How does a yo-yo go? Up and down, up and down, nice and steady, slow then quick.
This is how I feel. Slow and sleepy. Sometimes full of energy. Days of quick thinking, others too tired for one thought.
I wonder if this is how other caregivers feel? I wish in some ways they did, then I wouldn’t feel so stupid. And other ways I hope they don’t because this is no fun.
It seems anymore Al’s body is totally frozen. Me or the caregiver do everything we can to keep him comfortable. He has some good days which allow some laughter in the house. But mainly there are bad days, scary moments, when we hold our breath, wondering if this will be Al’s last day.
You know? I hate feeling that way. Who in the world keeps track of breathing, pain, and lack of movement, coughing, swallowing? It isn’t even normal. To a stranger it may seem like this gal is a human freak.
Today, Al was in one of his needy moods. He wanted everything and nothing. He was never satisfied. His biggest complaint was he wanted out of bed. I have heard this many times. I know that last winter when I was sick for 30 days, I spent most of it in bed.
I know how much worse I felt not being able to feel free enough to move around. I kept pondering on that as I kept hearing Al pleading to get up. So while the caregiver was here today I decided to do an experiment.
It wasn’t so much for me. I already knew the answers. It was more for Al. I wanted him to see for himself that he could not get up. I guess it was a test that I hoped Al passed mentally.
So the caregiver and I grabbed a hold of him from all sides and we set him on the side of the bed. The first thing I noticed is his legs. I hate to be so graphic but in order for you to understand how they reacted I have to speak it.
His legs reminded me of a fish just out of water. They flopped around with no control at all. Soon they quieted down and just hung there. I then asked him how he felt but he didn’t answer.
He wanted to stand. Before I answered that I asked him to hold his head up so he could see what he was doing, but he failed. He raised his head about half an inch but it wouldn’t budge above that.
I asked him to raise his legs to see if he had any control. One leg went up a couple of inches and the other didn’t rise. With the head being dropped so long I was afraid he would cut off his own breathing, so we placed him back in bed.
He still told me he wanted to try to stand. So I guess my test failed and he repeated his request for getting up. Now this is emotionally draining to me. I couldn’t please him and I couldn’t do as he wanted.
We are now using the fingers for yes and no answers. One finger for yes, two for no. I can no longer hear or understand what he is saying. When I lean in close to him I can hear his voice, but still can’t make out the words.
Now he is laying there with no facial expressions. He ate two bites of supper. His hands are so swollen and puffy. I asked the nurse why this has been happening the past few days and she stated circulation, or lack of.
I hear Al rattling but we can’t use the Aspiration machine as the mucus is too far down in his throat, and yet his lungs don’t sound bad at all. He is not swallowing his own drool, and I think it is mixing with the mucus, making him cough so much.
So this is one of those bad days. I get so tired of reading my print back and seeing what a pathetic creature I have turned into. I have considered not writing anymore until this is over, but I don’t think I would survive as well as I have without your comments.
Let’s just face facts. I am not as strong as a Christian should be. I get too tired and too emotionally drained. I try, I really try to be positive, but it is darn hard, let me tell you. I keep finding myself begging God to release Al from his pain. Thousands of prayers are being said for him daily and yet he lingers.
If only I could make these last days worth living, but alas, I can not. All I can do is hold his hand, rub his arm, reposition him, keep him dry and offer him food. The rest is up to him and God.
I carry guilt over not doing better for him. Sorrow from watching him become lifeless, and anger at why he is being allowed to continue on with no purpose. I am sorry, today is one of those bad days. I hope for a better day tomorrow, but I need to be realistic.
Al has seen our parents and Jesus. He truly is the lucky one. He is my brother who has fought this battle with all his might. His legs may have flopped like a fish out of control, but his soul is beautiful like the fish of the sea.
I heard on the news tonight about an Afghan 10 year-old girl being forced to carry a bomb on her. Here is a short story of what I heard.
Who I am 