My life is never uneventful. I seem to trade one stressful situation for another. As soon as I was free from school work, my Granny landed herself in hospital. She is fine now- but it was touch and go for a bit there. So for the last 24 hours I've been sitting in a chair by her bed.
I hope you don't think I'm awful for sharing this here. I have to get it out somewhere and my hope is that other people out in bloggy world will be understanding...
I really hate my granny. I can't think of another person that I know personally that I dislike more. She is an awful, hateful, manipulative,...creature. She is ridiculously materialistic and self absorbed and spoiled. For most of my life, we lived too far away to have to deal with her. My uncle cared for her. But he passed away in '07 (and I honestly believe that she sucked the life out of him), so my father brought her to the city we live in. She lives in a nursing home, but he visits her everyday and basically does whatever outrageous thing she asks of him. I'm angry because I fear that she will suck the life out of my father too. She puts so much stress on him. I hate her for it. There is more to it than just that, I promise.
Anyway, Granny has been in the hospital several times in the last year. She is 83 now and in failing healthy. Because I'm the only one in our family with any form of medical field knowledge (a year of nursing school, quite a bit of anatomy and physiology from that and early childhood development, and now medical transcription) I am the one that talks to the doctors and makes sure her records and medications are accurate. It's the only way I can help, and I do it to take some of the stress off my dad, not for her. It makes me feel good to help him and I know that he greatly appreciates it.
So, it has been pretty stressful for me. It is always stressful for me when I have to hold up a major filter to my thoughts. There are so many things I have to bite my tongue on in these situations. For my dad's sake, I can't say what I'm really thinking. I know it would upset him tremendously were I to tell him that I can't wait to dance on her grave and be rid of her. (Sounds horrible, I know. But you don't know her. She really is that horrible in my opinion.) In the past, I would have just made sure that I had food in my mouth all the time. It would have been a prime occasion to eat vending machine food during the wait and greasy fast food for every meal. My father would be more than willing to fund this. He likes to eat his stress too.
This time was different though. This time, I felt like I had matured somehow. I was able to take most of the emotion out of the situation. I was able to pretend that I was more like an employee of the hospital relaying information in lay terms to the family rather than part of the family itself. I felt like a grown up. I was proud that I was able to fulfill the role that needed to be filled. I was proud that I handled it well. I knew my father was impressed with me, and I felt proud of that too.
I don't know when this maturity happened. But, I'm sure it came about when I began to realize the amount of control I really have over so many things in my world, not just over my eating. But over so many other things as well. Like finishing what I started with the MT program instead of quitting when it got too hard. I have lost an entire person in weight, and I'm beginning to like thinking that I've gotten rid of all the parts that didn't serve me well.
Maybe I am a new person?