I was too angry yesterday to write. I don’t like that feeling.
I’d called the doctor’s office multiple times between Monday and Wednesday to get Gary in for the breathing test they didn’t schedule until the 17th (why?!) and from what I could gather from a phone message, the nurse was wondering why the late date too.
I sat with the phone next to me after work on Wednesday, all the way up until 10 p.m. I know that’s silly but geez, I watch Gary struggle and I guess silliness is now a part of who I am.
Eventually I got through Thursday after work and after being on hold while someone talked to the nurse, the woman came back on the line and told me they were just awfully busy and if I was that worried about Gary we should take him to the ER or “prompt care”.
Apparently Gary heard what was said (I had the phone on speaker) and he said he wasn’t going to ER, he’d just keep his appointment for next Wednesday.
I’ve been crying off and on all week from worry. And yes, I pray, but I’m human. I won’t apologize for that. I will go in with him that day but I don’t trust myself to speak, only to listen. I can’t fathom how the doctor and/or nurse couldn’t spare 15 or 20 minutes during the last few days for a long-time patient with breathing problems.
The anger has dissipated a bit. That’s a good thing because it’s an awful feeling and I’ve been working hard to find better ways to handle my emotions.
Just don’t count on me being successful with those when my loved ones are involved. I tend to get a tad ticked off and weepy.
January 11, 2018