If Not For Me

I went to the ER last night. I definitely thought I was having kidney failure of some sort. It seemed so sudden that I was encased with horrific back pain and abdominal distress. I felt nauseous. I was crying, which is rare for me, the only times I've cried before this for pain was when I gave birth to my now three-year-old and when I was a teen and my menstrual cramps would be so bad that I would almost pass out from them.

Before I was admitted to the ER, I told my son I loved him, just in case I didn't make it. I really was terrified. My heart rate was climbing and my blood pressure was something to the tune of 121 over 101, which that bottom number is concerning.

About three hours later and they'd done a ct scan and didn't see what they suspected to be kidney stones. They didn't find anything strange in my bloodwork, except my potassium was low. They did note I had a lot of protein and blood in my urine. This is probably from a condition I have and am never going to be cured from, at least not any time soon as there is no cure, Polycystic Kidney Disease. My grandmother has it and she's going to be 75 this year. I'm only 30, this means I'm guaranteed at least 45 more years to my life, right?

Somehow, I don't think so, and this worries me. I want to watch my son grow up. I want to provide for him. These last few years have taken a toll on me physically and mentally. All of the trouble I've gone through with his father and his infidelity and all of the health issues I've had after giving birth and on top of that, the weight I gained with it as well.

It's a struggle. I've been trying and trying to lose weight. One weight-loss plan after another. While I was pregnant with my son, I gained 72 lbs. I was 232 right before giving birth. I dropped back down to 203 finally, after three years. In the last 3 months, I've dropped 15 lbs. Somehow. I really don't know how. I have a cup of coffee in the morning for breakfast and then I try not to eat after 5 pm.

Physical wellness to me means to wake up and not feel pain all over my body. It means to be fit and healthy so I can take care of my son without the aid of his father as I plan to one day get that toxic person out of our lives through court as he's never there to begin with. What was he doing while I was up at the ER last night? He was enjoying his night with his new girlfriend. He wasn't helping me with our son. Instead, my 74 year old grandmother was up at the ER until I was discharged. Any time in the past I, or my son, has been sick, either during or after we split, he was always elsewhere. Anywhere but helping where he should have helped. How many countless nights did I stay up with a sick baby while he was out cheating?

Physical wellness is important to me. And to achieve that, I'm going to stick to my weight watchers plan. I've already been incorporating tons of vegetables and fruit. I'd like to say they've helped, but honestly, I can't say that so far but it's also only been two weeks.

As for my mental wellness, I'd love, love, love to be able to support my son properly without having to accept child support from his traitor of a father. The economy is in such a place where, in order to work a full-time job, I have to afford daycare as my son is, again, only 3. I called many places in town. One place is free, but they're only open for 4 hours a day. Another place is also only 4 hours a day and they cost 156.00 per WEEK. I'd have to make a minimum of 16.00 an hour and on top of that, accept what his father pays in order to get he and I better accommodations.

Right now, my son and I are living in a travel trailer on my grandmother's property. It could be worse, absolutely. But rent is 400.00 a month and that covers electricity and water and trash. I pay for internet and my own telephone bill. We have central air, we have heat. We have food, we have clean running water, we have everything we need. At the same time, I want to have an actual house. Something larger, something he can have more of his own space in. Something I can have my own space in. I know one day, we will get there, but as of right now, I'm barely able to work. My sister watches my son for me while I take up some housekeeping jobs. After paying her, I may bring him anywhere from just 20.00 to 50.00. I clean a church every Saturday and that pays my rent. But how am I ever supposed to move forward? Savings? What savings? I haven't been able to save for anything ever since I lost my job at Publix-and don't even get me started on that fiasco.

I do have a book I'm trying to get published. A fantasy book. It's got romance, adventure, elves, faeries, vampires, magic, passionate encounters from the same sex and it's 215 pages long so far. Maybe I'll get lucky and get the damned thing published and I'll be rich and then I can take my asshole ex to court so I can retrieve the rest of my mental wellness and then in the mean time my physical wellness will get better and maybe one day, eventually, soon, hopefully, I can get out of this fucking rut and provide for my son the way I know I should be able to.

One can hope, right?