So it's still technically Sunday, four days after my knee surgery, and I'm still here. Kind of. For months I've been hoping for a day off or two to just lay around and do nothing. Be careful what you ask for. Four days on the couch and I feel like I'm going out of my mind. I realized why I've been keeping myself so busy, even if it's just arranging and re-arranging my desk--I don't want to think. I've been given more than enough to think about and deal with lately and I've done a pretty damn good job of avoiding dealing with any of it. Unless, of course, you count plenty of anti-anxiety medication, fits of tears, and temper tantrums.
Naturally, just when I think things might reach a plateau, or at the very least, remain in the state restless, unknown chaos, I'm proved wrong. I found out this week that not only my uncle, but one of my great aunts died. With all the illness and injury in my family, my mother brought up the thought--death always comes in threes. I'm trying not to think about that.
And I'm still angry and hurt. Two years ago when I first needed knee surgery, it was a chaotic rush to find someone to be able to take me to and from the hospital (it's a same day type deal). My mother can't drive and my father claimed he couldn't get the day off of work (but he could for a hangover, a day to go ride on his motorcycle, go hunting... the list goes on). He even tried to pawn me off on a neighbor's unreliable teenage kid. This kid can't even be relied on to show up for PAID work and I was supposed to rely on him to be there for me as a chauffeur? Not to mention I wasn't going to be anywhere near my best--drugged out of my mind, wearing sweats, and God only knows what kind of mood I was going to be in after. Thankfully, my surgery was scheduled early enough that my sister-in-law was able to help me. That was until the OR started running 2 hours behind and she had to leave to pick her children up from school. Enter my father--at least he showed up to pick my mother and I up. This time, I was scheduled early enough in the morning that I had a few options if one of my best friends was unable to make it in for the month to help, but it meant that because of my mother's appointment that morning, she would be unable to be at the hospital. At least my dad took care of that and was supposed to go to the pharmacy for me to fill my pain medication. But once again, he wasn't there. He was too tired, so decided to go do some work. Nothing that was an emergency, nothing that required any real thought, but gone just the same. Yeah, thanks.
I guess what hurts the most and makes me so angry is he is a parent. It's easy to make a child, but it shouldn't be an option whether or not you are a part of your child's life regardless of how old they are. I grew up idolizing this man--his attitude towards things, how easily he could look at a set of written directions and build whatever it was. How good he was at math (not quite my strongest suit. I can do calculus, but give me a word problem and you may as well be asking me to learn a new language in 5 minutes). How I wanted to be just like him, including being a mechanic. I did become a mechanic until I got too sick, but the only thing he said when I made my choice "public" was how he knew I could not only do the job, but do it very well, if not the best. He knew I could handle the bullshit that came with being a female mechanic, but didn't want me to wake up at 40 years old and in pain from beating the crap out of myself for decades. I could be the best in the field with nothing to show for it but serious arthritis. Other than my mother, he was the only other person who stood behind my decision.
That was the man I knew. I don't know who he is now. Except someone who technically holds the biological title of "father," but I can't remember the last time he was there when I needed him. Instead, I'm left with everything to do that he's supposed to in addition to putting my life together again. God, I need to be able to get off this couch...
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