Watch out - she has cleaning supplies!

Worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry

Worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry

Stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress

Worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry

Worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry, worry

How do you handle worry? Sometimes I handle it well, sometimes I do not. Some types of stress are invigorating, others are insomnia inducing and enjoyment emptying.

OBX Engineer had surgery today. We’ve know this day was coming since October. A month ago I rearranged my travel plans so I could take him to the hospital and then to my house for recuperation. However, as the date crept closer, his plans became different from mine. He said the reason for the change was my travel schedule, he didn't want to interrupt my leaving town preperations. So he chose to stay in a hotel last night, his brother went with him to the hospital this morning, and then drove him back to the hotel after the out-patient procedure.

This is all too weird for me. Weird that even though he lives out of town and he stays at my house every other weekend when he's seeing his children, he chooses not to stay here for before and after this procedure. Not staying at his brother's place is also weird. His brother and sister-in-law live 45 miles from here. Their house is an empty-nest home – wouldn’t that be the place to recover? They have numerous cats and dogs in the house which annoy the OBX Engineer, and that was his reason for not staying there. Still you’d think he'd want to stay with family - or at least NOT IN A HOTEL at this time, wouldn’t you?

I do not understand any of this. I want to be there with him and be taking care of him. I keep reminding myself this is about "him" and not about "me". If this is how he wants it handled then I must respect this. Part of me wants to think he's just playing the "tough-guy". Part of me thinks it's more of his "protection from caring about anyone" self-defense. I keep telling myself to stop going around looking for clues and take his requests at face value.

There was no way I could sit in my office this morning while I wondered about the outcome of the surgery. I’d never be able to concentrate on the tasks at hand, or be courteous to customers, much less co-workers.

Many people tell you to “think about something else” when you’re worried. HA! Try that! It doesn’t work.

“People” will also tell you, “Don’t stress, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Double HA!

Consequently I stayed home this morning.

I handle different types of worry and stress in different ways. I love the endorphins and stress of meeting deadlines. Tight, one-minute more, and it’s too late type deadlines. This was absolutely the best part of trading and managing market-tired government payments in agriculture. Also of submitting RFP’s in the design world. Family conflict, worries about financial and employment security lead to ostrich behavior. I read, cook, eat, and entertain to distract myself. Reading is a great escape mechanism. Reading allows me to hide from crap in my life.

Today I knew there was no way I could read. Reading holds no solace if you can’t pay attention to the story. I knew every other second I’d be thinking, “I wonder if he’s scared. I was scared when I had my surgery. I wonder if they’ve prepped him. I remember being prepped. I wonder if they’ve stuck the IV …” Eh, there wasn’t too much wondering about that – needles and body fluids make me light-headed, but I knew the chorus in my head would have drowned the characters on the page.

Immediately this round robbin of thoughts was followed by, “DON’T WORRY – HE’LL BE FINE”. So yeah, reading was pretty much not a possibility today.

Another thing I do when I’m stressed or mad is throw things. Not at people – or in the house – but outside. I’ll throw rocks (okay, really pea-gravel) at trees, squirrels, neighborhood cats, anything that crosses my path and it’s all good. But – I mean, really unless you’re a professional pitcher, how long can you throw stuff?

Therefore terrorizing my backyard was only good for about a half hour.

Returning to the house I noticed my kitchen floor wasn’t REALLY that clean. (Even though I’d just mopped it on Saturday.) And the bathroom floor? Well, the grout in between the hex-tiles was looking dingy too. And how dare there still be visible dust under my couch! I just dust-mopped on Sunday how could there still be dust? My horrifically dirty woodwork also caught my eye.

With cleaning supplies in hand I tackled each job. It was great! Not great as in, “Gee it’s so nice to be cleaning”, but more “Great, something mindless to do while I chew and gnaw on the images and thoughts playing ring-around-the-rosy in my mind”.

By 11 o’clock I’d completed the kitchen, bathroom and living room. I jumped back in the shower, dressed for work – and sat here immersed with a cranky customer until Dr. Gas, the OBX Engineer’s brother, called to tell me he was out of surgery and in recovery. The procedure went well. There were no complications. Thank you God.

So tell me, what are your coping mechanisms? Are they healthy or destructive? Can you control your feelings or do they over take you? And if you throw things, can you hit your target? Because, me? I can’t hit the backside of a barn, but I feel better!