The Eldest has finally been referred to UC at Denver’s Heart Transplant Program. Now we wait for them to call and set up an appointment for evaluation. Ninety percent of all medical experience is comprised of waiting. It’s how they screen you out–can you afford (mentally and financially) the endless waiting? Can you go through your daily life tethered to your phone? Are there any circumstances under which you would *not* answer the phone? Prepare yourself now to set down your diva cup and accept the call–you can wash your phone and your hands later.
I’m not kidding.
Waiting also makes my mind race as I try to anticipate what will happen next, and plan for something that, being not a real thing yet, I can’t plan for. Thoughts I’ve had since yesterday while waiting for The Call:
1. I have no stylish winter clothes, I have hardly any unstylish winter clothes for that matter, we live in Southern NM. Am I selfish for thinking about clothes? No, of course not, I do have to wear them, right? Yes. But I can’t buy a wardrobe for Heart Transplant, so what will I do?
2. Does the Eldest have an appropriate coat? Should I buy one now? Should I wait until we get the call? What if the call says, “We reject you out of hand, good bye” then what? We’ll be stuck with a coat, that’s what.
3. What will we do all day for months in Denver if he does, indeed, get on the list and we have to move there? I can’t move my studio to Denver. Right? Will we rattle around a crappy apartment getting on each other’s nerves for months on end?
4. Would it be possible to carefully pack up my entire Poshmark operation and take it with us? Get a little Uhaul and then I could keep making money and have something to do? How would I unload the UHaul? We neither of us can do that. Who would do that? Should my husband and younger son come up to move us in?
5. If that’s possible, surely I could take a sewing machine? Just one. Oh, but wait, what about not having the serger? Is there any project I could complete without the serger? Could I take them both? I would have to do this without forgetting a single thing, because buying redundant supplies would be terrible. What are the odds that we will find an affordable and spacious rental with studio space in Denver? Zero, they are zero, you are insane.
6. If I’m there for months and then I go home for a week for a break, what if he gets a heart while I’m not there? Sure, my mom will be there, but I NEED TO BE THERE. But I also need to take care of myself, I can’t just not go home for like, a year or something. That’s totally unrealistic. But I know how I felt during the Endocarditis and heart valve replacement nightmare, it was all I could do to leave him at night, even.
7. I will kill anyone who gives his worthless POS father money to travel to see him before surgery. That’s terrible of me, what if he needs to see his worthless, POS father? But pay for him? He’s not staying with us, that’s for sure, and he’s one broke dick all the time, he won’t be able to get a hotel. Fucker. If he does you know he will have stolen his mother’s credit card again (she has Alzheimer’s). Bastard. I’m mad just thinking about this. Why am I thinking about this?
8. What about cooking? Will I be the mom servant cooking three meals a day for my adult child? And cleaning up? WTF will that look like? While my family here subsists on the good restaurant across the street and we go broker and broker? Plus I’ll have to cook low salt for the Eldest–my cooking is cemented with fat and salt, that’s the way it works, we can’t possibly manage without butter and salt.
9. I literally have no clothes for harsh winter. It’s already snowing in Denver, for heaven’s sake. I have one snowboarding coat that I got on clearance in AZ when we visited the Grand Canyon during a freak Spring Break snowstorm. I wear it once a year to a friend’s solstice bonfire because it’s not a fashionable party, it’s an outside being cold party. Why am I so narcissistic that I care about how I look? What is wrong with me?
10. Why can’t I stop thinking? My whole life, I’ve been looking for the STFU switch and my brain does not have one. No one has even called yet. Maybe I should call them, will that make them mad? Will we get a demerit right out of the gate? Oh my god, be quiet.
I am sure we won’t hear from them until next week, so who knows what knots I will have tied myself into by then? This is all just so incredibly, unforgiving HARD.