Managing Life, Recovery & Everything In-Between

Hey, hey, hey! What’s up, everybody? I know it’s been a while since my last blog post. I always start by promising myself (and all of you) that I'll do better at posting regular updates, but let's be real—sometimes life has other plans. Finding both the time and the right mindset to sit down and write is way harder than I expect it to be. Even though writing itself isn’t technically difficult, the actual act of doing it just...is. But I’m here now, and I hope everyone’s been well.

So, a lot has been happening, and I felt it was time to finally share what's been going on in my world.

About three weeks ago, my husband had surgery on his right ankle. To rewind a bit—around six months ago, he tripped on a rock (seriously, damn that rock!) and injured his ankle pretty badly. Initially, we figured it was just a sprain. Doctors thought the same thing and told him it would heal with rest. Weeks passed, but his ankle was still swollen and clearly not okay. After insisting he reach out to the VA for more testing, an MRI finally revealed some damage. Turns out his ligaments were okay, but his tendons—not so much. Surgery was the only way to fix it.

Fast-forward to today, and now my husband is completely non-weight-bearing on his right leg. We’re looking at months of recovery, definitely more than six to eight weeks. For now, he gets around using a knee scooter, which, while helpful, is pretty clunky and awkward to maneuver everywhere. He's mostly resting, following his PT’s advice, but it’s tough for him. I know he wishes he could do more to help, but his job right now is to heal, and that's mentally challenging in its own right.

And as for me? Well, needless to say, life has become overwhelming. My days are non-stop from morning until bedtime, with small, fleeting moments of rest sprinkled in between. Our mornings feel incredibly long. Before, my husband could help out with our daughter, but now the morning routine falls entirely on me. I get her up, ready, and off to school, then head to work, which is an hour-long commute each way.

Once my workday ends, I’m right back on the road again, driving another hour to pick her up. Thankfully, the school itself is only five minutes away from our home, making that part a bit easier, but by the time we finally get home, it’s straight into homework, snacks, and dinner prep. With my husband recovering, all the household tasks—cooking, cleaning, laundry, errands—are on me, and it’s honestly exhausting. I no longer have his support with day-to-day tasks, and adjusting has definitely been challenging.

I'm grateful that my daughter, at nine years old, is becoming more independent. She handles many tasks on her own, which helps immensely. But let's keep it real—she's still a kid, and I find myself repeating instructions a lot. I often have to double-check if she’s done things properly (or at all). It's a constant balancing act between appreciating her growth and remembering she still needs plenty of guidance.

With everything piling up, saying "I'm tired" has become my go-to phrase lately—but honestly, "tired" feels like an understatement. The mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion from managing all the things I’m responsible for, day in and day out, is intense. There are days when all I want to do is cry—days when I'm snappy, irritated, and honestly, a bit bitchy. I’ve found myself snapping at my husband and daughter more than I like. But the beautiful thing is, we're able to talk openly about it afterward. I apologize, explain my feelings, and my husband listens. He understands and wishes he could help more than he's able. I also know he's dealing with his own mental strain, having to sit around and not be as active as he's used to.

And as if we didn’t have enough going on already, we recently received some difficult news: my father-in-law, my husband's dad, was diagnosed with a rare disease called amyloidosis. For those who aren't familiar (I wasn’t either!), amyloidosis is a disease characterized by a buildup of abnormal proteins, called amyloid, in the body’s organs. It can be genetic or acquired, but in either case, there’s no cure. Treatment primarily involves lifestyle changes, like diet and exercise, as well as chemotherapy, which he recently began. The hope is that chemo will slow down or manage the buildup of amyloid protein in his kidneys and prevent further damage to his organs. He'll undergo weekly chemotherapy sessions for six months, after which doctors will assess progress and determine the next steps.

Hearing this news was a huge shock. It's scary, overwhelming, and honestly, a bit wild to think about how rare this disease is—there aren't many cases, and there isn’t a ton of research or widespread awareness. Thankfully, my father-in-law is working with a specialist in Ohio, near where my husband's parents live, so he's getting the best care possible.

Still, knowing someone you love is going through chemotherapy is incredibly tough. My husband and I have been checking in regularly on him and my mother-in-law, recognizing that chemotherapy is not only physically draining but emotionally exhausting too. Thankfully, I’ve also found support and advice from a close friend who is a cancer survivor and is familiar with chemotherapy. She’s given me some insights and comfort, and I’m immensely grateful to have her guidance.

Through all of this chaos, I'm incredibly grateful for cannabis. It's been an essential part of my wellness routine, helping calm my mind, soothe my anxiety, and keep my mood stable. On those overwhelming mornings or stressful evenings, a dab or a bowl (or two or three, honestly!) helps me find calmness. It's during these moments that I'm able to step back, reflect, and reconnect with my family in a healthier, kinder way.

Despite everything, I'm trying to remember to be gentle with myself. Not everything has to get done perfectly or immediately. If dinner ends up being cereal or sandwiches, that's okay. If the grass grows a bit too long because neither of us can mow it—fine. Maybe I’ll hire someone. Maybe I'll find another solution. What matters most is that we're all doing our best and taking things one day at a time.

I've also stepped back a bit from social media. It's not because I don't enjoy it—I genuinely do—but managing content creation on top of everything else has just felt like too much right now. When I do create, it's because it brings me genuine joy. I've also found happiness in my new job at the salon, where I’m reconnecting with hair styling and makeup artistry again. Doing makeup has always been my happy place, and having that back has definitely brought me some much-needed positivity.

To wrap this all up—I know things are tough, but I keep reminding myself: I've got this. One day we'll look back and think, "Wow, I made it through that? I'm pretty damn amazing." Honestly, some days I already feel that way.

Thanks so much for reading this far. I know this was a long entry, and it's a lot to take in—trust me, I feel it too. I appreciate you all being here, witnessing my journey, and sharing in my struggles and growth. If you're feeling overwhelmed right now, remember you're not alone. To all the single parents out there—you're MVPs! Seriously, how do you do it?

No promises on when I'll write next (my neurodiversity won't allow for promises, haha!), but I'll update you when I can. Until then, take care of yourselves, and remember: one day at a time.

With love,

Krystale