Melt Down
It's been a little over 24 hours since I returned home after my foot surgery. My original plan was to remain upstairs and rest. But yesterday around 5 p.m., I got bored of the upstairs and decided to go downstairs. No one was home and I was on the phone with my daughter. I had no problems sitting on my butt and going down the stairs. I didn't have to take the crutches with me as there was a second pair waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. It was a good move; I was happy. I made it back upstairs with little or no problems although I didn't sleep very well.
Fast forward to this morning: My son Derrick is my caretaker. He works mornings 5-10 and said he'd be home around 10:30. He'd brought up a pain pill, a banana and a tangerine to sustain me until his return.
Then it happened...I started getting anxious, I was hungry, I needed another pain pill, but they were downstairs. I decided to go downstairs again. But I couldn't remember how to get down to the ground. It was like my brain froze. I was incapable of visualizing what I needed to do. I went back to bed and called Derrick to see where he was. It was, after all, 10:35 and he wasn't home yet. (If he knew what was going through my mind, he wouldn't have come home at all!)
As soon as he got home he came upstairs to see how I was (as a good caretaker should). He found me standing, frustrated at the top of the stairs. I complained that I could not go downstairs to which he responded that I needed to stay upstairs. He asked what I wanted him to do and I said get me downstairs. He gave me instructions on how to do that and I just couldn't. I started crying and said hurtful things like, you have no compassion. You make a terrible nurse. Give me my phone so I can call 911 and get someone who cares. I was hysterical. (He probably wishes he'd video taped me!) I hobbled back to my room and plopped on my bed sobbing on how awful it was to be locked upstairs against my will. I thought of hanging a sign out the front window of my bedroom that said "Help me! I'm being held hostage!"
Soon Derrick came in with food and pain relief. I took the 'bait'. Within 15 minutes I was calmer and feeling better...but actually worse because of how I treated Derrick. He really was doing what was best for me. I apologized to him and thought of all the caretakers who are sometimes abused by the loved ones they are caring for. Keep up the good work and know that your patient is probably just hungry, tired, or in pain and not to take their grief too personally.
WE, who are and have been caregivers, know that this is the territory even before we step into the arena. Not everyone can be a caregiver. It takes observation skills, patience, and often a will of steel. Perhaps the best CGs are the ones who have suffered previously and therefore know the lay of the land. Perhaps some are just born with innate skills that allow them to sense the needs of others. Whatever the case, not all patients understand that caregivers are there because they love us. Obligation is only temporary.
ReplyDeleteI had to chuckle as I was reading your narrative. It could be used as a plot for the commercial about the candy / nutrition bar ... where the main character is acting like someone else and needs food to revert to the real world (i.e.,Marilyn Monroe).
I admit the toughest part is reminding myself I must do what is best for the injured, convalescent, dying even though they want something else. Advocate, advocate, advocate. The training at U of Michigan was invaluable to me as was the course with Hospice.
You are fortunate is two ways: one: to have people who love you and are there for you ... and two: to realize their value. Bless you and heal soon. THinking of you. pat
My doctor chuckled too, about hanging the sign on the front of the house. I think you are on to something about those who have suffered previously and know the lay of land. I was missing Haylee terribly that day too as I knew she was a more sympathetic care giver. She suffered through kidney stones 2 or 3 times a year through the last 10 years of her life. I also think of my dad, taking care of my mom the last three years of her life. I think of our friends Robin and John. Thank you for sharing your wisdom as a caregiver. I am also blessed to hear the voices of my friends.
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