Barriers

 It's occurred to me in the past few days that there are 2 major obstacles 

which are making adjustment to my sons current diagnosis 

and treatment difficult to take - 

both emotionally and physically -

for him as well as for me.

 

One is that for all the advances Western medicine has made in the recent past,

the treatment for a fractured jaw remains quite barbaric.

 I doubt it's just my sons case 

or the fact that his jaw was fractured in three places

which leads me to this conclusion;

the insertion of metal plates into a persons gums,

interspersed with metal brackets installed on every tooth 

through which wire is woven to create a metal barrier 

resembling a chicken wire fence is awful.

 

While the illustration above is bad enough, 

my son also has wires running horizontally as well as vertically

so his mouth hardware resembles a fine mesh handheld strainer.

Nothing except fluid of clear liquid consistency can get in - or out.

Add to that all the warnings about not being alone -

and carrying a scissors with you at all times -

 in case the wire has to be cut if you start choking and

it's enough to give you anxiety in and of itself.

Then 'they' give you oral antiseptic 'wash' 

which you're supposed to get passed the barrier three times a day,

swish in your mouth and then spit out;

said fluid which increases the production of saliva

which drips down the back of your throat, 

especially when sleeping,

so you wake up frequently coughing -

feeling like you're choking!

 

The anxiety that goes along with all of this cannot be understated.

And it's that anxiety about being alone -

with the potential for a fatal outcome -

that is obstacle number two.

There are few situations in which ones "aloneness" is emphasized more-

or with more dire consequences for the same-

than this diagnosis.

My son and I have each been comfortably single for a long time.

It's not what either of us consciously chose; 

it just happened and 

we've each learned to live with it

and have adapted to our circumstances very well.

 

While I'm content to spend my remaining days in solitary pursuits,

he still has hopes of finding someone with whom to share his life.

 

With the exception of the occasional invitation to a wedding, with a plus one,

for which you momentarily realize there is no PLUS ONE,

there are few times when I dwell on, or think about, my single status.

 

This diagnosis however reinforces on a frequent basis

that if you are alone, it's dangerous

and you shouldn't, under any circumstances, stay that way!

 

And that's a bitter pill for both of us to swallow;

on a visceral and cellular level.

After years of convincing ourselves that we're more than FINE by ourselves,

we now have to adjust to someone else determining that this line of thinking was wrong

and dangerous.

 

Granted that isn't the intent, 

but it is the outcome and implication.

 

Big feelings, hard choices 

and lots of wrestling with issues which we thought were settled long ago.

Two independent adults, used to being alone -

by temperament, and reinforced by isolation of a global pandemic for 2 years -

now sharing basically the same 4 rooms, 24/7,

and, all things considered,

I'd say we're fucking rock stars!

 

But easy?

Nope, wouldn't say that.

 

Keep those prayers and positive vibes coming our way!

 We're not quite halfway through.