Monday, April 7, 2014

Green and Gray

     We were really hoping, my husband and I, that his visit to the neurologist last week would shed some light on what the hell is happening with his spine. I mean, we know there are cyst(s?) just chillin' in his spinal column, like they belong there. Supposedly, they're benign for now, which is a good thing, but how long until they stop being benign and turn into something more sinister? Or, if not full-on sinister, at least more of a problem? That, plus the nerve damage in his feet and legs that was discovered during the same twelve-day hospital stay, was the major reason he was going to see a neuro. Also, it was somewhere he hadn't been before, somewhere new, somewhere that might have some useful information for us. As it turns out, not so much.

     It doesn't feel like a huge, crushing blow or anything, knowing that the only thing the doctors were able to say was, "Nothing we can do, come back in a year and we'll take another look." In fact, it was pretty much what we were expecting. Well, it's what he was expecting. I was still hopeful that something good would come of it, something that would provide us with some guidance. If absolutely nothing else, some exercises that he could do to help alleviate what's becoming an ever-present pain throughout his back. Nope, not this time.

     The weirdest, and most telling, part of it for me is that I really don't have much to say about it. I haven't thought that much about it since my husband told me what happened, probably because I knew it was coming. I feel now like that's what we're going to get, a holding pattern, until something gives in a really, really bad way. It's not a bad thing, not a good thing - it's not anything, really. That's probably why I get frustrated, though even though that's a fading sensation where the Marfan's is concerned.

     I have no idea if that means I'm learning to accept its presence in our life, or if it's apathy creeping in. That would suck, seriously suck, if it's the latter, but then again, maybe apathy would provide some relief for awhile. We both get burned out by navigating the highs and lows, and speaking for myself only, I know I'm hitting the wall more frequently and intensely than I used to. I talked to my husband about it last night on the way home from his parents' house and he asked if I wanted to talk to a counselor or something, but I really don't feel that's the answer. I have plenty of coping mechanisms in place, good ones, and they do exactly what they're supposed to do.

     Maybe what I need is a lull, the aforementioned holding pattern, to let it settle in my brain and allow a reset. I mean, no one can sustain a bullet-train brain for an interminable length of time without feeling the effects sooner or later. I like that imagery, the train; that's the best way to describe what it feels like lately. It's not a blurred ball of thought, it's very linear, one point to the next. The problem comes in when I take one issue and connect to the next, which leads to the logical consequence of said problem and then I'm suddenly leaving the station at 120 mph with no brakes. Stopping that shit is exhausting, let me tell you.

    Alright, so let's go this route for awhile. Neither of us was upset by the lack of answers, the waste of time that this visit was - it barely registered on the radar and it felt okay to let it stay that way. Maybe this is how we find the balance, maybe we let it ride.