Feeling Helpless

First of all – yay! – I got the job. I have orientation tonight and start training next week. Which is awesome, since Saturday is my birthday and I have plans for both Friday and Saturday nights but didn’t want to start off the new job saying “by the way…” I’m a little nervous, since I haven’t done any actual waitressing for like, oh, ten years or so, but I’m pretty sure it’s like riding a bike (something else I haven’t done in ten years or so – bad analogy for me, I guess!). In any case, keep your fingers crossed for me, because I need the extra cash to save for a new car. What? Why do I need a new car, you ask?? Next blog, I promise. Because today I have something major on my mind.

I’m sure all of you out there have someone special in your life. Not necessarily a significant other, I’m talking about someone (be it a relative, friend, co-worker, etc.) who you just click with – someone you can talk to about anything, someone you know will ALWAYS be there for you when you need them and vice versa. Someone who can make you laugh when you are pissed off at the world, and someone you can make laugh as well. Someone you just know would never judge you, who you feel so damn comfortable with you know you would be lost without. Maybe you see and talk to that person all the time, maybe not as much as you’d like, but either way, just knowing they are out there is sometimes enough.

Now imagine that person taking a loaded gun and putting it to their head in a game of Russian Roulette.

I apologize for the harshness of this – but it needs to be said. My someone special (who I know is reading this) is doing just that. And I can’t even bring myself to think of what my life and the lives of the rest of her family and friends will become when she loses the “game.” Which is what it is to her right now. She may not have an actual gun to her head, per se, instead she is messing with her heart. And not in the emotional sense, either. Her doctors have been asking – no, begging – her to have additional tests run… saying she is at risk of a major heart attack or stroke if she doesn’t find out what is going on with her ticker. She’s already had one scare, and I’m so afraid the next one will be much more than just a scare.

Right now, her excuse is that she wants to wait until her husband has his procedure – not too far off, but with the heart, every second counts. And as serious as his procedure is, even the doctors say her condition is much more serious and life-threatening.

But I know what the problem is. She is scared. No, she is terrified. And she should be. Although she shouldn’t be afraid of finding out what is wrong, she should be afraid of what will happen if she doesn’t. I love her so much, it is killing me knowing that she would rather hide than face reality.

And it is pissing me off. Because she is being selfish, too. She is putting her fears ahead of her health and totally disregarding everyone else’s fears – the fear that she will die if she doesn’t listen to the doctor. And you know what? To me, that is just as bad as suicide. If you ignore the medical help being offered and just wait for that one twinge, or that one gasp for breath – you are in essence just slowly killing yourself. And guess what? Been there, done that. Thought about it, tried it, changed my mind. Know why? Because I couldn’t imagine how the people left behind would deal. Yup, conceited me thought my loved ones might be a bit upset at my passing – and thank God I chose that moment to start being a bit more unselfish. When I think of all I would’ve missed had I succeeded twenty-some odd years ago… It gives me the chills. And makes me a lot less tolerant of people who think they don’t matter and would be better off gone.

I don’t know what to say or do to convince her to listen to the doctors, get the tests run – do whatever they say. She is a grown woman and has her own mind and can make her own decisions. But for me, it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m waiting for a phone call telling me she is in the ER, or worse, the morgue. And I can’t even imagine dealing with that – now or ever. I know eventually I probably will, but what’s the rush? I’m expecting at least a good twenty or forty more years together – and if we make it much past that, then we can find our cliff.

I love you so much. But dammit – you know you can’t jump without me.