To Travel…
… or not? That was the question.
When you “live in chronicity” (or parent someone who does), you exist somewhere between those people who can make plans and keep them and those forced to mark every “commitment” down in pencil. For example, I recently took a trip out West to visit another CF care center (details to come soon). Up until the very moment I left for the airport I couldn’t be sure whether or not I would be able to go. Would Allison be able to hold out until her doctor’s appointment on Tuesday (and is it okay for me to not go, and send my husband instead?), or would all hell break loose before then? Obviously, my choice would be to stay with her when I know that she needs me, but given the bigger picture, and the task that lay before me on my trip, that was ultimately for her benefit as well. (Okay, I’ll admit a sanity break was in order for me, too.)
I went, I learned, and discovered that, in fact, life can somewhat be managed via Blackberry and conference calls. While I strolled down First Avenue, I got up-to-the-minute details of the doctor appointment and was able to contribute my two cents from thousands of miles away. However, it wasn’t the same as being there.
The news from that appointment: she has to get better in 14 days on oral antibiotics, or we’re putting her in… as in, admitting her to the hospital for no less than 14 days for IV antibiotics, lots of chest physio (to clear her lungs), rest and nutrition. Nothing like a little pressure hanging over your head. You may or many not be home for two weeks in the next several days. Left in limbo, you don’t know whether to buy groceries (watch those perishables), pack your bags, or beg to just be admitted now and get it over with. Get the the laundry caught up, make sure the bills are paid, call your friend and inform her that you may or may not be able to help her out after all (sorry about that ~ I know we set this up months ago, but what’s a mom to do?), and sit and wait. I can’t RSVP for the bachelorette party and bridal shower for a dear friend three hours away because I just don’t know what is going to happen.
Living in chronicity extends far beyond what happens in your immediate family; you learn who your friends are based on their reactions when you have to cancel plans at the last minute and when extended family lives in limbo with you because you just don’t know what could be coming down the pike. Not to say, however, that life is ALWAYS like this. We just hit a pretty rough patch every few years. And the reality is that no one is guaranteed anything. Ever.
So how does someone “Live in Chronicity?” With all of the humor, determination and stamina that one can possibly muster. Fueled, of course, by the lovely and innocent reason behind it all:
