My sprits have been slightly dampened all morning. I wasn’t sure why, off and on, but then I kept remembering the email from my mom I read this morning.
David is having a hard time in chemo therapy. His physical reactions to his chemo are not pleasant, he has an awful rash that has him breaking out with awful acne like symptoms, his nose trickles with blood/snot much of the time, and his hair is coming out in bunches. I think some self loathing has him depressed. This depression isnâ€™t constant, but apparent. We are still looking for a [special medicine] source for his attitude adjustment, but we are so out of the loop, we are at a loss. Sometimes the poor guy seems like he is drifting away from me, and I donâ€™t feel equipped for this job. Well, I may be, but I feel like I lack some skills.
This sounds worse than it really is, but these are the worrisome things that haunt our days.
“Sounds worse than it really is”, huh? At 11 PM last night when she wrote that email she’d probably had a few drinks and therefore the disclosure level in the first paragraph is probably her “true” inner feelings. The last sentence is her retreat back to her normal, “everything is fine, don’t scrutinize my life for problems please” stance.
So yeah, other than that, everything’s going great here.