Just One Of Those Days

Tonight is one of those nights that I hate being a wife.

Maybe I don't hate being a wife... maybe I just hate being my specific husband's specific wife.

Tomorrow morning I am going to have a ct scan (w/ contrast) to determine what it is that has decided to take up residence in my body. Not just anywhere in my body, but in the cavity where my uterus used to be. Almost 6 years ago, I had a uterine hysterectomy (yeah, I haven't had a period in almost six years... be jealous, bitches). It would stand to reason that since there is no uterus, there shouldn't be anything growing there.

Wrong.

About a month ago, I went to a new gyn for a general vaginal health check-up for the first time in 2 years. During my exam, the doctor felt something he shouldn't have. He sent me for an ultrasound, and the results showed something there it shouldn't have. Hence the ct scan to determine exactly what it is. Right now its being called a "pelvic mass consistent in appearance with a complex cyst, equidistant from ovaries (normal, 2)." Its about the size of a golf ball. Um. Yeah, no... I reject this.

Doc has suggested that it may be a twisted/knotted intestinal or bowel loop. The fact that I'm not having any excruciating pain with digestion or bowel movements is kind of a complication for that theory. The other possibility is that one of my normally functioning ovaries released an egg that was subsequently fertilized and started growing... something... that couldn't be sustained because I don't have a uterus to sustain it in.

*sigh*

So yeah... tomorrow I'm going to have this scary ass test done to find out what scary ass thing is going on in my body... and I'm going alone. Call me crazy, but this is the kinda thing I think most husbands in normal, loving married relationships would attend with their wives whom have to undergo these tests.

Instead - my husband is somewhere in Miami Beach, preparing to drive to Dallas for some indie music conference, where he will sing a song or two and show his face & play neo-ghetto celebrity. Sound bitter, much? Maybe its because of the few conferences like these he's gone to over the past year haven't yielded anything but more talk about big dreams and bigger ideas.

Or maybe its because I just called him to talk & talk more because... well, fuck it - I'm nervous. After 3 rings, it went to voicemail... We all know in this day & age of cellphones that it means he ignored my call. Nice. He did leave me a message back a few minutes later tho. Speaking low enough for me to hear beach party type sounds in the background. Niiiiiiiiice.

It isn't even that I'm scared to face whatever this is alone. I was a single mom when I decided to have the hysterectomy & I got through that just fine. But the whole marriage thing is kinda supposed to cancel out going through sickness (& health) alone. And seriously - if you know your wife is stressed out about some shit & you can't be there... don't call back with partying sounds in the background. WTF - how about not ignoring the call??!!!

I'm sad and angry and scared... and alone.

It's 11:22 p.m.

...do you know where your husband is?

Mine is snoring in the backseat of a Cadillac, somewhere between home & Miami Beach.

After several aborted tries, he & his two cohorts have finally left the city earlier today. They were supposed to leave on Friday night Saturday morning, but didn't drive off until this afternoon. Oh & then they have to be in Dallas by Friday... after stopping in Miami for who knows what...

And so begins my refresher course in how to be a single mom again. For the next two+ weeks, it will be as if I never got married... I'll be rushed & harried, getting a slow-poke 7 year old off to school (on time hopefully), then not taking lunch in the middle of my rushed & harried work day in order to rush back to school and pick the boy up, (hopefully) before his after-school program calls the police on me for not being on time. Fortunately, my mom works a few blocks away from his school, so she'll help out a great deal... but I try not to burden her too much. After all, it is my responsibility.

The only difference is that through-out the day, in the midst of whatever catastrophe I will be going through, my husband will call & tell me what delightful sights he's seeing and how much fun he's having and how much I would enjoy doing whatever he's doing. Inevitably, I will want to hurl the phone at the nearest wall. I won't do that. I'll force a smile into my voice & say "That's nice, dear. I gotta go."

This time, I will try to remember the glorious spring in the city weekend we enjoyed together. Warm weather for walking around & a Saturday night sushi date.

Love is Love.

Fool's Gold

Let's try this again, shall we?