Between the sheets
So about a month or so ago, before we went way up on pain medication, I was struggling. I was snapping at the kids every single night from dinner to bed. The hard floor under their bath mat in their bathroom was excruciating when I bathed them, whether I sat or stood. Reading bedtime stories when the pain level is so bad it makes you sweat was so difficult. And the kids knew I was overreacting to bath splashing, skipping pages in their bedtime books and rushing prayers. So my son asked me why I don't want to be around him. It's hard to admit but this is actually true. The only thing I want to be around is my bed and silence. Now the truth always breaks your heart unlike something untrue- especially when it comes from a little boy. The kids' illness counselor told me to separate myself from the disease for the kids. So I told him it wasn't me, it was the Lyme disease as my pain was really bad right then. Then W and W told me to tell my son that what he does and/or being around him helps me feel better so I would give him some kind of feeling of control. So I told him that him and the things he does to help helps me a lot and that I was proud of how he handles these hard times, yada...Husband in the garage which is far-ish from the house. I really need to lay down. The bed really needs sheets on it. So I ask my son to help. He cheerfully agrees thinking it helps my pain now. (Glimpse of Me in near future: "Ow! Ow! My feet hurt and the laundry needs folding!")But you have to agree, sheets are a bitch, really. I mean, I hate putting them on. I really do.During the placing of corners 1 and 2, I was thinking about a friend of mine in college, a writer, a minority, gay. He said when you're eating Chinese and you get your fortune cookie, you're always supposed to say the fortune and then say "between the sheets." Like 'You will go far in life... between the sheets.' My whole life prior to 7 months ago and most of my life now is "between the sheets" but now the truth of that life is sadly lacking.My son and I couldn't get corners 3 and 4 on. I tried my hardest but I swear at the time, I didn't know I was so weak. After I tried corner 3 and I was so exhausted and in so much pain I just fell crossways on the bed telling my son I needed to rest, thinking I was kind of making it fun or something, hoping he would think I was exagerating by falling on the bed in exhaustion. At first, I thought he did, cause he fell across the bed right next to me in spoon position, his mouth right next to my ear. I was hoping he'd say "Ugg, I'm TIRED TOOOOO!" and we could laugh a little.But instead he said very quietly in my ear "Oh Mama, I'm soooooooooo sorry you hurt so bad. Why couldn't it have been someone else?"I didn't know what to say right then. Then he says: "Who could we wish it on that we hate? How about [his little brother]? Who do you really hate?"I told him in all honesty hat I really didn't hate anyone and even if I did, I wouldn't wish this on them.I told him this is something we've been given to deal with and we can do it. Then I reiterated my standard "With big problems comes big gifts." He still doesn't see the gifts. But I do. Hopefully someday he will look down and just find one sitting in his hand.