…… emergency contact?
Or, in other situations …… who is your driver?

There are few things these days that can send me back to the dark days after Jim’s death, but this is one.

I hate this question.
Because in most cases, wherever I am, I don’t have an emergency contact.
And that sucks.

Later this week I am going in for a …… brace yourselves for TMI …… colonoscopy.
(Don’t be jealous.)
And because we’re all in semi-quarantine and there’s no normal anymore, I didn’t have to have someone come to the appointment with me.
I needed a driver …… someone to bring me and then take me home.
So Daughter #2 was going to fill that role.
But today, when I went in to pre-register and take the Co-Vid test (oh my word, the fun) I was told that the driver needed to come in with me and wait for me.
Daughter #2 cannot do that. She has two small sons to tend with.

The only other people I know who live in Waco are my parents. Who really don’t need to be sitting in a hospital, even with a mask on.
I felt horrible to have to ask them.
But I did.
And of course they will be there for me.

But damnit, they shouldn’t have to.
Jim should be here to do this.
And it sucks that he isn’t.

These are the days when the loss of him feels immense.
Actually, more immense than immense.
These are the days when I feel that I’m more than single/widowed.
I feel alone.

I rarely feel that way.
So yay for that.
But when it hits …… it sucks.

I am grateful for the life I have.
It’s good.
I’m good.
Almost all of the time.

Just don’t ask …… who’s your driver?