I woke up early Monday morning vomiting. I had felt my stomach churning on and off throughout the night and I tried to ignore it. The relief was almost instant when I finally succumbed to the contents of my stomach. I had no doubt my dinner hadn't agreed with me the night prior. But I still felt queasy. Upright on my feet for most of the day was not an option. I decided to lean into it.
Actually, I caved. I crawled in bed with tea and rested. And then I decided to Get Lucky... this... Get Lucky, by Katherine Center.
I read, I laughed, I dozed, and I'd wake up wondering what new adventure was waiting around the corner for Sarah. I devoured this book in one day. I loved turning the page never fully knowing what to expect, but delighting in each new character that came along.
Tuesday, feeling much more like myself, I dug into the day hoping to catch up. In one day I could not believe how much of a disaster the house could become. On a whim I called and invited both my dh and my dd (dear dad) for lunch. Praying my stomach was ready for some "real" food we picked up dad and went to a diner. My stomach fared okay. My dad, however, did not. He is not one to complain and would never pass on an opportunity to go somewhere, but he was not feeling well.
He struggled to walk more than a few feet without completely running out of breath. He ate some of his meal and then pushed it aside in a move that was perhaps the most telling. Dad, to my knowledge, has never left a scrap of food on his plate.
When he struggled walking again back a few feet to the car, I decided to talk with him while we were still in the parking lot. Sometimes, he just needs for us to gently encourage his next move. This time, he didn't wait for me to say anything, he just asked. "Do you have some time you could take me in to the er? I would feel better getting checked out."
So I just decided to lean in again.
We dropped Rick off, picked up my mom, and spent the afternoon in the er. I could not have conjured up a more compassionate doctor. He spent time listening to my dad. He ran all the usual tests- x-rays, blood work, ekg, etc. And while we waited for the results, he read dad's history. I am not kidding when I say he sat at the nurse's station reading the entire 1 1/2 hours we waited.
The tests came back reporting all of the usual underlying conditions. The doctor reassured my dad that he felt all the medications were the right ones, and that the dosages were all correct. He thought my dad's doctor was on top of his care and doing everything in a reasonable manner. It was just clear, dad's congestive heart failure is progressing. It was what we had expected to hear.
I think we were all okay with the news. I felt reassured. I felt heard. I felt like I could continue on. Sometimes, you just have to lean in.
Do you ever just lean in?