Daughter is not here this weekend. I decided I couldn't handle her drama right now-- I don't have the energy.
When I fell, Daughter was at a dance. I knew she would be calling me when she got home. I also knew that she would panic if she couldn't reach me by phone. I handed my cell phone to Gem (Sister's name for one of the saints who has been so supportive). I told her Daughter would be calling, and would panic, and asked her to provide her the reassurance she'd need. I also told her Daughter had had a conversation with her birth mother that afternoon, so could be less stable than usual.
Gem's husband picked Daughter up for church Sunday morning while Gem came to the hospital for my surgery. I heard all about Daughter's dramatic meltdowns. She explained that the anthem the choir was singing was one of my absolute favorites, and she always looked out while the choir is singing to see me smiling encouragement at her, and how important that was to her. Of course, she had multiple people offering hugs and reassurances. When I was told the story, I asked how the anthem went-- as I didn't remember it. Gem laughed. I pointed out Daughter can tell a great story. I don't think I need to say that I am not concerned with making eye contact with Daughter during the anthem. That is my one opportunity to sit quietly and reflect during worship. Daughter came to visit Sunday evening. I don't remember much about it-- I think she read me part of I'll Love You Forever for Mother's Day.
Monday I received a text from a friend at Daughter's program. They had read her the riot act, and told her that she needed to show her maturity and how responsible she could be and not try to create drama and pull the attention back on herself. I was amused, and hoped it might work. Daughter's response was quick and decisive: she went home and convinced her house that she had terrible pain in her feet and needed to go to the doctor. Gem was chuckling about the pain complaints when she brought Daughter up that evening, and suggested she might want to wear more sensible shoes. I agreed. Daughter also informed me that she needed to talk to my nurses when she was up there that evening, because she needed to make sure she knew what was happening. I alerted the nurse, who was great. He said to Daughter, "What questions can I answer for you?" She was embarrassed, and didn't come up with any questions.
Daughter stayed home to nurse her pain Tuesday and Wednesday, going to the doctor on Wednesday. I wasn't thrilled with this response, but wasn't going to spend energy on it. The doctor ordered blood work, saying she might have arthritis or gout. I was perversely delighted to hear that they had trouble getting her blood, and after digging around the first arm, had to go to the other arm.
She finagled rides over to see me Wednesday and Thursday. Thursday she volunteered at the church, but Administrative Assistant is on to her, so she was cooperative and helpful. Yesterday I had a series of texts from her telling me how awful her program was and how much she was suffering. My response was the usual-- "I'm sorry you're having a bad day. Take some deep breaths and listen to your music."
Yesterday evening she called me, wanting to come spend the weekend with me. She wanted to help me. She'd make any recipe I wanted her to make. She'd help any way she could.
"How are your feet feeling?"
I could almost hear her brain working in the silence that followed. She knew there was no good answer. "They still hurt but I'm pushing through."
"I think you'd best stay home and take care of your feet. I'd feel terrible if you came here and did something that caused further damage to them."
She started complaining about being bored, and not having anything to do. I assured her she did, and hung up on her. She called later in the evening to ask about getting to church Sunday morning. I suggested she called Gem and her husband. They agreed to pick her up. I have someone else coming to get me.
I will be in worship tomorrow, just to worship. We already had someone lined up to preach. The congregation needs to see me, and I need to see them, to say thank you, and assure them that I am okay.