I am very proud of my husband.
He is in excruciating pain and not sleeping much, if at all, because of it yet he is on the phone every day, calling the people who are supposed to be helping him. He is the squeaky wheel and he does it even though he's not operating with all spokes (in a due-to-pain-and-exhaustion kind of way!).
In January, he was told six to eight weeks.
In early February, he was told end of March.
In late February, he was told end of April.
Are you frikkin' kidding me??
His arm is getting worse; now he's experiencing pain and reduced function in his thumb. He's really worried he's going to lose the use of his right arm. Let me tell you, we need an income from him; we can't live on my part-time community newspaper salary. He knows that so I'm sure that's just another worry for him on top of everything else.
I did sell a commentary to the Halifax newspaper that should be in this Sunday's paper so that was a highlight. Doesn't pay a dollar a word but it does pay.
And even with that, my natural optimism reasserts itself. I must keep at my writing and keep the hope that good news will come to Dwayne shortly. Maybe March will be our magical month.