Rosa and I were sitting on the couch. She was watching some banal television show.
"What are you going to do in nine months?" she asked me.
"Would do you mean?" I asked.
"Your disability will run out and you will have no way to pay for your medications."
"I am hoping they will have a pay-to-stay-in plan I can utilize," I replied.
"What about your Dad and the medications?"
"We will still be able to do that," I told her. "Work will start at 11 PM eastern time. They are on central time."
"What if you have one of your panic attacks?"
"Then I will just breath deep and take a break. Probably go have a cigarette."
"I am just scared for you," Rosa told me. "I just don't want things to get messed up."
"And that's why I love you," I said. "You genuinely care about me."
Rosa is in the kitchen now making some supper. We are having cubed steak, creamed potatoes, and creamed corn. The smells are wonderful. I realize there are so many questions to me returning to work. I can understand Rosa's concern. It is going to be okay, though. I will know in a few weeks if I will be able to continue.