t feeling any rush to see her. But I finally decided I ought to check this one off my to-do list, so I went for a visit. As I walked into the hospital for my appointment, I suspected that my subconscious had been very purposeful in its avoidance of this exam. The morning of my surgery, December 3, was the last time that Derek and I spent together before this whole ordeal began. I remembered him having a bad headache that morning, but taking me for my surgery, and snuggling under a heated blanket on my gurney with me for an hour during my pre-op preparations. I have little recollection of the remainder of the day, and the following day he was hospitalized.

The appointment on Monday was difficult, too, because during my surgery, among other things the doctor had placed an IUD to help with bleeding problems I’ve been having. (How’s THAT for personal?!) Derek and I had so much been looking forward to some resolution of this problem, and a return to more energy and less pain for me when that happened. Two weeks ago my bleeding finally subsided…and Derek hasn’t been here to enjoy that with me. I was in tears almost non-stop for the first five days after this happened. During my follow-up exam, I found myself talking with my doctor about this, about our seemingly successful use of the IUD for the purposes we’d intended—and then, very tentatively and tearfully, asking her to explain to me how an IUD works for actual birth control, assuming that I have a partner again one day. Even thinking about any sort of intimacy with someone other than my husband was more than I felt I was ready for, but talking to my doctor about this seemed like the “grown up” thing to do.

“Grown up” is very tiring some days. I made it through that exam, got in my car, and had a good cry on my way to my carefully scheduled therapy appointment! We watched some videos of Derek and the kids, then talked about the life I lost and the life I want back and the new life I’m going to have to create.

“Life is a journey, not a destination.” I used to like that saying. These days? The journey, this creation of a new life, seems a long one. I’m both proud of my accomplishments since Derek’s death and very sad—each one feels like one step further away from Derek and the life we had together. I don’t want to be on this journey—if I can’t go back in time, I at least want time to stand still, so that I don’t lose any more of Derek. And it’s hard to take a journey without some sort of destination in mind, but I simply feel like I’m wandering aimlessly. My husband died three months ago today, and I still can’t fathom that, and still can’t imagine building a life without him.

I currently have a new favorite quote. “Bad times have a scientific value. These are occasions a good learner would not miss”. --Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m a good learner. Derek always appreciated that! So I’m learning from these bad times. I am literally learning, as I begin some coursework next week and as I prepare to go back to school full time. I am, of course, learning in my daily tasks--how to maintain a water softener, how a home-made biofilter on a fishtank works, how my solar hot water system operates, and a million other things I never wanted to know! And I am learning to be more observant, more appreciative, more patient, more grateful. I’m learning to be less critical, less judgmental, less resentful, less frustrated. I’m learning that I’ll have rough moments, and that they’ll continue to happen frequently, but that there will be moments of joy and laughter and beauty in between that make them tolerable. What more can any of us ask for?!