Lifesavers for Latasha

Originally written on July, 11, 2024, Day 10 of the HLT Journey.

As I sit here today writing this, I feel frustrated and defeated for many reasons, most of which I won’t get into. Primarily, it isn’t productive, and it isn’t pleasant.

But I digress. A common phrase in my professional background and world is that hope is not a strategy. What does that mean? I pose this question because hope is helpful and necessary when recovering and setting dreams and goals for the future.

But again, Hope isn’t a strategy, nor is it a way of planning. Hence my massive stress levels. They are running high because my inner voice says, “Chris, I hope this works, or I sure hope this doesn’t fall through.” It’s not a comfortable place for someone like me who is always in control of things—or at least I think I am.

How naive, right?

I’ve been thinking a lot about hope and the power of having or not having it. Having it drives positivity, drive, and something to achieve. How can that be bad?

But does it create false expectations or a too Pollyanish point of view that makes such a high cliff of letdown that it can destroy oneself? I guess this is the glass half full or half empty argument: pessimism vs. Optimism, the fight of good vs. evil.

I don’t know, but I suppose it combines both. You plan the plan, work the problem, and hope for the best outcome possible based on the former.

Regardless, hope can be a savior or a massive punch in the gut when it doesn’t work out. But I go back to the fact that life is messy. We must embrace the mess or try our hardest to embrace it. It’s not easy by any means.

I find myself waning in hope and positivity when I feel like some people around me don’t listen and don’t care about what I need or want. That drives stress, anxiety, and anger for a multitude of reasons, but this exact thing drives me to be private and not let people in. It’s exhausting trying to cater to people when no one caters to you when it’s your situation and life problem.

A transplant is a significant life situation, regardless of the organ or how many or how long the hospital stays. It is a considerable life problem that impacts many people positively and negatively—chaos and stability in its rawest form.

If you’ve read this far, I suppose this is more of a venting of built-up emotions, but it’s also a cautionary tale about being prepared. Be prepared to fight alongside your loved one; if your hope fails, so can theirs. If you bring negativity to their bedside, you’ll spread it like cancer. So, for this reason, I keep it to myself and suffer in silence because it’s the caregiver’s and spouse’s job to get them better.

Is that healthy? Maybe not, but the hard necessary isn’t ever easy or convenient. We get it done at whatever the cost. Or at least that’s my mantra.

Be prepared for others to make your situation theirs and potentially gaslight you, hijack your emotions, or project into you.

I suppose this is why they say the bad brings out the good in people and shows you people’s true character. It reveals that which was hidden. It shows true agendas.

Don’t get me wrong; this is reality and not unknown to me. I understand politics and people better than most, but it is overwhelming when all your other energy is focused on the one you love and ensuring they’re being cared for. Being taken advantage of or mistreated is the furthest thing from your mind, and when it boils over, it drives an unparalleled amount of anger and frustration that eats you alive.