Interruptions
I got a lot done while I was at my Mom's house over the weekend. I went to the grocery store a couple of times, made meals (for four people... my sister-in-law's mom, who was also recovering from surgery, and sister were there for a couple of days until she was up to going to home), washed sheets and remade beds, helped my mom, moved the hospital bed out of the family room and got the room put back together, and even had time to sit and read and go for a walk. It felt so very easy, even though people kept telling me how much I was able to get done. It just didn't feel tiring.
After having a couple full days at home to compare it to, I think I know why. It was the sheer lack of people. I tried walking from the kitchen to the living room at one point today, and I think I was interrupted with a request or question five times during that short journey. Did I even remember why I going to the living room when I got there? Who knows? I certainly don't.
I know that to nearly everyone reading, this probably seems like a whole lot of obviousness. To me, it's a bit like a fish knowing it's in water. This is how I live, and I don't get out of my fish bowl for an extended period of time. I'm used to getting a couple of things on my to do list done each day while wondering why I can't do more. The near constant need to referee, answer questions, help find something, get someone started on a project, clean up a mess, comfort someone who got hurt, etc., tends to be just how life is. I don't think about the time these things take. It turns out these things actually do take quite a bit of time.
One of the interruptions to my fixing of dinner tonight was when I heard a crash behind me, and I turned around to discover R. on the ground having a huge seizure. No warning, just boom, there she was. Poor thing. Normally, at this point, my head would already be spiraling to wondering if we were going to be able to get any sleep for the next three days. This kicks up the anxiety quotient considerable. Today, with our new medicine, I was able to take the anxiety down a notch or two. This is our first real trial of the new medicine. So far, so good. She was coherent when she went to bed... and she went to bed! This alone is different from previous seizures. Here's hoping that the medicine continues to work.
After having a couple full days at home to compare it to, I think I know why. It was the sheer lack of people. I tried walking from the kitchen to the living room at one point today, and I think I was interrupted with a request or question five times during that short journey. Did I even remember why I going to the living room when I got there? Who knows? I certainly don't.
I know that to nearly everyone reading, this probably seems like a whole lot of obviousness. To me, it's a bit like a fish knowing it's in water. This is how I live, and I don't get out of my fish bowl for an extended period of time. I'm used to getting a couple of things on my to do list done each day while wondering why I can't do more. The near constant need to referee, answer questions, help find something, get someone started on a project, clean up a mess, comfort someone who got hurt, etc., tends to be just how life is. I don't think about the time these things take. It turns out these things actually do take quite a bit of time.
One of the interruptions to my fixing of dinner tonight was when I heard a crash behind me, and I turned around to discover R. on the ground having a huge seizure. No warning, just boom, there she was. Poor thing. Normally, at this point, my head would already be spiraling to wondering if we were going to be able to get any sleep for the next three days. This kicks up the anxiety quotient considerable. Today, with our new medicine, I was able to take the anxiety down a notch or two. This is our first real trial of the new medicine. So far, so good. She was coherent when she went to bed... and she went to bed! This alone is different from previous seizures. Here's hoping that the medicine continues to work.
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