Just Another Semantic Sunday: The Study of Meaning

“If you were there, I don’t need to explain. If you weren’t there, I can’t explain.”

The above is a common axiom of the United States Marines dating back to the World Wars.

In no way do I even dare to compare Leukemia to a war on the ground, air or sea. However, I found this saying  to be quite fitting when I try to explain my state of mind when it comes to a war against a child’s body and being the primary one to witness it. So many people are so encouraging and kind. Many have visited and spent long hours here and even spent the night. If this were not the case, I’m not sure I would be any use to Ashton or myself. Nothing can compare to watching it first-hand, being a nurse (my new heroes), or being the one afflicted. Not in that order.

Someone asked me today what I am reading. I have a stack of fine literature to devour but I am an odd bird. I adore reading, I am somewhat addicted to it, yet when times are rough I always quit. I can’t focus. I can’t read the same sentence over and over again. I shut down and over-think or try not to think at all. I am so grateful that someone, somewhere, at the beginning of this mess suggested a blog. It was meant to keep people abreast of Ashton’s condition so that I wouldn’t have to field questions via telephone or email. It has turned in to so much more.

It is what I look forward to. Emptying my head in front of you poor souls who dare to log in. When I look back on my archives, I see a story somewhere in there. Maybe it will someday be an inspiration to another single mom in a similar situation. If not, it will be something Ashton can go to in order to put some semblance to what he went through and the knowledge that his mother took the time to document it.

Speaking of which, I was born in the 70’s and if you were, too, you know Three’s Company. Man, this made my entire thus far nine hour day with six hours left. I accidentally found it while scrolling through the channels. There was Janet with her mullet  and Chrissy in her Mom jeans and Mr. Furley with a sash on his neck. At one point they made a phone call using a telephone and they looked up the number with a phone book. I almost fell off the hospital bed. Ashton was like, what the hell is THAT? What’s so funny?

I was like, the 70’s were funny.

Did I mention I hate Sundays? I always have, but hospital Sundays are particularly brutal. I don’t like the slow pace of any Sunday. It’s so slow here they offer free parking. I like a little hustle and bustle and so does Ash. No one visits in the Bible Belt on Sunday because everyone goes to church. I find that…to be somewhat odd. I think, and I don’t get any points for thinkin’,  if I were of the church-going persuasion I would do something different on the Lord’s Day. I actually do like church. However, I can thank God from my knees at my bedside. From this experience, and seeing all those who volunteer on every day of the week, I know I can make a difference somehow after this is all said and done. I couldn’t NOT do something. I owe so much to so many graceful people. Thankfully, we are ending the day. 3:47:55 EST, but who’s counting?