Saturday, August 23, 2008

Back after hiatus

Wow, it's been a year since I wrote anything here. Death and destruction does that to me.

I have cried a lot in the last year.

My father-in-law passed away in February 2007. That's when my life went to hell in a handbasket, because I had to start taking care of my mother-in-law, who has Parkinson's. Spending every day with her seriously exhausts me and destroys my efforts at promoting my books and T-shirts. Revenue plummeted.

Then in May 2008, my husband had a stroke. His entire left side was paralyzed and he spent three weeks in the hospital trying to recover. He still has a lot of weakness on his left side. I visited him every day with a smile on my face. When I got home, I wept.

He has returned to work, although his left arm hangs limply by his side and he has to walk with a cane. But for him to return to work, it is necessary for me to drive him there.

So I get up at 3 AM. I get myself ready, then help husband out of bed. This requires phenomenal upper body strength, something I didn't know I had until this happened. Then it's off to the bathroom. I help him with cleaning and personal hygiene issues. Then I help him dress. This routine takes an hour.

Around 4:30 AM we get in the car and head for his office. We leave so early in the morning because the 55 mile commute takes us through the heart of the city and this is the only way to navigate the traffic and road construction without long, gas-guzzling delays.

When we arrive, I help him out of the car, and carefully place his computer bag on his shoulder, across his chest. It's important to get it positioned just right so it doesn't unbalance him and cause a fall. He needs assistance into the building because the double set of doors don't both open when pushing the handicap button, only the first set does. It's hard to open a door that pulls toward you when you use a cane with your one good arm.

Once he's inside safely, I get back in the car, and fight the urge to cry. Suck it up, start the car and drive 55 miles back home. The day has only begun.

Soon I have to go to grandma's. She will tell me all the things I am doing wrong in my life. I love her and she is family, but some days I don't like her very much. But I've had to ask her for money, so she pretty much owns me. We will go grocery shopping, or to a doctor appointment. We visit a lot of doctors.

I will spend most of the day with her, running errands and doing chores, then I will get in the car and drive to husband's office to pick him up. He will need some help getting into the car. We will drive back home and I will do my best not to bitch about his mother.

We'll go inside and I'll help him go to the bathroom. Then he usually goes in to take a nap. I use this free time to visit with daughter, check e-mail, visit Twitter and blog buddies. Then it's time to make dinner. Before serving his, I need to cut everything up into bite-size pieces. After dinner I clean up the kitchen, tidy up the house, check the bank balance, pick which bills get paid this month (it won't be all of them) do laundry and all the other things that it takes to keep a household going. Some days we go to the park for a walk. We walked every day before he returned to work, but neither of us has the strength for that now.

In the evening, I return to the internet, watch a little TV, take a bath. Attempt to make light of the situation to friends and family. Struggle to remember the importance of a sense of humor. Try to turn in early but can't sleep....too hot, too worried - can't get brain to shut up. The bills, prescriptions, doctors & therapists, the extra gasoline for all the driving, the worry of how complete his recovery will be...all fighting for attention. I want to cry, but not upset him, so I go to the bathroom and muffle the sound with a towel over my mouth.

The alarm clock goes off at 3 AM, and it all starts again.

I don't mean to sound like I'm whining. I realize there are millions of people who have bigger problems than mine. I just needed to get this out, hoping that by writing the words down, I can release some of the pressure.

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