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Work in Progress

2-08-2016

fridge

 

Sigh….

I’m staring at my fridge, watching all the great and wonderful things we did together. I feel the tears burning in my eyes. I never ever hoped it would ever come to this, but it did.

My rock, my hero, my everything, has been struck down.

With screaming sirens he’s been brought to the hospital because of an almost fatal heart attack.

 

I so much felt the urge to write when my sister brought me home. But now, my head is blank, empty, and my eyes keep watering up. I need to go to bed soon. It’s late in the evening. My head is exploding, but I don’t want to sleep. I didn’t even want to kiss him goodbye when he lay there on the hospital bed all wired up. I just wanted to curl up next to him.

 

This is the part I always feared. When the moment would come where the tables would be turned. Clearly it is much easier to fight pain, beat near death experiences, and all the other crappie things that goes along with being chronically ill. But I have never experienced it from another point of view. Until today. And I suck at it. I cannot bare seeing him like this. And I definitely cannot bare to lose him. I almost did. It scared the hell out of me. It makes me sad, and almost manic depressed thinking of losing him.

 

I hate it when I get lost in my fear. That’s against the Superhero-code. But the only thought that keeps coming back, almost in sync with the beating of my heart, like a theme in a song, ‘What would I do without him. Would I still be as strong as  I am now. Would I still want to go on if he would not be here anymore?’ Writing these words makes me enter the ugly cry and a terrible case of hyperventilation. I am only as strong as I am mainly because of him.

 

Excuse me a second…. I’m blubbering  all over my keyboard….

 

Okay, back…

 

I will try to get some sleep, I am so exhausted…

And my eyelids are so puffed up, I can barely see through them. I will blow my nose just one more time, and then I will focus on the positive side. He’s still here!

 

…I keep waking up crying….

 

The bed is so empty without him. I keep sniffing at his pillow, and checking the phone that I put on his pillow. The hospital hasn’t called, so he must be doing fine. Stop crying then for heaven sake!

 

…..

 

….Can’t sleep anymore. I’m gonna make some tea, and start the day. I can’t wait to go see him, observe his mimic, his eyes, kiss him, and touch him, hold his hand. I will have to go to the doctor myself this afternoon to undergo some tests, which is two floors down, so maybe I could stay with him a little while longer than what’s allowed.

 

I’m so glad Kuzco is such a sweet little boy. He doesn’t leave my side, when I cry he snuggles close to me, lick my tears away, and pushes his little head against my chest when I start to hyperventilate again. It’s still early in the morning, so I think I will make a long walk through the park with Kuzco. There’s going to be a long day ahead of us, and he has to be a good boy watching over Ben, Jools and Bruce today.

It will be good for the both of us. Breath in, and breath out……

 

I can do this.

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