Happpy Birthday, sweet girl

It’s been a long and grueling week. It may take some time before I am able to post updates on the blog during the week again. Everywhere I turn, there is something important that needs attending to, and I am the coordinator of pretty much all that must be done. Even if ask for help, I’m still ultimately responsible for the task, so it’s often easier to just do it myself. That can be a dangerous way to think. I'm trying to work against it, but some matters are just too important to leave to others.

I’m training Yaron to take over several household chores. Bit by bit, he’s learning the ropes, but is not yet taking initiative. I trust this too shall develop over time. Unquestionably, he should be expected to pull his weight at his age, but the reason he is now forced to pitch in more often burdens my heart. When I was 18, my life was carefree; my children have had to grow up all too soon. I’ll admit, many children younger than mine have had to face even greater adversity. This reality doesn’t lessen or belittle their pain, nor mine as I witness what they are going through. It is a heart wrenching experience.

Brad from the CSSS called me at 8:45 on Monday morning, as I was walking into Vanier for day 1 with students. He told me that the committee he presented our case to suggested that I call Gilly to remind him to take his pills and eat lunch. I explained that this would not be possible on a regular basis, because I would have to postpone seminars, and so on, but I admitted that for this week I have resorted to this tactic. I appealed to him to try to secure some sort of support, so as to alleviate my high degree of anxiety and allow me to focus on my work. I do have to keep my job, after all.

I called home at 10:30 that morning to remind him that in an hour he’d need to get the lunch out I’d made and warm it, since I was heading into a series of meetings. I called home at 4:00 after I finished only to discover that he had just awakened from a nap and was about to warm his lunch and take his noon time pills! On the brink of hysteria, I dashed home. We were up until after one A.M. as a result, so as to spread out the remainder of medication he had to take.

On Tuesday I had someone at home with him, so all went smoothly. Manuela comes to clean on that day (usually once every two weeks, but now I’ve asked her to come every Tuesday since this is my longest day). I gave her detailed instructions to follow so as to keep Gilly on schedule, and the day proceeded like clockwork.

On Wednesday I called home at the exact moment he needed to eat and take medication. Unfortunately, he was unable to find the healthy, balanced meal Tamara had lovingly placed on a plate the night before due to his poor vision. I sped home in order to give him his lunch before his 3:00 MRI appointment.

The plan to just use phone call reminders is certainly not the answer. Brad called back on Wednesday to let me know that he persisted, and next Wednesday Josephina will come in and attend to his lunch. For starters, she’ll come twice a week, and if necessary, she will come more often. Thank goodness! My stress level ran extremely high this week; I was unable to sleep, I felt my heart pounding and I had trouble focusing on my work.

All this was happening during the busiest week of the semester for me as fieldwork coordinator. I find the term ‘coordinator’ ridiculously ironic at this stage of the game. How many things can one person coordinate? I have too many jobs, most of which do not draw a salary. Where does it end? I will have to take stock of the pros and cons of my position at work; I have more flexibility as to where I do my work during the ‘release time’ I am given to coordinate the fieldwork program, but I have more than 60 students, about 20 day care directors and 11 fieldwork supervisors to organize, and the pieces do not fit neatly. Many last minute changes have to be made, and it is very time consuming. I have to deal with many people, and do so in a diplomatic, pleasant manner. This does not include the two courses I teach and all those students I am responsible for…not to mention the handful of students I supervise myself. It is beyond me how I arrived at the end of the week with my head on straight.

When I arrive home after stressful hours in the work situation I am slapped in the face with my personal reality. This week, Gilly was even more needy than usual. He repeatedly told me that he did not ‘feel right.’ I really didn’t know where to turn. I did not see symptoms that indicated the need to go to the hospital. I had to tackle the dish washer, dig a hole through the pile of laundry, shop, prepare doses of medication (now I have to split pills as well), shop for groceries and other sundry items, do the banking, contact various health professionals for one reason or another, keep track of and manage medical appointments…are you tired yet?...complete my unfinished work of the day as coordinator and plan my lessons for teaching. I felt disgustingly wicked attending to these necessary tasks while Gilly was feeling rotten and perhaps wanted me by his side. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I need a clone.

Today I had time to organize the house since fieldwork supervision (slated for Thursdays and / or Fridays) doesn’t begin until next week. I prepared dinner for my family in honour of Tamara’s birthday (which is actually tomorrow). I try never to miss an opportunity to celebrate happy occasions, and tonight was no different. Gilly remained upstairs all evening. In fact, he continues to snooze on the living room couch at this very moment.

Over all, his physical state is not great. He has become restless lately. I’m not sure if it is boredom, depression or his body adjusting to the new medication he is taking. It is probably a combination of all three. He’s very thin, and smiles less often. He has an awful lot of trouble expressing himself; he seems to have given up on talking most of the time. Emotionally, he’s at a low point. He prefers to be alone, lies on the couch rather than sits, and rarely bothers to turn on the T.V. anymore. He has very little energy, and his vision is very poor, which disturbs him to no end.

We are in town on this final long weekend of the summer because there is a cousins club gathering here in Montreal this weekend (Gilly’s mother’s family on her mother’s side; a yearly event). Gilly is still vacillating as to whether he’ll feel strong enough to attend, but he’s leaning towards going. It’s motivating to have special occasions to look forward to. I plan to take some time over the next few days for myself, to walk with friends, and just relax with Gilly. I have to rejuvenate myself for the week ahead. Luckily, it will be a short one, since Monday is a holiday. The fieldwork frenzy is pretty much done, so with any luck (and a lot of thinking ahead) things are sure to run more smoothly. Transitions are tough all around, but we all still have each other, and love is in the air.