My friend left this past Wednesday. I did alright, I didn’t fall apart. Even the next day I did good. I did so well I didn’t even need to take the stress reliever medicine. But the next day was Valentine’s Day.
Maybe without wanting to admit it, I felt a little left out of the over-rated love day. All I heard on TV for days was what men were going to buy their sweethearts. Flowers of your choice for any woman’s taste.
All I know for sure is I started sinking inside. With all the snow still lingering and the news of more snow storms coming tomorrow I started becoming sad again.
Yesterday I spent almost all day in bed. I napped off and on, but the sad part I was recognizing was I just wanted to be buried under my covers and as far away from Al’s illness as I could get. I would get up off and on and go check on Al.
He hasn’t been very responsive as of late. The illness continues to leak out of any orifice it can find. His eating is down to about a half of a jar of baby food at a time. His eyes will follow me, especially if I have the blue bowl in my hand. He knows there is ice-cream, well sherbet in that bowl.
We had to take him off of ice-cream and switch him to sherbet as he choked too bad on the ice-cream. The more I looked at him, the more I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to do anything special to make me look better.
I remembered when my friend was here she actually had me rolling my hair and putting make-up back on. I did that too the day after she left, but before I knew it; the desire left.
My girlfriend had been calling each evening and she called my yesterday morning announcing she was returning. She came late afternoon and I was already a tense mess. I was ashamed that I was still in my house robe but yet I didn’t seem to have the energy to actually get dressed or even care.
I had to break down last evening and take one of my special pills again. I was fighting it so hard. I just didn’t want to take it. To me, it is a sign of weakness. Too screwed up to fight these feelings I was forced to lean on the little pills.
I don’t know why I allow or let myself fall into this trap of being so sad and depressed. It isn’t even me that is sick, it is Al. I look at him laying in that bed of his and I think, Wow, look what a trooper he is. Staying in that bed for months and yet he never complains. But here I am; able to walk and move around and I am feeling so low.
I then kick myself in the rear for being such a big baby. How and when did I let his illness become mine? I am my own worst enemy. I take on others feelings as if they were mine. The worst part is no matter what I tell myself I don’t stop. I let myself get too emotionally involved. Maybe it is because he is just not a patient, he is my brother. Yet, I still need that little pill to keep going.
My friend said she will see how Al is, and if there is no change, she will leave Tuesday. It is alright. I can’t tell her what day he will pass. I can only tell her that Al has hours to days as the nurse says and just wait. I realize my friend has a husband and a dog and her life to live. I don’t want her here waiting for something that may not happen when she is here.
Yet, if he passes when she leaves I, well I don’t know what I will do. I imagine knowing me like I do, I will stand tall and carry forth what needs to be done. I won’t break down or have a heart attack, I will do what I have to do.
My mother and friend have always said I am a survivor. Maybe I am, but I feel anymore that if something doesn’t break soon I am going to temporarily go nuts. I have made it for seven years taking care of family, so why now am I not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know most answers anymore, I tend to just go with the flow or hide under my covers.