I find that time is getting away from me, lately. The month of July has been a blur of activity upon activity. I have been out of town three times. I feel as though I haven’t seen the cats in weeks. Today Tristan and I started getting the house back in order, after ignoring its dilapidation in favor of packing and unpacking, working, entertaining, and, especially, whenever possible, resting and sleeping.
I was surprised just now to look and see that I had not written anything since April. That seems wrong, but I suppose it isn’t. I can tell you what happened in May and June, though. I don’t even have to try to think about it.
In May and June Tristan was sick.
Tristan had been getting sicker and sicker for months, but May and June were the worst. He was dizzy and nauseous. He could not get out of bed. Life, for me, for those two months consisted of working and caring for him. Seeing as I am also a caregiver at work, I found myself profoundly exhausted.
I don’t mean to make myself sound exceptionally self-sacrificing, or to say that these two months were nothing but a joyless slog of woe. On days when Tristan was feeling better, and when I was in a good mood, we would spend hours laughing and playing around. We had a lot of fun. We just did it in the confines of the tiny upstairs bedroom where he spent all of his time.
I suppose it is understandable that I didn’t have a lot to say during that time, because documenting a series of neurology appointments, EEGs, MRIs, psychiatrist appointments and ER visits, which resulted in basically nothing at all would be as fruitless as it would be tedious.
(As a side note, my job during those two months was indeed a joyless slog of woe, but that it another story, and, as it has resolved itself and work has returned to being perfectly acceptable, I will not document that part of my life and endeavor to put it from my mind.)
Around the middle of June, Tristan suggested to his doctors that his medication might be causing his symptoms. He has been tapering off of it, since then, and it seems like he may have been right. It could also be a coincidence, and he may have just started getting better on his own. The doctors are as mystified as the rest of us.
July 8th was Tristan’s birthday. It also happens that the 8th of July was our relationship’s half-birthday, or our bi-anniversary, I suppose. He was feeling a lot better, and decided to take me to the coast for the weekend.
We stayed at an older resort in Yachats, OR called The Adobe. We had a room with a back door that opened onto the ocean. I was able to walk right out to the edge of the lawn outside our door, hunker down behind some weeds and take this picture.
Tristan had been cooped up in that room so long, feeling so terrible, that he got very excited about his ability to move and be outside. He scrambled over all the rocks on that shore. He told me that we had to get to the beach waaay over there before the tide came in, so we better get going right now! I told him that he looked like a bunny rabbit.
This is not the beach waaay over there. This is a beach tucked between some rocks, which I declared to be a fair compromise, and the farthest point to which I would be adventuring. We had the beach entirely to ourselves, and took off our socks and shoes to run in the waves for a while. The wind almost blew away our socks and shoes, though luckily they did not get very far. Oregon beaches are not like California beaches, I have noticed. Not very much like them at all. Very beautiful, though.
Tristan doesn’t like to have his picture taken, though I have been given special dispensation a few times. He especially doesn’t like to have his picture posted online. Shadows are alright, though, I understand.
A few hours after this picture, after we had scrambled back across the rocks and back to the hotel room, Tristan, curled miserably on the bed, asked me why he felt so sick again. I told him that it was probably because he had used all his energy in being a bunny rabbit.
He agreed that that was what had done it and declared it absolutely worth it.
The weekend after that, we went on a three-day-long pirate-festival camping adventure, and, this latest weekend, found ourselves in Bend, with my parents and their best friends, who had come up to visit for my birthday, which is coming up on Friday. July has been so much fun, and I am satisfied and exhausted. I think that what I would really like for my birthday, is just to relax and to stay right here.