There are times when your cup runneth over and it feels like Niagra Falls coming at you.
I expected that today would be an exercise in frustration because the high winds refuse to die down, and I still can't find any help to finish the single wide and get the roof on the barn. These shocking migraines continue to plague me - and quite honestly I am beyond panic struck. I started to have some serious anxiety attacks as March went into April without any progress.
Before noon I received a phone call that my youngest daughter was being admitted into the hospital with a mass in her lungs that looks too much like lung cancer for comfort. Without a correct diagnosis it's too early to start to panic - but with a family history of cancer and lung cancer after the phone call came it was too late to tell me that I shouldn't panic. Panic was right on the top of the list and I managed to succeed doing that with as much proficiency as I have failed getting into a home.
Being homeless desperately trying to get a house finished for this length of time brings such insecurity that you can never get your feet on the ground - you remain dangling off a cliff vulnerable to everything. Your earning potential is depleted, you are chained to the absolute desperation of trying to do what starts to look impossible. Get a roof over your head and be able to spend time with your mother and family, return to your career. HAVE a life.
I'm unsure if I should throw caution to the wind and travel across the country to see to my youngest daughter - or pull my hair out in frustration. I can't imagine the sheer terror they are going through with no health insurance and finances already stretched to the limit.
No ordinary work done by a man is either as hard or as responsible as the work of a woman who is bringing up a family of small children; for upon her time and strength demands are made not only every hour of the day but often every hour of the night. ~ Theodore Roosevelt
