On Loneliness and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

As I write this it has been one week and one day since my husband went into a crisis support unit here in town. It was snowing the night that he got evaluated so he didn't get taken to the unit that night. They came and helped transport him the next day. This is a good thing. My husband has severe depression. Severe enough that he has several suicide attempts under his belt and several hospitalizations.

Four days after that he went into the hospital. Again, a good thing. I fought for him to get that. His psychiatrist, who I think is a smarmy bastard, hadn't even contacted the csu to find out how he was until I called and complained about it. I shouldn't have been surprised, since this is the same man who changed my husband's meds and then scheduled an appointment for 2.5 months. Seriously? Who does that?

For 18 months we have been trying to get my husband ECT. We saw this same doctor over the summer. He said that my husband wasn't a good candidate, which, in my non-medical opinion, was utter bullshit. Three separate doctors, including 2 other psychiatrists, said that he was a good candidate. The only problem with them was the fact they didn't prescribe it. Dr. McSmarmy is the only doctor in our town to do that. The next nearest are an hour away, in separate directions.

He ended up with this doctor as his psychiatrist because our previous doctor's office closed. This guy was the only person in town to take my husband's insurance.  Again, the next nearest one who had any openings was an hour away. We don't have a car, and that is just too far. We do have medical transportation, but still.

Anyhow, back to Tuesday. We went to the doctor's office, again it was snowing. We live in what I lovingly call the Great White North. I love it, but winters are long and snowy and cold. Tuesday was both. I went in loaded for elephant, and wanted to get him in the hospital for closer observation. I would have been happy for med adjustment, even though no meds work, or don't work for long. We have tried them all. Miracle of miracles, his doctor suggested the ECT.

He had his first treatment today. He will have around 10 treatments in the next 3 weeks. After than he will start going out towards a maintenance treatment. That's once every month, but we will build up to that point. This is a good thing. After 18 months, clearance from a cardiologist, which included a heart catheterization a year ago, another cold day. There were also the 2 different neurologists we saw. Hours of driving all over the state, hours of tests and procedures, only to get told no. It was frustrating. I could see my husband just collapse onto himself. And finally, finally, we have succeeded. I can't help but think about how different our lives would have been if he had this done 18 months ago. We are both hoping that this will be very successful and that our lives will be different. I have known this man for 17 years. For most of them he has been depressed, sometimes more than others.

I was at the hospital this morning after his treatment. He was coherent and no short term memory loss, which can occur. This isn't your daddy's shock treatment. There have been huge strides. He won't end up like McMurphy from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, great movie, see it if you haven't.

That is a lot of exposition to get to the actual meat of this post, and if you have read this far I owe you cookies. That is actually loneliness. The first few days of him being gone I got some space. Our apartment is tiny. There is no space for the three of us to get away from each other. Since we have to walk to get anywhere and my husband and I both have physical limitations we don't go a lot of places in the winter. We have had entirely too much togetherness. I enjoyed the hours to myself while our 15 year old went to school. He has been a clingon while his dad was gone. But today, I realized that the house was too quiet. It's already been too quiet at nights without his CPAP machine. I didn't sleep well the first few nights, and now I've gotten somewhat used to it, but it is still too quiet at 3 am.

I realized last night that I miss having him next to me in the middle of the night. Don't get me wrong, having the entire bed to myself, well myself and the three cats who own us, is nice. But, reaching out in the middle of the night and touching him is reassuring. I miss that when he is gone.

Dr. McSmarmy is talking about sending DH home on Monday after his next treatment. DH and I talked about it after his treatment today. We would both like him to stay in the hospital for another week. Dr. McSmarmy tried to blow off DH's opinion. Oh hell to the no. That won't happen when I am around. Maybe I will start going to all his appointments with the doctor now that I have seen how DH is treated. Although he tries to condescend to me. Yeah, keep that up and I will shove Dr. McSmarmy's overly whitened teeth down his throat. Politely of course, since DH asked me to be polite.

It isn't that I don't want him to come home or that he doesn't want to come home. He's bored out of his mind. We are just worried about him and his well-being. And when he comes home, I will be happy, at least until we spend too much time with each other again.

Some thoughts on faith

The blog I published earlier has had me thinking about faith.

Faith is a funny word. It means so many different things. I went to Google and said define:faith. I got a lot of interesting definitions. One was a list of fictional nations from Gundam SEED. Another was a band in the early years of American Punk. The closest definition to what I grew up with was this one "a strong belief in a supernatural power or powers that control human destiny; "he lost his faith but not his morality"".  That's close, but not quite right. This is the one I grew up with "Faith is to hope for things which are not seen, but which are true."

So, those definitions are great and all. But, what do they really mean? The word gets used in so many different ways. I have faith in my team, my family, my friend. I'm a member of the LDS faith. I have faith in God. I have listened to Faith No More. If you are a cheating spouse you are faithless. If you are a Marine, you are Semper Fidelis, always faithful, Semper Fi.

Faith is all those things and more. And yet, we still haven't truly nailed down what faith is. Some words have a very concrete definition. If I say "cat", you know that I am speaking of a feline. A lion is always a lion, a tiger is always a tiger. But is faith always faith?

Part of what makes the definition of faith so slippery is that faith can't be pinned down. You can't quantify faith, you can't take it out and weigh it, measure it and give it percentages. You can make faith grow or shrink. Your actions can cause people to have more or less faith in you. You can do things to make your faith in God increase or decrease. But you can't say I have 3 pounds of faith today.

The reason I have been thinking of this is because good things have been happening today. A corner has been turned and I have faith (see there it is) that it will be good. I am hoping for it to be true. I was sustained by my faith in God today, which I can't see, but I know is true. I was also sustained by the faith my friends have in me. They knew that I can do it and so I can. It seems that while faith may have a lot of definitions and many contexts and uses, it isn't something that we can do without.

Is the definition of faith something that is highly subjective and personal, or is there one definition and then we all shade it by our experiences? When you hear the word faith, what do you think of?

How Do You Carry On?

Do you ever wonder what you will do when you reach the breaking point? What happens when you get to the point where one more thing, even the smallest thing, not even a straw but just a grain of sand puts you so far over the edge that you just sit and start crying? How do you get up and carry on when you feel like you are shattered into a million pieces or that you are stretched so thin that there just isn't anything at all left?

It is more realistic to keep going or just sit down and realize that there is nothing else left for you to do and give up your burdens? What happens when you realize that there is no one else who can pick them up for you, do you have to pick them back up and shoulder them and hope they get better? Do you feel like Atlas with no Hercules to trick into shouldering the world for you?

These aren't idle questions. These are the things that come to me at 3 am in the long dark teatime of my soul (apologies to Douglas Adams, read him if you haven't). The reason that these things come to my mind is because recently I've been going through a really hard time. Things in  my personal life have been in great turmoil for the past week. I was getting a handle on them, until yesterday. Yesterday was the one more thing. The straw that made the camel fall to her knees. There was too much for me to deal with.

Last night I questioned whether I could pick up and go on.  I wasn't sure that I could. I wasn't sure that I really even wanted to. I started looking around for my Hercules. And I didn't find him. I realized that there is no one who can pick up my burden and shoulder it. That means if it has to be carried I have to be the one to carry it.

I was raised thinking that God won't give me more than I can handle, and that if He wants me to do it, He will provide a way. Yesterday, when I reached the point that I was done, that I wanted to tell Heavenly Father enough already, I was reminded of the refiner's fire. We go through what we go through to make us a stronger person, to make us better. He gives us what we can handle, and maybe just a little more to make us stronger, to put us through that fire. The refiner's fire isn't there to make the metal brittle and breakable, it is there to burn away the dross, the impurities. It actually strengthens the metal. My trials actually strengthen me. Do I like them? No. Do I want them to stop? Yes, I really do. Do I see the benefit of them? Yes I do. I wouldn't be me without the struggles and trials and the one more thing. It has taken all of that to make me the person I am, a person who can fight through and find a way.

So, this morning, I pick up the world. I stand as Atlas, because I am the only one who can carry my burdens.  I am the one who needs this particular fire, and I am going to come out stronger on the other side. As Neitzsche said, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I am also reminded that though I have to carry my burden, my globe, because no one else can, I don't do it all alone.