In another week, I hope to be hanging with four of my girlfriends in our rented villa in Belize. Sounds absolutely amazing, doesn’t it?!?

I just NEED to get there.

Today my husband and I spent over 4 hours in the emergency room. After three days of high blood pressure and heart palpitations, our doc said it’s best we go to the ER since they can do tests and get results today, compared to doing tests at his office and waiting two days.

But that’s not what happened. When we walked in, we were warned that their computer system was down and no idea when it would be brought back up. We figured we’d stay anyways because they could still do tests…unless you get a medical professional that doesn’t think you need any.

Three hours after we stepped through the doors, my husband is finally seen. Unbelievably, his blood pressure was actually normal at that time. The PA couldn’t see my husband’s records, but knew he had congestive heart failure. He said he might do some tests if he can look into his records. BUT HE COULDN’T, SO WHY BOTHER TO STRING US ALONG?

An hour later, I told my husband we should leave. They were working on discharge papers but weren’t sure how long it would take. I was done. I was angry at the PA, angry at my husband, angry at the world. So we left.

Once we got home, we sat in our driveway and I just cried. I let it all out. I told him how disappointing it is to have to do everything at home (cook, clean, laundry) even though I know he often feels like garbage. But when I get home after a long day and he’s been home, can’t the dishwasher be emptied at least? But I also told him how frustrating dealing with his health is, how we should just pull the pin on this disability thing and he should downgrade to part-time work. We’ll lose our insurance and try to get something in Marketplace we can afford. But it’s all so fucking scary and rage-inducing. We should be in a much better place in our lives, but instead we’re still fucking struggling like we did 25 years ago.

And yet between sobs, I told him I feel guilty of living my life and traveling with my friends, while he stays home, barely living at all. But he told me that he wants me to keep living and traveling, because that’s what I want to do and should keep doing it.

But…our lives include things like this in the shower. (Which, I’m not gonna lie, I hate. I feel like I don’t fit in our shower now, and I feel like the handle is just in my way. Isn’t that the most fucking selfish thing anyone has ever thought?!?) I also ordered husband a cane that should be here this week. It all feels just so…unfair and overwhelming and just plain shitty.

Ten minutes ago I completely melted down by the tremendously overwhelming task of…making my lunch for tomorrow. It’s a salad for fuck’s sake, and I dissolved into a sobbing mess at the thought of trying to cut up chicken to put into it. I alternate between sitting at my kitchen table and typing this, to laying my head down in front of my laptop. It’s really not a pretty sight.

So…I’m listening to ocean waves and trying not to spiral and overthink our future. I’m going to envision the best-case, worst-case and most likely scenario of what the next few years will be. Best-case? My husband’s health stabilizes enough that he can work full-time for now and we keep our insurance. Worst-case scenario? He stops working all together and is denied disability over and over. We not only lose our insurance (and our doctor because he doesn’t take any other insurance now) but must sell our home and move into a small apartment. Or…my husband dies.

Most-likely scenario? I think it’s in between. I am hoping my husband can work part-time. Yes, we’d lose this insurance, but I know we can find something on Marketplace. I think it would be more than what we want to pay (or rather *should* pay), but I’m not sure there’s much we can do about that.

I made Husband promise to not die this week or next week while I’m on vacation. I guess now I just keep on moving forward, right? I know how lucky I am to be able to take this trip with four of my favorite people. Do I wish I wouldn’t have to worry about what was happening at home? Of course. But…I just have to do this. I need a break from my life and I swear, I do know how fortunate I am to get that.

So I’m going to take that break. And I’m going to hope for the best. And when I get home? I’ll keep moving one foot in front of the other and gather forces to try and navigate our current circumstances. We’ll figure it out, right? 

Hugs to all of you. ❤