The Invisible Black Woman

Honestly, I thought the worst reason I’d have to miss Saturday’s post was my usual bouts and struggles. And if I’m being even more honest, I’m only writing right now because it’s the only thing I can think of to do at the moment. I’m all out of positive vibes, thoughts and prayers. I’m in the waiting room right now. Waiting for news, any news, on hubby. And while I wait and give myself whiplash from flinging my head up every time the OR door flings open thinking they’re coming to give me an update, I let the tears silently fall down my face.

And, given all we’ve shared together, this might seem par for the course. It’s not. When it comes to him and his health, I’m the strong one. I cry at home under the covers, in the shower, when no one else is looking—and definitely not him. I have to be strong for both of us. He’s the one with the heart condition after all, not me. My heart can take it. If he sees my eyes water, it’ll just make it worse. He’s so fiercely protective of me, for a laundry list of reasons you and I have yet to share—least of all for everything I have dealt with at work. And it’s probably that fierce protection that compels me to be equally protective of him. He can’t see me break (although he has more than once). I just refuse to let him see me break because I’m scared about him.

I’m scared, with each ticking second on the clock that they don’t tell me what’s happening, that they’ll tell me the worse. And I’m pissed that I’m emotional because I’m not emotional. Not when it comes to him because what I am is strong. But I’m not today. Not now when I’m waiting to see the doctor come to the waiting room and tell me everything went okay. So until then, I wait.

Whether you are a person of faith or not. If you believe in hope and goodness and good outcomes, maybe throw one our way while you’re at it? I’ll share more when I can. Right now this is all I can muster without completing losing my shit.

Until next time, wishing you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the astonishingly beautiful creature you are.