Sunday, October 2, was our one year anniversary since Paul and I made our first trip to Texas. I can’t believe it’s already been that long, or that so little has changed. I was so hopeful back then, but the reality is so much less than I’d hoped for that I’d can hardly remember my original goals. I’d planned to reread some of last year’s first entries, but never got much past the initial five before giving up in discouragement. I had been so confident that this was the right way to go, and that this was going to work, but there have been far too many downs since then and not nearly enough ups.


In truth, I can’t seem to find any way to justify continuing writing this blog either, other than that I’m too stubborn to give it up. I began this entry last Thursday (September 29th), but then never got any further than the first three or four lines before getting back off the computer. I mean, it’s been ONE ENTIRE YEAR, and I feel no better than I did the day we left last year. So what do I have to show for the time?


It took another five days before I finally came back to what I’d begun writing, and then only because it began to haunt me like unfinished business. Thinking back over the last year again I thought about how I’d really only intended to write this blog for that period of time. My working title was to be: Diary Of A Dental Revision, The First Year. But what is this ‘diary’ saying about what I’ve gone through?


So tonight I’m reassessing. Am I ready to give up? Should I say ‘uncle’ and give in to the distressing course life has taken this past year? That reminded me of one of the last conversations I had with my mother-in-law before she died, when she asked me if I still believed that what I was doing might still work. That was right before we went back to Texas in May, and I was still hopeful that getting those two cavitations cleaned out would improve matters. At that point she told me she was tired, and didn’t believe that the chemo she’d chosen as a treatment for her cancer was going to work and was curious if I felt the same about what I’d done. Back then I told her that yes, I did believe I was on  the right course, but today I have to wonder if I’d answer the same way. I am still using a walker, and last week I took another fall. I still have the same difficulty taking a shower and putting on my shoes and socks as I did last year, and I still have a hard time rolling over in bed. Life is just as difficult as it was in 2010, except that I’ve made all these changes that haven’t changed anything.


In the end, I’m wondering if my stubborn streak will kick in soon and bring back some of my earlier confidence with it. Because at the moment I’m really uncertain that what I’ve done is the right thing.

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