Lisa Fama
(Caution: some graphic content ahead)
A few months ago, I saw a piece of art on Facebook Marketplace of a mermaid tail made of shells with the saying “She is tossed by the waves but does not sink.” I drove to Amesbury to buy it because it spoke to me. After having lost my husband and gone through a life-threatening illness, I developed a mantra: “this will pass.” It got me through many tough times. When I applied it, it always worked. Of course, some things passed much slower than others, and some things, like losing Tony, will probably never pass but at least they become bearable.
Even before surgery, I was on a lot of medication, as well as IV drips and blood transfusions. Some of the medications had unfortunate side effects, like Lactulose, which has the texture of maple syrup but none of the good flavor. Its purpose was to prevent the toxins in my sick liver from traveling to my brain and making me crazy. For example, I lost all of Easter Sunday 2023 because I had no idea who I was or where I was. Tony took me to the hospital because he was so concerned that I wasn’t myself, and they started asking me questions that I couldn’t answer. He had to leave to take care of our dog, but I figured I could call him later to update him. Except I couldn’t remember his phone number and although I had my phone handy, too many attempts to unlock it with my passcode rendered it useless for an hour or so (I couldn’t remember that either). When I woke up, I learned it was Monday and that Easter was over.
This horrible medication, which ended up working a few hours after I took it, had the lovely side effect of making me run to the bathroom on a moment’s notice, and also made me sick to my stomach at the same time. I’ll share a story that’s the perfect example of using “this will pass” to get through something awful while hanging on to my sense of humor for dear life.
Here I am, doing what you do when you are “outputting” from both ends of your body and feeling totally miserable. I remember thinking that I might just stay on the bathroom floor that night, because I was completely exhausted and the tile was cool. All the while repeating to myself “this will pass” because I truly felt absolutely awful. Anyway, I can’t leave the position I’m in for the time being, and I look over to my left, where I see one sole carpenter ant on the shower floor. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I simply planned my eventual move. When I could, I carefully opened the shower door and dispatched him.
I make it to bed. My sleep is terrible again, as usual. While I’m trying to relax, all I can think of is “I have an incredible support system between family and friends, but what if Mr. Ant has a support system as well?” And I’m convinced I’ll wake up in the morning and see a hundred ants in my shower. Of course, they all have Italian accents, and they say, “we understand you had a problem with our brother.” Luckily, that did not happen, but the memory still makes me chuckle!
I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Lying in a hospital bed during three hours of dialysis, three times a week. “This will pass.” Having five liters of fluid taken out of your belly once a week with what had to be an 8-inch needle. “This will pass.” Having a catheter inserted in your carotid artery for pictures of your heart while you are moaning in terrible pain. “This will pass.” Being in the ICU fighting despair while waiting and praying for an end to this torment. “This will pass.” There are so many more examples of when I had to use this mantra. Try it yourself because as dire as things may seem, they will, eventually, pass.
And so far, although the waves have certainly tossed me about, I haven’t sunk!
Lisa Marchionda Fama is a retired attorney who has lived in Marblehead for seven years, loves this town, and hopes she never leaves. Visit her blog at TheSoberWidow.com.
