Waiting. And then some more stuff.

Well, it looks like my Military Spouse of the Year nomination was a fluke. I was nominated, and my name was on the web site, but I didn't make the final five. I wasn't sure that I was the right spouse for the job, anyway. I live in a gritty, honest world and we all know only the pretty and triumphant tend to grace those pages. Aaron and I are triumphant every day, but we haven't quite "arrived" yet. So I'm all good!

Yesterday just took it out of me. I went with Aaron to a few of his appointments, and it was just wait, wait, wait. And of course no one tells you it takes 1.5 hours to process paperwork, or an hour to fill two prescriptions on that pharmacy (Aaron has a "warrior card" that puts him ahead of the thick at the pharmacy to prevent that, but whatever). Sometimes, it's just all stupid. We came home and had about half an hour before dinner, and I just sat down and didn't say a word. Aaron missed his most important appointments- PT/OT- because of BS and it was just so frustrating. But we all know how it is- that's the way it's always been, so that's the way it'll always be! Why fix what's broken but everybody still engages?!

You know,  I try not to let mean and crazy people live rent-free in my head but sometimes it's hard to shake being angry and frustrated that you've been judged by people who honestly have no clue what your life is like. It's not that it hurts; it's just infuriating. I feel like it's almost as if someone is ungrateful for what is going on here. Not just me, but all the families here. We count pills, attend appointments, give injections, carry limbs, treat wounds, pick up dropped things that can't be reached by a man in a wheelchair, do all the housekeeping, forget to feed ourselves some days- the list goes on. Some of us might not ever conceive a child because of the injuries. And we do all this for your soldier's wounded comrade. It's not just my husband, it's the soldier yours served with. I'm taking damn good care of him. I just honestly don't understand how someone could call me a dishonor to my husband and his unit. Perhaps it's indignant of me, but I don't think anyone has any business judging a damn thing I say until the bottom of their shoes look like mine. No one else's opinion really matters so much to me that I'm going to think of every single person as I write and say the things I do, anyway. I'm sharing my journey, and everyone can take it or leave it. Don't get your feelings hurt- it's not personal.

Three months ago I was burning up the ground between the Navy Lodge and the hospital, and it felt like hell. Two months ago we were discharged from the hospital and put into our little apartment on hospital grounds, and it was overwhelming and beautiful and beyond difficult. A month ago we were getting ready to go home for Christmas, something we didn't even think was going to be possible. This is one hell of journey we're on, with its emotional ups and downs. Deployment was rough, no doubt. But I'd give anything to be back in those shoes instead of these. But this is the path we were put on, and we're going to own it. We are going to be the best we'll ever be, and blaze away from here in about year. It's changing me and him all the time, and at the end of the day I will always say this: I am lucky to be here with him.