Who cares

This post isn’t so much an update on my progress but a chance to acknowledge that for many of us hippies going through the build up to surgery, which can be pretty darned stressful in itself, and then recovering from surgery afterwards, we’re lucky enough to have support around us.  Whether that’s a spouse, adult child, sibling or other family member, or close friends/neighbours, it’s great to have somebody there.  And while a lot of us like to think we could manage pretty much OK on our own, I think that just knowing there IS somebody there is a lovely psychological safety net to have there, even if you don’t think you use it much.

I have to admit that on the day I found out I needed surgery I wasn’t exactly in the best mood with my hubby, and I said as much in one of my early posts to this blog.  He was there telling me all the common sense stuff which quite frankly I didn’t give a toss about right then.  I just felt at a real low and wanted to be upset and vent, cry whatever.  Having common sense pointed out to me was irrelevant – I just wanted a hug and to be allowed to feel scared, upset, angry and hating the world.  He should’ve known from that moment that he wasn’t just there to be a physical helping hand but also something of an emotional punchbag, and I suspect that’s true for many of the poor souls looking after us!

I admit that when I first started thinking about the implications of surgery, having Kev looking after me was up there as quite a big thing.  Kev gave up his crappy day job a year ago to work full time on his mobile disco business (blatant plug for anybody in the area needing a disco, check out KL Music, http://www.klmusic.co.uk )  This meant that on the plus side he would be around pretty much 24/7; on the downside it meant we’d be together pretty much 24/7.  I did say to several people that I thought we didn’t need to worry about my recovery time as we’d kill each other long before then!  Kev and I were both separated/divorced when we met.  I’d had 4 years on my own since splitting up with my ex husband.  Even after we met it was another 5 years before he moved in.  It took a bit of getting used to when he did move in but I quite liked him and shortly after that he’d got me one of those ring things for my left hand so I figured he might as well stay!  But we both worked full time and over the past couple of years I’ve also been doing a lot of travelling with work so it’s fair to say we haven’t exactly lived in each other’s pockets.  And I admit I like my own space.  So the thought of being together 24/7 with me not being in a position to just get up and go do my own thing (let alone head off to Gothenburg for a few days) got me seriously a bit worried!

It wasn’t actually as bad as I worried about.  We’ve got more than 5 weeks in and no knives have been drawn in anger, no crutches used as offensive weapons.  But there are just things that I know are also felt by other hippies being looked after by their spouses.  It’s those things that make you have to grit your teeth a bit and reminded me of when I first became a mum and watched my now ex husband doing baby stuff.  They don’t do it right.  Or rather they don’t do it exactly as we would.  I know this makes me sound like a total control freak but probably like many people there’s things I tend to do, there’s things he tends to do.  And when he’s doing something I do but doesn’t do it just as I do it then he’s doing it wrong. Simple as!  I knew I had to be patient over recovering; I hadn’t planned on having to be as patient over things he does wrong, I mean differently.

 

Then there’s the time.  I had to make allowance for the fact that Kev was actually at home with work to do.  He’s also fitting in a ton of stuff we’re doing round the house.  That house stuff all started last year and he’s had things nicely planned with a routine of when he fits housey stuff in around the disco work.  What wasn’t on the plans was having to take time out for hospital trips, hydrotherapy sessions, visits to the shop to get me stuff and taking longer as I insist on going too.  Must remember he has a life and work in all this. And there’s me thinking it’s all about me :)

In terms of what I’ve had to rely on him for I was really bothered about having to let him do loads.  I just haven’t felt that ready to give up my independence, it knocked my confidence and self esteem to think I couldn’t do stuff.  In the beginning there was a long list of things I thought he would have to do for me.  I envisaged him having to help me physically get into and out of bed , help dress me, shower/wash hair, fetch and carry, feed me (I don’t mean literally with a spoon making aeroplanes so I opened nicely and swallowed…and on typing that my mind has gone into a totally different direction, gutter-ward as usual…stop right there!!).  But as it happened I was able to do much more for myself than I expected.

• Bed: Having had to do this in hospital on their single beds this was a doddle most of the time at home.  I think maybe one or two times when it hurt a lot he helped lift my leg on, and also when I was raising my legs on a pile of pillows he had to do the lifting bit there.  But otherwise I’ve managed that myself
• Dressing: I have a grabber which I thought would help me pick up things but they show you how to dress with it.  So he’s off the hook there
• Socks: I have this ludicrous thing called ‘Soxon’ which looks like a bike seat but is bloody brilliant.  5 weeks on I still love being able to get my socks on with it
• Shoes: I bought some slip on trainers or wear slippers, and as I have a long handled shoe horn and know how to use it I’m Ok there.  Just a couple of times when the weathers been shitty and I’ve wanted to go out in proper trainers he’s had to do laces up
• Showering:  I have a bath board and after a trial run we realised that as long as Kev has taken the shower head off its hook I can get myself on the board, use the grabber to pick up shower and close shower screen, and then wash hair and me all by myself
• Carrying:  I use a small bag and put all my essentials in it so I can hoist that with me when I go downstairs in the morning and to bed at night.  During the day I just get up, engaging crutches as need be in earlier days, and get things myself.  Until I was comfy carrying on one crutch he had to help with heavier things
• Feeding: Right from the start I could stand to make stuff in the kitchen so Kev just made sure things were to hand.  This might mean getting pans out of the lower cupboards or making sure things were in the top part of freezer.  Luckily the Ben & Jerry’s was already positioned top shelf so no danger of failing to reach that :) But once cooked I did need help at first carrying plates of dinner through until I was more steady on one crutch and the plate wasn’t too full/heavy
• Laundry: We got into quite a good routine.  I used my grabber to drag stuff out the dirty washing basket and sort.  Kev would lug downstairs and put in the machine.  I actually could also do this for myself with the aid of trusty grabber.  I also figured out how to get them out the machine and haul into the tumble dryer with no bending.  Lately I’ve even made him redundant on taking the full basket of clean washing back upstairs when I could hook it with my grabber and drag upstairs behind me.  The only bit I needed him for totally was taking full basket downstairs.  I did try the grab and drag approach but the basket slipped and nearly sent me flying downstairs on one occasion.  I gave in gracefully at that point
• Dishes: I could stand and wash dishes quite early and did a lot of that to make myself feel useful.  Ironically I could do that quite easily but couldn’t load the dishwasher.  Which meant watching Kev load it ‘differently’!

It was important for me to be able to do as much as I could.  I felt I’d achieved something if I hadn’t had to ask him to do everything for me.  Sometimes if I’d just sat down it was easier to ask him to get something I’d forgotten as it might take a while for me to get up, get on crutches and hobble over, but most things I could do and that made me feel a lot better.  The whole post-op recovery process is a big emotional thing, not just physical.  Being in this sort of situation was a change in our relationship, and I was desperate that he still saw me as the wife he knew and mostly loved, and not just as his patient.  Much as I could throttle him at times, I still wanted him as my husband, not as my carer.

As my recovery has gone on things have settled much better.  Although I can’t drive yet I can get out so am taking myself for 2 walks a day as much as possible.  This lets me have that time to myself, gives him some space when he knows I won’t be pestering him…and it gets my step count up :)  I do appreciate all he has done and still has to do.  Not least of all feeding the cat which he hates doing.  And I also like the fact he appreciates when I am trying to do things for myself.  Sometimes I’m sure he’s wanted to step in but he’s let me get on as he knows it matters to me.  I know many people go through this on their own.  Looking at what I have done I’m sure I could have managed if I had to but I’m bloody glad I didn’t.