Tolerance

So, Son has his car. He's head over heels for the thing. Drama Queen has been out of town for a couple of weeks, while all this is going on. He sent her a picture of it, but she's not impressed. Her only question:

Does it have side-curtain airbags?

I about laughed myself unconscious.

All weekend, I've been asking Son if he's told her that he got it. "No," he says, sheepishly. Finally, yesterday, he says he told her.

"Must have gone well," I said. "I didn't see a mushroom cloud."

He shot a look at me. "Oh, I missed the mushroom cloud," I said.

"I'm still waiting for it," he said. "I waited until she was on her way back home, so she'd be in a good mood."

So, he actually plotted this out.

"I don't know if that helped," he said. "After I told her, all her texts back to me were one-word messages."

I grimaced. So did he. "Yeah, I know," he said. "I'm waiting for the fallout."

I had an image in my head of Drama Queen seeing the car for the first time. Arms folded. Frown in place. Disapproving. Taking the fun out of it for him.

"Listen, Son. You should enjoy this. Don't let her put a damper on it. And no matter what, don't allow her to make you sell it. Even if you marry her. This is how I look at that. I hate it when women marry a man, then expect him to change what he loves because she doesn't like it. She married him knowing about his cars, motorcycles, hobbies....all that. To make him dump it after you're married isn't fair. You work together and compromise, but you don't demand that it goes away."

He considered this. "I think you're right. As long as it doesn't take time away from your relationship, you can work together to make both people happy."

I gave him the example of my Ex loving to fly r/c planes. "I married your dad knowing he loved to go fly those things. I could have demanded he get rid of them and spend the time with me, but all I'd do is be taking away a little of his joy. Instead, he'd fly part of a Saturday and spend time with me the rest. It works."

She's back in town now. Keep your fingers crossed for him. I have a feeling her reaction will test the limits of the things I tolerate well.

I also had to tolerate an irate email from my Ex. I think Daughter told him about the car because Son doesn't speak to him anymore (long story, for another time). Ex said: "I want to go on record as saying I'm completely against Son getting this car. With his behavior, he doesn't deserve it. He should earn such a thing. You are only rewarding his bad behavior."

Uhm, no. He is earning it. He worked out payments to his grandpa. He's cut his hair and is getting a job. If he doesn't pay for it, then grandpa sells it. The price he paid for it is equal to the value of the engine alone.

So, I replied to Ex's declaration with one word: "Okay." Think he could hear the shrug in email?

Unfortunately, I'm having to tolerate more of something else well. I learned how to do this when I was about 15 years old. I had a lot of pain, and no one could figure out why. One doctor told me I was making it up for attention. I cried my way out of his office. Finally, someone noticed something on a past blood test. Ah-ha!

I'd had my appendix out months before. Turns out, I didn't need it out. I had Rheumatic Fever, and it mimicked the symptoms. It left me with a little gift. I had Junior Rheumatoid Arthritis.

I learned to tolerate a lot of pain for a long time. I put pipe insulation around pens and pencils, to do my homework. I had to stop horseback riding. I pushed through orchestra by doing paraffin baths on my hands every night. I watched my body change with the effects of steroids. It went into remission when I was 19, but my knee still hurts when the weather changes or I bump it just so.

Now, in recent weeks, I'm worried. I'm in pain. A lot of pain. All the time. Head-to-toe aches. It started with the migraine, the one that lasted for weeks. Now, the head feels okay most days, but everything else hurts. I refuse to stay on the morphine. I can't live like that. The doctor thinks it's tension-related, but she hasn't run blood tests and scans yet.

I'm almost afraid for that, but I'm being pushed to the wall by this. I'm really, really tired of feeling bad. It's not me. It's not how I want to live my life. Life is too short to spend it sitting and hurting or whacked out on pain medication. I don't like feeling like an invalid, or having others look at me that way.

I guess I'm a little scared. I keep telling myself the thing that's become my mantra -- this too shall pass.