12 To 16

If someone you see every week, comments profusely on a jacket that you’re wearing, that you’ve worn regularly for the past year: a) do you assume that she’s just noticing it because you’re wearing it with a different color shirt that is probably making the colors pop more; or b) figure she’s throwing up a straw man to distract you because you asked her two months ago to critique your resume and she still hasn’t gotten to it?
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12 to 16 weeks is a long time. We started talking about the logistics of this endeavor. Last time Nelson had surgery we had a hospital bed in the living room and a bedside commode at first, then he hobbled to the bathroom that was on the first floor. This time he doesn’t want a hospital bed downstairs and besides the bathroom is upstairs. So he’s going to just camp out upstairs where the bathroom is. We have a TV in our bedroom so he’ll be good to go. I guess he’ll get the most out of his Netflicks membership and thank God for basketball and hockey playoffs and the on-set of baseball.
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I’m teaching this week. On the one hand it will be nice to have the distraction, but my heart and head just aren’t in it. I’m thinking about how we’re going to make ends meet. Nelson has been getting 30-40 hours of overtime each pay period--that’s time and a half money. We count on that. Now, he’ll only get a percentage of his base pay from BWC. I offered to take on a real second job (my hours at Curves wouldn’t have counted). He says no and that makes sense since I’ll most likely need to care for him and for Asher in the evenings.

Along with thinking about the money situation, I was conversating with God on my way here about a house. We need to be in a single-story dwelling--but we can’t afford to move right now and we don’t want Beth to feel forced out. Not to mention how hard it is to get landlords to consider renting to me.
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(As I’m starting to type this next section, I feel like one of those cheesy late night commercials: but wait there’s more…)
Yesterday, while Nelson was driving to his doctor’s appointment that is over an hour away, he asked if I would do a little research on the internet to find out what this fluttering light thingy going off in his eye might be. People who get migraines call that an aura and it’s a signal that a migraine is coming on. WebMD also linked this to stroke and epilepsy. This morning while I was driving I began to wonder if it could be a tumor. This aura problem has been going on for over a week. I suggested that he ask the doc about it--perhaps the pain was causing it. My real reasoning was that if he thought it was serious enough to consider perhaps he would encourage hub to get it checked out. Nelson “forgot” to ask.

I’m going to go way out on a limb here (not!) and suggest that he didn’t forget at all. My husband comes from the school of wait as long as you can before you deal with a problem. It’s one of the more frustrating components to his otherwise charming personality. I don’t think he wants to know. But what he doesn’t know might kill him. But if I mention it again: I’m a nag. Guess he’ll just have to deal with that!
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Well, I’m home now. It was a good day teaching. That always helps me with my perspective. I know we’re going to be okay. I still have lots of questions, but I’m not worried. I choose to believe it’s all going to work out. It should be an interesting ride!