clickmom

unintentionally cruel

Last week I was unintentionally cruel to the husband during his appointment with his heart failure specialist. At the end of the appointment the doctor turned to me and asked me how I was doing. Always nice to get recognized for being such an attentive caregiver, but somehow mostly asked to me in front of the one person who I cannot be honest in front of. I would never say how hard it's been or how I struggle with resentment in front of my husband. For one, he would make the argument that this ordeal hasn't been hard on me, because he tries not to be more of a burden than he obviously is. This is true, he is not one for the drama. On the one hand he rarely complains, and doesn't ask for much. But on the other hand, not complaining also means that he is ignoring his own symptoms which I need to be aware of to take proper care of him. I am a pinch traumatized about him admitting to the ER doctor that he had been having chest pains before being admitted the last time. Then I am left to wonder if he was telling the doctor the answer he thought they wanted to hear, because he often does answer that way, or if he really was ignoring chest pains while suffering from congestive heart failure. Also, he doesn't ask for help and then he falls, and I don't have to explain about that.

Anyways, back to the topic. It was the end of the husband's appointment and the doctor asked if I had help coming into the house (NO) or if our kids were still around to help (NOPE) and then I said their ages. The doctor said he was at the beginning of his parenting journey. His kids are 8 months and 3 years old. I clasped my hands together and declared my love and adoration for babies. He whipped out his phone to show me pictures. I got misty eyed looking at his beautiful little girls. I asked if they had grandparents around. He said NO, so I joked about me being the Auntie and watching his kids (I want to be around babies, like you wouldn't believe!) and said he should have called me when the husband was in the rehab and I had free time. AND there you go. Ouch. It just came out and I didn't mean to be mean. I think that stung a bit.  When we got back into the car to drive home after the visit I said something about the husband's father, who died right before 29 turned 3 years old. And the husband angrily says "Don't talk about my dad you didn't even know him!" I was speechless. SPEECHLESS. For about 10 seconds.....  and then I told him (while choking on tears) that he had no idea that I had a whole relationship with his dad that he was not present for. (All the truth) And I listed all of the times his dad used to come and see me, and then come visit me and 29, and all the things we used to do together. I couldn't believe that he was saying what he was saying. I loved his dad and his dad loved us, and it was cruel of him to try to take that away.

It wasn't until after I had stopped talking that I realized that his reaction may have been partly from anger after hearing me being too friendly and casual with his doctor. Also, pointing out that I was unable to do things because I am taking care of him.  And then I wondered about how he could trick himself into believing what he said. Was he at work when all of this was happening between me and his dad? Yeah, duh, but didn't I tell him? I know I would have told him that I was hanging out with his dad. I think it boils back down to the very basic tenant of his existence which has always been some version of "If the husband doesn't feel the pain then the pain doesn't exist." He was not present for the relationship between me and his dad and therefe even if it did exist  it was inconsequential. I find the thought of thinking like that terrifying. I wouldn't want to step into that brain for even a few seconds.

NSV

Non Scale Victory: this morning I pulled my t shirt over my head and stopped short thinking THIS IS A LOT OF FABRIC as I saw the mid section of my very large shirt draping and hanging around my less large/inflamed mid section. MY SHIRTS ARE GETTING TOO BIG FOR ME! To be honest, I didn’t think I could ever feel like a shirt was too big on me. The bigger the better, right? Maybe not.

Commence victory dance.

Can do

So far only two people have asked me if I lost weight. The first was high school classmate, Roscoe. We met up to walk the dogs together and she instantly and quite matter-of-factly said YOU LOOK GOOD. YOU LOST WEIGHT. That felt freaking fantastic. I was almost 15 pounds down at that point.

The second time happened a few days later. I was walking in the woods with a friend who is so wrapped up in her own life drama that she might not notice if I showed up with a neck tattoo. We bumped into another dog park friend who said the same thing as Roscoe. I gave her a hug and thanked her for noticing. I glanced at the wrapped up friend and could see her wheels turning. She almost couldn’t figure it out. But that’s on her.

Then, a couple of nights ago I was on a zoom and as usual I was completely distracted by my own image on the screen and I could see the change in my face. All I wanted to do was stare at myself. I am so happy. It’s tough having a fat face. I think things like “My real face is in here somewhere.”

The behavior change that thrills me the most, the change that gives me hope and makes me think that I can do this for real this time is remembering the dialog in my head the day I got back after leaving the husband at the emergency room after he had had those two strokes.In conversation with myself I made the conscious decision NOT to eat my way through this crisis and to stay on course with the anti inflammatory diet. No sugar and no grains. And that is what I have done.

Every once in a while I roll out of bed and realize how much better I physically feel. It’s been almost two
months now I am still feeling better and better.

Anyways, I weighed myself this morning and I have lost 20 pounds. I can do this.

TISMF long annoying day

This is the kind of day I’m having.

Took Mr. Two Strokes to the wound care center today. We were there for TWO hours. I almost froze to death. I feel terrible when doctors ante shocked and appalled by his complete apathy at taking care of himself. It’s not coming from me!!

When Mr. 2 Strokes was in the rehab they gave him a super tall walker with special long leg extensions to use, it’s height appropriate, and they told him they’d send him home with a brand new one. Well, the walker part showed up but the special leg extensions didn’t and they said it would be delivered to us at home. The whole time he is back- a day short of 2 weeks- he is bizarrely insisting - INSISTING- that he saw some paper work and was sure that the extra long leg extensions were being sent to the rehab and not to our home. I called and called and finally YESTERDAY I heard back from both the rehab and the leg extension supplier that there are covid related supply chain problems and they don’t know when they would get them and they recommended that if I could find some I should just lay out the cash and buy one.

Now. Just for background, he’s been using a too short walker since January 2021 (when he fell on the hallway and gave himself a concussion and spent 4 days in the hospital) and I, personally, would have just been way too stubborn (and maybe cheap) to go buy one except he was really over the top perseverating and talking about the freaking leg extensions multiple times a day- every day. I had to go to the medical supply store for something else so I asked to see if they had some and lo and behold they had a single set of them in stock. I paid the money, the nice guy at the store set them onto the walker for me. (Completely unnecessary but a sweet small town gesture) and then I go back to the house, pull into the driveway and what do I see on the front porch?? You guessed it. Another set of freshly delivered leg extensions. ONE DAY after I was told by two people to buy them myself because they had no idea when I would get one from the distributor. ONE DAY.

It’s okay, right? Now I have a spare set. Can’t imagine what could happen to a walker leg extension, but I am prepared just in case.

We get home, have 45 minutes to grab some sustenance and then we hit the road again, this time we are at the retina specialist. The radio is on (because if I’m driving I’m singing) and he says “Jackson Browne again? This is the third JB song they’ve played today.” Now. It’s the same station that we were listening to on the way to the wound center and the medical supply house, (and the craft store for super glue for the shower holder he keeps knocking off the wall and bagels for him because it’s next to the craft store) and he did wait in the car while I went into those stores, but it’s the thing he says now no matter how long we have been in the car. What I replied was “Hm. Maybe he is doing a concert or needs some sort of publicity” which is not at all close to what I really wanted to say. What I wanted to say was “Don’t tell me that this is your new weird thing.”

Also, for some reason, I barely slept last night. Tossed and turned. It’s very usual for me. But I’m really dragging myself around today.