What a whirlwind of a weekend!!! (o.O) All in the best way possible, of course…but it opened a can of worms I’d have rather be left blissfully, ignorantly closed. I hate worms. Loathe, really. Inadvertently stepping on a worm is way worse than stepping on a grape. Which I also loathe. I prefer cans of whoop-ass. Just sayin’.
First, we must backtrack to late last week: Thursday. Thursday? Yes. I think.
[enter brainfog, stage left]
All week I’d been plagued by a crushing pressure in my chest and I was having a good deal of difficulty breathing. Did I go to emerg? Of course not, I admit defeat NEVER!! I’m also an bonafide tartlet. A nutcase. I’m a few clowns short of a circus.
Anyways, I’d finally gone to the Urgent Care Clinic to get checked out. I was pretty sure it was my allergies coupled with my asthma (which ordinarily is really pretty mild…).
You know when you go to the doctors suffering from X and you come out of their office having been told of Y and Z in it’s stead? Yup.
Fluid accumulation within the lining of the sac around the heart.
What. The. H-e-double toothpicks.
[enter actual obscenely nasty cuss, stage right]
Of course! Why not. Are you tired of hearing all that is wrong with me? So am I. Genuinely. I like it about as much I like worms. But guess what…with autoimmune disorders, that’s what you get.
**It is what it is**
What does that mean, exactly? It means, my dear friends, that I’m shit outta luck for just about anything to do with bodily function. How’d you like THEM apples? I sure as shit do NOT.
“I’d like to thank the Academy…”
So, given an aspirin regimen, told not to drive for a week (y’know, just in case my oxygen levels drop and I pass out and crash my car killing myself or someone else…fun times) and sent home thinking I’m freakin’ dying…it’s actually all “fine.”
Not “meh”, most assuredly not “good”…but it’ll pass. At some point. Remember, my body is attacking itself. All. The. Time.
What on YOUR agenda today? Myself? I’m busy trying to keep my “whatever” cells from slaughtering the “thingy” cells that might make living oh-so-much more bearable.
Saturday. A most beautiful Ottawa day, hotter than hell, but the wedding of my step-sister in all it’s Italian Catholic glory. It was elegance simple. It was stunning. It was awe-inspiring. No matter your faith system, there’s just something about seeing two people madly in love making that commitment to each other in front of eleventy-billion people. :o) It was FRABJOUS!! I also got to see my aunts and uncles…some of whom I haven’t seen for four years!!
Then the can came outta nowhere and beaned my poor neck-pinched noggin’ right smack upside the head.
[enter confused, “what in the blue hell is she talking about?”, stage center]
The can itself is my mortality. The worms inside it are thoughts about the law, the reality and the constitution of marriage.
I’m getting married to my best friend, my most absolute MAN of a man, keeper of my heart (no pun intended, seriously…stupid pericarditis!!) lover of my children…next May.
What that means, however, is that I am not married NOW. (stellar deduction, Brynn…)
So. I’ve already downsized my daycare for health issues at a loss of $$. I’m going to be losing child tax benefits when we become common-law in November (which in our legal system is the required one year cohabitation)…And? And, this means that currently under Ontario Family Law, if I were to lose my significant other today, I am plain shit outta luck. I do not benefit from right-of-survivorship. Any property we acquire, even together, will be passed to his own next of kin (family, parents, brother), and not to me.
**I am law clerk by profession and specialized in Family Law for 7 1/2 years, which is my ability to relate to said matter**
What it further means is that as far as having anything come my way (and for the children) income-wise…NADA. No benefits from any insurance, no provisions with regards to estate…I would, in fact, likely have to INCREASE my daycare, and suffer through managing, again, as a single parent working full time AND within the throes of chronic illness. Anything that I may be entitled to I would have to apply to the Ontario Superior Court of Justice to review and render judgment.
Likely? Perhaps not. But how’s YOUR anxiety? (o.O)
I do. Not. Like. Worms. These thoughts are wiggling through my brain, burrowing holes into my very fibre of being…I feel, at this time, I am losing far more than I am gaining…and it’s an awful state of thought, I can tell you that! But I’m desperately trying to gather all my eggs in one basket and get a grip on the reality of having a chronic illness (correction, “several”) and trying to provide for myself and my children. Dude, I’ve had children from “previous” relationships. Yes, plural, at that. It is what it is. I have, however, learned from my mistakes, and I know damned well that I must keep those freakin’ eggs IN the basket, or lose everything…stability, income…you name it.
‘Tis a fairly glum perception, I agree, but given how many times I’ve read about fellow spoonies losing their relationships, especially due to their illnesses…it scares me. I’ve five children. NOTHING is supposed to scare me!! ;o)
So, I’m looking for a how-to on managing these fears and resulting possibilities…I wonder if there’s an App for that?
Maybe I’ll just download an App for recipes ;o)