The
Initial Event
I’m
assuming that you’re like us, that there was some kind of accident or fall or
unplanned event. And I’m assuming the doctors have said your spouse will get
better eventually, but you’re facing weeks or months for recovery.
If your
spouse hurt himself trying out for a Funniest Home Video program, you have my
sincere sympathies. He’s hopefully realizing he’s an idiot, so no reason to
point it out to him. At least, not too often. Guilt should be used sparingly!
My
husband, who’s not an idiot, went from working out twice a week, hiking,
driving, and other normal activities to being bedridden in about 2 seconds
flat. He simply got up sleepy and fell at our home in the middle of the night.
After
asking him—between moans—if he could roll over or get up, and determining he
couldn’t, I called 911. Soon there were two firetrucks and an ambulance
outside, and somewhere between 8-10 people running around my house. My hubs is
a big guy, 6’4” and 220 pounds, and he fell in our upstairs rooms. It took six
beefy EMTs to carry him down our stairs to a gurney. It happened to be early on
a holiday—July 4, before fireworks and all those injuries—so the ER was fairly
empty. X-rays were taken, diagnosis given (broken hip), and surgery happened
before noon.
After
that, he spent two nights in the hospital and then was sent to rehab for three
and a half weeks. He has other health problems, including autoimmune issues,
and a complicated medication schedule which they never did get right. And
somehow, he ended up on six—yes, six—different pain killers and sedatives at
once. Yeah, it didn’t go well.
One thing
I had to be was an advocate for him. I must have complained to
every doctor, nurse, case worker and anyone else who would listen that his meds
were wrong. He was everything from groggy to delirious and his therapists noted
he didn’t do well on his exercises. Duh! I still think they released him to home
care because they were tired of me bitching.
I admit,
I’m good at that.
I also
have to admit I’m not good at dealing with people who are delirious. I sat
seven full hours one day with a completely out-of-it guy who is normally
brilliant. I’m still bugging him about the weird stuff he said!
Don’t be afraid to speak out. Your
partner needs someone to look out for his best interests. On our second round
when he broke his other hip, I sent a detailed email to rehab with exact
medicine schedule and what I needed him to be able to do before he came home.
Since it was during the coronavirus pandemic, I couldn’t go there in person,
but the email apparently made a difference and his stay turned out much better.
However,
what all this meant for me, the caregiver, was a totally disrupted schedule.
We’re retired, so I didn’t have to deal with work outside the home, but we had
home repairs scheduled, bills to pay, yard work, and all the usual household
and social obligations. These were normally shared tasks, but I now had to deal
with all of it by myself. And the meetings and activities I used to do on my
own—now gone by the wayside because I needed to be home to take care of him.
My credo
for this time: “When the going gets tough, the tough lower their standards.”
Simple
fact: You can’t and shouldn’t expect to do it all. I read on the
internet—so you know it’s true!—that unmade beds air better and you get fewer
dust mites. Air-dried dishes save towel laundry. Dirt means you have an active,
happy household. Seriously, lighten your must-do list. It’s OK to do the
minimum for a while.
And if
you’re like me, it’s hard to accept help. But as humbling as it is, you need it
and must resign yourself to accepting it.
