Clearing the Haze

I was talking to my cousin the other day about the ability to picture a finished project in your mind before it's done. He works in the construction business and was telling us about a client that paid to have a door and window installed, bricked in, then paid to have it pulled back out because she decided she didn't like it after it was completed. She couldn't picture the finished product in her mind without seeing it fully finished in front of her. Even with all that technology can now offer, some people simply can't see without the physical proof in front of them. I don't normally have that problem. I may have to swatch my knitting to see how two colors will look mixed together, or do small swatches with stitch patterns to see how a variegated will play with a texture, but the overall I can normally then picture.

I can see the finished picture in my mind when I get an idea for a design for a room. I can shop around and spend months picking out furniture, curtains, bedding, paint, etc to put it all together. And in the end I can get something that comes really close to meeting the picture I had in my head all along. I've done this more times than I can count, because in reality my budget normally doesn't allow me to do things in one fell swoop. And I get a kick out of watching it all transform. I like watching the puzzle pieces all fall into place. I get impatient during phases of it, and want to just get it done. But as long as I'm making progress, I'm normally pretty happy about it.

I like long term projects, but I'm not a 5 year or 10 year life goal person. I like to have a generalized idea of what I would like to have done in that timeframe but I hate giving myself too much structure. I tend to push back when I feel too much pressure to conform. Even if I'm the one who put those initial constraints in place. I like the idea of visualization though. I like to visualize what my life would look like if I picked this option or that option. What would my life look like if I went back to college. What would I see if I went on this vacation or that? Which sights would make me happier? It's one of the techniques I use to make decisions. I like to talk things out as well. And there doesn't have to necessarily be a human around to hear me do it. My cat has been a key decision maker more times than he realizes. Sometimes simply having to argue my point helps me to see the failings of my plans.

But when the constancies of your life have been tossed out of a window and everything changes, what then? My standard response to every question about plans right now is, "I don't know" or "We're taking it day by day." That's all great and fine, because it's true. But what about when I hit my impatient phases and I want a plan, even if I am not ready to share it with anyone. When I'm ready to just argue with the cat? Except I have no bloody idea what in the hell I'm doing.

Obviously I know I'm here taking care of my dad. I do the things in the hospital that the nurses don't have time to do, like wipe my dad's face off with a washcloth a zillion times, or swab his mouth a billion and a half times a day. I adjust ice packs, or move the call button/tv remote. I go out and listen and participate in the daily doctor rounds. I talk to the teams of doctors. I advocate for him, tell them which medicines and procedures he would rather not have. I update Facebook daily, I make so many calls and texts a day that one of these days I might check the phone bill to get a total on texts sent and received just because I like data. I answer more texts on "What's your plan/agenda for the day?" now than I ever did as a manager. And in between that, I deal with bills for him and me, I make phone calls and send emails for both of us about work leave, or insurance. And in between that I eat or do laundry. Taking care of a loved one in the ICU is a full time job with overtime with no compensation, in case you ever wondered. I'm not complaining. But it's so all encompassing, so full of details and worry, that it covers you in this haze. And to make matters worse, my haze is streaked with grief.

So I don't have a plan. I don't even know my plan for today other than go get my ass in the shower, grab clothes, go put gas in the car, stop and print out pictures for my dad to hang up in his room and get to the hospital before rounds. Every day Dad makes some kind of progress and then every few days something new comes up and we have to make changes. My only real plan is to be here to support him. Beyond that, I have no idea. I'm going to have to figure out how to clear the haze, but it's not going to happen now. And that both frustrates me to no end and also calms me, because I want to have at least an outline, but also know that I don't have to have it all figured out right now.

Here's one of my favorite pictures, of one of my favorite trips, because visualizing the view helps to calm me too.