Alone Time

Today has been such a typical Walter Reed day. I awoke this morning to the high-pitched clangor of my cell phone. As usual it rang before my alarm could even think about going off. I laid in bed staring at the caller id wishing it was a family member that I could quietly ignore for the time being and drift back off to sleep. Instead it was... as it always seems to be... a number that I had never seen before in my life. Reluctantly I took the call hoping it would be someone I could quickly escape from. No luck. Thus a new day dawned at Walter Reed and it was time to roll out of bed, glue on my everything is fine face, and meet the world with ceaseless "enthusiasm."

It's now 11:51 am and already my phone has rang ten times. In between phone calls I was able to sneak in a shower. I gave up on trying to dry my hair and curl it. I didn't even put makeup on today. I just ran out the door and met J.R. in occupational therapy. I arrived just in time to see my husband run off on a field trip with fellow soldiers to Home Depot. I can only pray that the therapist taking J.R. into that store knows what he is in for. Many times have I been suckered into a "quick" run to Home Depot only to follow my husband as he continues his quest to own every tool known to man kind. This often takes a short eternity leaving me tired, crabby, and poor. But today I can sit back and enjoy some time alone as he bonds with men wearing orange aprons.

Thinking that I could escape to the solitude of my room for a while I hurried back to the Fisher House for a few hours of peace and quiet. I poured my bowl of cheerios, grabbed some yogurt, and sat down for what I was hoping would be an uneventful lunch. No such luck. I was no more than two bites into my cereal when the back door opened and in walked a middle aged couple. Having never seen them before I paid very little attention as they walked into the house. And then I heard it... the words I dread the most.... "You must be Josie." I looked them up and down trying to figure out if I had met them before. With a mouth full of cheerios I said hello and did my best to make conversation. Apparently they heard about me from a woman I met over two weeks ago. This woman told them all about J.R. and our "amazing" story of recovery. I was trapped. A full bowl of cereal to go and two strange people sitting at the table with me. Longing for alone time in my room I quickly answered questions. After finishing my bowl of cereal I excused myself to my room.

I've now had almost one whole hour to sit by myself in my cracker box with my computer and think about absolutely nothing. My phone is on silent and the pile of paperwork to finish is still sitting untouched on my desk. Later this afternoon I will deal with the headache of finance and orders but until then I'm going to relax and take some time for me.