The Basement

I apologize for the “drought” in the writing. I began the series and then…Poof…the muse left me.

It seems the muse is more absent than present these days. It is a shame.

I don’t have the energy to revisit where I left off in the series of Changes, but the basement is where I found myself and in that moment, I came to a conclusion that I could not do this job any longer.

To fill in the blanks, I knew something wasn’t right when I picked up the medicine out of the basket. When I stopped pushing out the pills, I looked again and realized that someone had placed another clients medicines in my client’s basket.

What a mess!!! But, in spite of my weariness and my pressure to get to my next client, I did discover the error and no one received the wrong medication.

I managed to correct the error and I decided to report it to the case manager the following day. Mistake.

I was reprimanded for not reporting it immediately and I finally had enough. I knew that it was my knowledge of the medication and the diagnosis of the patient that caught someone elses error and that is the reason why I have a license.

It was the last straw for me and I wrote my resignation making it effective immediately.

Grief makes you fearless at the moment. It is afterwards that another kind of fear takes you over and you wonder just what you could have been thinking.

Nursing is the skill I possess and it is in demand. Because of the recession/depression, there are no other jobs available in this area. Our local economy is very dependent on the auto industry and everyone knows what that is right now….

In four days, I had another position. I am presently working for a home health care company that specializes in caring for children. In my earlier days of nursing, I always worked on pediatrics floors.

When I was asked why I chose pediatrics, I replied that I didn’t. Pediatrics chose me. I have always had a way with children and maybe that is because, no matter how old I become, I love to do the same things that kids do. I am just a big kid…

Even though I was hired, the manager allowed me to take a  few weeks off to deal with the  first anniversary of Dan’s death. I needed that time desparately.

For about 4 weeks, I played with my grandsons, went fishing and just enjoyed not being required to get up and get into that car and drive. My soul needed a respite.

In many ways, I am no farther down the road out of the shadows than I was when I began walking it the day that Dan died. Somehow, I believed that I would be better off financially, emotionally and physically than the moment that I was left alone in this world. I am not.

I guess I thought that I would be “changed” or morphed into someone more completed than feeling the same feelings that I did at that moment.

Many days now, I wonder just how long can I run on this hamster wheel. Always in motion, but never getting anywhere.

There are more things in my life, yet they are just a continuation of everything that was before.

I am in the basement again and I want out.


9 thoughts on “The Basement

  1. I don’t know how to get you out of the basement; we all have basements in which we feel trapped. I’m in my own basement at the moment and thinking of wrapping up my blogging career as I cannot seem to find my humor. Devoted Spouse says it will return – he says I’m tired and he’s probably right I need a little rest. I dread the winter that is right around the corner — all the horrors of my accident loom over my head again and I have been refusing to make any appointments for Jan and Feb. Sometimes I think we make our own basements to cocoon us but then we get trapped in our own wrapping. Hugs and prayers coming your way.

  2. Linda,
    I will make a deal with you. If I find the way out, I will tell you and vice versa, deal?

    I know exactly what you mean about loosing the desire to keep up with the blog. I have lost quite a few readers because I just think that I am writing the same thing over and over. Grief seems like a broken record and what has really caused me to regress is that I realized that I am no farther down the financial path out of this hole that cancer dug than I was when I went to work immediately after Dan’s death.

    Dan’s words echo in my ears on most days when he said that he was in the way of my true destiny. For the life of me, I don’t know what that destiny may be. I know that it isn’t destiny to run on the hamster wheel and get no where. Then there is the practical side of things. There is no other income but what I bring in, so I am without the luxuary of changing any course that would require additional education. I barely have enough money to pay my bills, so whatever this destiny is, it must be a miracle if it involves money.

    I can understand completely your fear of the winter. Your injury is still with you and that would make anything that resembles ice become a frightful thought.

    I am tired of basements. I am tired of being tired. I guess I am whining, but, for right now, I am giving myself permission to whine.

    Same goes for you my friend. I agree. Your humor will return and I will be looking forward to reading your quirky outlook on this life….

    Hugs and prayers

  3. I think you have permission to whine. Grief IS a broken record. It’s like you have to relive it over and over and over and over again until you are able to reconcile it. I also understand the drought in writing.

    Know that we’re still reading, still here.

    Glad you moved into working with kiddos. 🙂 I bet they’ll give you some things to write about.

  4. Thanks for your comment, Steph. Thanks for understanding that grief is an unending stretch of “repeat”.

    For me, the grief is not as bad as it was, at first, thank God, but there are “triggers” that come from no where that will send me back to the days right before Dan died. I see his face, I hear the sounds, I smell the smells…how does a mind do that????

    My grief counselor says that I don’t cry enough. I suppose I don’t. I am afraid that,. If I let myself start to cry, I won’t be able to stop myself..

    Honestly, the intensity of the emotions frightens me.
    But, grief needs release. And I have yet to discover the socially acceptible way to do that. I have days that I feel like Sally Field’s character in “Steel Magnolias” where she says that she wants to hit something. Hit it hard so that it will hurt as badly as she hurts. With my luck, if I should hit something that hard, I would break my hand…more pain…so this is not an option to deal with grief..

    I have no regrets leaving the company that I worked for. I gave them 110%. The worst part of changing jobs was the fear that I would run out of money, which I did. But, I did survive it and I am trying to get myself out of that kind of basement.

    I have only one client now. I don’t have to drive all over God’s creation every day. I also love this small child. Medically, she should have never survived the birth process. Most,, with her condition, do not live past 1 year old. Being the miracle that she is, she has just celebrated her 4th birthday. I feel very honored to be a part of one of God’s tiny wonders. She definately is a miracle.

    Thanks for still stopping by and being faithful to my blog. I figured that most everyone lost interest by now.. The part of my heart where the words are stored has dried up, it seems. I am hoping that one day, the words will return like the buffalo and I will be able to write from a full heart again.

    Thanks again.
    PS I check your site a lot.
    I think that when the heart becomes so overwhelmed with emotion, writing is not enough to release or vent the pain. For me, the emotions need to be sorted out and I no longer can do that by writing.

    I hope you know that you and hubby are so brave and very good parents. Peace and wisdome are my prayers for you both. God’s Blessings are on you, my friend. Never loose sight of the righteous fight.

  5. Thanks, Jonas for your reassurance that Grief is a transitory state. It feels more like a solid wall and I can’t find the doorway that leads out of this basement.

    Thanks for your faithfulness in reading my blog,

  6. I am glad that you have been able to return to us – who were left wondering about what happened next… To sort out the “cliffhanger” that had been left in our minds.

    i am sorry that the basement still keeps you prisoner.
    This journey can be very slow and all too frequently something appears round the next bend to block our way.
    Grief is a strange state and misunderstood by all who have so far avoided this journey.
    Best wishes from a grey overcast London.

  7. It is good to hear from you, Dewdrop…thanks for stopping by.

    I knew writing about the last part of the series of “Changes” would be difficult and, after time, I just couldn’t capture the final day of my job and the effects of that basement in a timely manner.

    My grief counselor says that I still resist “falling to pieces” and that it is a part of this journey. I trust her wisdom, but I tried to explain to her that I do not have that “luxuary”. I must work and I must keep my wits about me.

    The basement seemed to represent so many things in that moment and I believe that I needed the basement as a “wake up” call.

    I need to find a way to go on living and not just surviving the days. I am amazed with the smallness of my world and I get impatient with myself at times.

    Again, thanks for reading still.

    From a cold, cloudy “Hoosier” Halloween…

    • Shadowlands
      It is good to be back here, reading of your new experiences.

      We have both made it past the one year mark of losing the love of our life and no, at times it feels like I am still ‘back there’. But, I am not. And I see that you are not still way back there, either.
      There really is joy after the mourning.
      Ema in Idaho

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