Merry Christmas!

Hard to believe the last entry was Thanksgiving. There's been lots of blood, sweat, tears, achy muscles, long days and nights, deaths and saves, between then and now. Life has settled and I finally have a moment to just sit and write.

Two years ago today, I got the best surprise of my life. A scavenger hunt of note cards led me, finally, to a little box from the jeweler in the bread drawer and a proposal that I had no idea was coming. Now, here we are, all finally in the same house, trying to consolidate my stuff into his house and my lifestyle/routines into theirs. It's coming together better than I ever imagined. All of my ambivalence and worries about not having "my" time have disappeared.

I'm still reeling from the activity of the past couple months. It's been a blur of going from work to my house - to get it ready for the tenant, money draining at an alarming rate from my bank account and into a house that I am leaving, to trying to fit it gym visits and mini-workouts.

There seems to be an inordinate amount of death and grief this holiday season, tempered only by our squeaking a few small victories past the Reaper. It's what keeps us going. There was the family I cried with, who found their beloved husband and father deceased in bed. They went from screaming with denial and turning to me, faces twisted in grief, "Why didn't you even try to save my dad?" - to acceptance that he had gone peacefully in his sleep, pretty much all any of us could ask for. There was the 44 year old from the other night; I just found out yesterday that she had died. I wasn't surprised at that. I had gotten to know her a few months ago when she passed out at the wheel, coming to rest on a sidewalk with no idea how she'd gotten there. She'd been in the process of a divorce and had many stressors. Some of the things she told me, and her appearance, led me to believe she'd developed an eating disorder, and possibly some sort of pill addiction. Same situation the other night, she hadn't eaten or slept for days, she was lethargic, she was falling frequently and passing out. She had been diagnosed with electrolyte imbalances the last time we transported her - red flag for an eating disorder. She didn't look great, but she didn't look like she was going to die that night, either. I didn't remember until hours after I heard she had died, the face of her pre-teen boy as we carried her down the steps of his grandparents' house. I stopped before we left and asked him if he wanted to give her a kiss.

"Oh, he's already given me one", the patient mumbled, smiling. He gave her a gentle hug, tears in his eyes.
I'm glad we stopped for that.

Later that night, an sweet older lady, her family surrounding her, having one of the biggest heart attacks I've seen in a long time. She ended up being one of those fuck-yous to the Reaper.

I've been so tired that I scraped up a car in the parking lot beside me backing out too quickly - at least I don't have to worry about where the first month of rent I collect goes. Sigh. I feel as if I've finished a marathon and I'm waiting for the next event.

My gym routine has suffered, severely. It will continue to suffer until the dreaded first of the year, when I will have to fight the New Year's Resolvers for cardio machines. However, it's time to get back into my life, my routine. I'm craving it.

My best friend in the world is having a little boy! I am deleriously happy for her, since she wasn't sure she could conceive or carry a pregnancy to term. She's halfway through a very healthy pregnancy. Miracles do happen.