Unexpected bit of emotion today. I have to attend Diabetes “training” for things like how to use the glucometer (even though I’ve been using it all this week), dietary changes (which will be helpful), and related things to keep an mindful eye upon… during the registration process by phone, the nurse was asking me questions, confirming information, etc (all of this is required to get discounts and approvals by the insurance company that provides coverage) and she asked me a question that didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time but, after hanging up, I found it actually bothered me enough to make me cry (a little, I was at work and really couldn’t afford to let emotions run free).
“As part of your pre-registration, I need to let you know that your insurance provides for the attendance of a support member. Do you have a support member you’d like to register at this time?”
In the moment, I just said, “No” and we moved along quite smoothly. However, from that moment on, in the back of my head, all manner of things were running rampant and kicking at walls; concepts that flitted and fluttered across my brain like old newspapers down a deserted street. Here, hours later, I still remember them (which, I suppose, attests to the effect). Simple fact is — I have not a single “support member” in this town (or even state, I reckon).
Despite my best effort, that keeps bubbling up and bothering me. Stupid thoughts like, “You know, if something were to go terribly wrong, no one would miss me for days.” Then there are the darker thoughts that range from the fact of what that might mean with two cats in the house to the hassle it would be for my daughter to deal with aftermath.
Dark thoughts, indeed. Most times, I stay busy enough that this stuff never surfaces. But, on occasion and particularly when unexpectedly reminded, the reality of how slender my support network is (and has always been) and the weight of solitude really wears on me. I think it’s mostly the notion that no one really would miss me, let alone has need of me. Perhaps it’s just lingering bits of the ol’ empty nest syndrome, but more realistically, it’s likely the remainder of that same old murky pond called ‘history’ and ‘angst’.
Meh. This too shall pass. Thankfully, since it likely isn’t changing.