Strength

I started writing this post in my head while my boyfriend was being X-Ray-ed at the Orthopaedist this afternoon. Last weekend he broke one of his knuckles on a conveyor at work. I've spent the days between trying to reassure him. He's the kind of guy who worries endlessly, afraid that he'll lose his job. He's very emotional, and it can be hard to talk him down out of his emotional tree sometimes. I hate doctors, and have had to sit in two waiting rooms this week, watching him deal with snarly receptionists, and seeing the defeat in his eyes. He's not the kind of person to just take things easy, and having even just that one finger out of commission is driving him batty, and in turn, driving me batty. I know I can't do any more for him than I already am, but now we both feel useless.

After today's appointment, it turns out he needs surgery to repair the break, and he is devastated. I'm not the optimistic sort, but right now I have to be. He's worrying and I am having to fight any worries I have. It's not a big deal, just a little work to make sure things heal, but he acts like he's going to lose his finger, and I am having to support him. Alone. It's times like this that I wish we had more of a social network, people who could listen to me talk about what is happening, and people he could talk to so that I wasn't his only friendly ear.