Down, But Not Out

So that last post was a little heavy right? Yeah, but it made me feel better. I hadn't written about it or journaled in any way since it happened. So here we are in 2010. Mom had been having migraines without any kind of relief for a while. She lost vision for a little while in her left eye, like so blurry all she could do was lay down because she couldn't see to walk. So she decided that a doctor appointment was more than necessary to see what was going on. She had her first MRI on January 8. On January 11, the doctor called with the results. She had several areas of bleeding on her brain. On January 12, they called to schedule another MRI, this one with contrast to see if they could narrow down the cause of the bleeds. January 14 the new MRI was done and the results were promised by noon on Friday. At least we didn't have to go the weekend wondering. The doctor's office did call as promised, but the person with the chart had no idea how to read the chart and said they would have to get back to her. Wow. So why didn't someone qualified to read it make the first call? Anyway, someone with knowledge of what they were looking at did finally call. Multiple Sclerosis. It explains a lot of symptoms Mom has had over the past several years believe it or not. Not the best news, but not devastating either. I react to serious information like this (and like the situation with my Dad) by arming myself education on the topic. I have not had any kind of emotional reaction. I am not deep in despair, I am not crying my eyes out, I am not feeling sorry for her or for me, and I am not wallowing in any kind of variation of the above. I just don't do that. I don't know how to be any different. I guess it comes from marrying someone who has a terminal illness that changes your outlook on how you process serious information. When John and I started dating and he felt like things were getting more serious, he told me about his CF (Cystic Fibrosis). I went home and searched the Internet for more information. Funny thing about it, John did not make it out to be very serious at all. I don't know if he was trying to protect me or was afraid if I really knew how bad it could be (and that his brother had just recently passed from the same disease at age 25) I would walk away. So when I looked up the information for myself, I was scared to death! The median age for survival in 2001 was 35 I think. Now, take the fact you are contemplating spending the rest of your life with someone, you are 22 years old and you just found out they may or may not live past 35. That sent me into emotional overload. From that point forward I went to every doctor appointment he had, every annual visit which was more in depth, and kept up with his care daily. I was paranoid. It wasn't doing me any good, so I changed. I quit going to his regular check-ups. No need. I went to his annual visits if my work schedule (when I was working) permitted it. I no longer remind him to take this or that treatment. I am not in control. God is in control and I have to resign myself to that. So now I am a former freak out emotionally because that is a natural reaction person. I instead gather my thoughts, gather my information, process it all and react from there. I am getting knocked down a lot these past few months, but I am most certainly not out.