Independence

Yesterday was the 4th of July.

That is a day to celebrate independence.

Yesterday felt weird. It was the first day in what I am sure will be a string of building new traditions. Which, although liberating, is strange. And the 4th was always a big deal. The biggest deal of all of the holidays. And I have a confession.

I HATE the 4th of July.

I think the parade is boring and the fireworks stink.

There, that is MY declaration of independence.

But yesterday was ok. Too hot to really do anything so it was quiet and involved a nice long nap and sadly a terrible headache. The first really terrible headache. Which I have been nervous about. I should have known better. I was tucked on the couch and told not to move. I was kissed on the forehead and asked if anything could be done. I was told that being taken care of was his most important job. : ) I nearly cried.

And I got to thinking. About IIH and the role it played in the demise. I started to picture myself reading this blog and panicking as I wondered if that would be me and MY marriage and so I have decided to delve into it just a little bit. Just enough to let potential caregivers of someone with IIH know what it is like and what I want when I feel like crap.

IIH is frustrating for everyone. When you love someone and they are in pain your first response is to fix. Pills, ice, band-aids; anything to make it better. That is impossible with IIH. The thing you have to remember is that you can't feel their pain. And therefore you can't judge it. That was one of the mistakes that was made. It was by far not the worst mistake or the only mistake. It was not the one that sealed the deal or made up minds. It was something in a long lists of mistakes. It was by far not the deal breaker, but it did break me just a little bit more.

To have your life change and then to be made to feel over dramatic and useless when dealing with that change.

So my advise to all caregivers. Just be there. When pain hits just be there. I don't know how your sufferer reacts but I do know what I do, I hide. I slink off into another room and try and pretend that everything is ok. I rub my head and sigh until someone walks into the room and then I straighten like a kid who's hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Catch them. Sit them down. Kiss their forehead. Tell them to stop. Ask them what they need. Give it to them. Listen. Believe. Love. And if they need to pretend that they are fine and keep slogging through, let them. But be ready for the fall.

Just be perfect, like Prom Date. Maybe I will have him teach a class.

Loss

Well. We have lost one of our fishie family.

He passed quietly in the bowl surrounded by those he loved.

He will be missed.

We didn't flush him but instead gave him a burial (I use the term burial loosely, it was more of a toss) in the backyard. The neighbor boy almost stepped on him when I was taking him out back for a swing in the hammock. Poor Wobbly (that's the fish, not the neighbor boy).

I will wear my black arm band for the required mourning period. Does anyone know what the required mourning period is for a fish?

Prom Date's parents are coming over for dinner tonight. I had the bright idea to make lasagna on the hottest day of the summer. Don't judge. So today will be a cooking and cleaning day. I made the sauce and my cake yesterday which means I just have to throw together rolls and the lasagna. Easy peasy lemon squeesy.

Speaking of the Prom Date's rents they got me the cutest apron from a car show this weekend. It is a cupcake apron and they got me a matching petticoat to make it poof. So flipping adorable. And funny, because I totally had an apron almost exactly like it on my Amazon wishlist.

I guess I better get going. Someone left the kitchen a mess yesterday. I wonder who that could be.