MS improved our marriageWhen we first were married in 1997, Lynn and I had difficulty bonding because we were both very independent. Our marriage struggled because we did not “need” each other. Having each been married previously, we were capable of managing homes and children without partners; therefore, adding one to the mix required significant adjustment on everyone’s part. Continue Reading at: https://multiplesclerosis.net/caregiver/choice-control/
- Today our primary mode of communication seems to be through text messaging or tweets. We use short abbreviated bursts of information delivered remotely.
- Texts and tweets allow us to keep our distance from each other. When we text, we send the message to an unseen recipient who experiences an emotional reaction we don’t have to acknowledge.
- Individuals fear to share how they feel about issues due to concerns about being ridiculed, rejected or embroiled in conflict. In today’s society, we do not know how to cope with these emotions; therefore, the fear of them leads us to avoid them if at all possible.
Fell in love with his singingLynn had the most beautiful tenor voice you would ever want to hear before his MS progressed this far. It was his singing that sealed the deal for me in deciding to take the chance on marrying him and bringing our two families together. I had been burned badly in my first marriage and was very hesitant to remarry. Lynn was just as reluctant as I was as far as setting a date, but he was very romantic. Me on the other hand – I wouldn’t let my guard down in order to give him my heart either. Continue reading at: https://multiplesclerosis.net/caregiver/unexpected-sadness/
I guess most of you who have read my column in the past think I’ve stopped writing. I have to admit that I’ve considered whether I should do that because my time to do anything at all these days is so limited but the publishers of this site are so kind and they have asked me to share my stories whenever I get the opportunity so I’ll keep doing so for as long as I can.
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I admit my life is very busy and very difficult. I also admit I manage it pretty well, but just because I have to do some pretty difficult tasks day after day and I keep doing them, doesn’t make me an angel. I realize that most people who are not full-time caregivers are amazed at what I do and how I manage but that just means I know stuff and I have abilities and that God blessed me with a servant’s heart that allows me to meet these challenges without quitting. It does not make me an angel.
I bet if you’re a caregiver, you’ve been called an angel a time or two, also. It’s a compliment that is intended to reward you for all your hard work, and I admit, it sounds nice, but when someone tells me I’m an angel, I’m embarrassed and I feel guilty because I’m far from being an angel.
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I had a scare this week thinking that I was about to experience the joy of food poisoning. As I was giving Lynn his bath, I started feeling really nauseous. Then my stomach starting burning and feeling crampy and I started sweating—all the tell-tale signs of food poisoning when you’ve recently spent hours sampling leftover food as you clean up from the day’s festivities. As it turned out, it did not develop into the dreaded torture of food poisoning and probably was a reaction to eating too many rich food products the same day on top of eating them several days previously. However, the experience brings into focus that as a caregiver, I can’t just get sick. As I’m preparing to be sick, I have to prepare Lynn for me to be sick. Let me tell you; that just does not seem fair….
Continue reading at https://multiplesclerosis.net/caregiver/i-cant-just-get-sick/
What do you see when you see me?
Do you see what I’ve come to be?
Do you see the mask I wear
That hides the truth of all I bear?
Do you see my strength, my skill
My constant running all uphill?
Do you see my desperate hope
That with each change I still can cope?
continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/caregiver/what-do-you-see-when-you-see-me/
Many of my blogs focus on the feelings of loss, anger, fatigue, and the negative side of caregiving because that is what we caregivers find to be the most difficult to manage. It’s much easier to cope with happiness and being well-rested. But today I want to talk about “acceptance,” the final stage of grief and loss. Acceptance is when you stop fighting the loss and have learned to accept life as it is…today.
Acceptance for me is not being happy that my spouse can no longer work in a public job or that I am glad that I have total control of our finances, how things get done, when they get done, or if they get done. I am not happy that Lynn cannot walk, that he cannot feed himself, or dress himself, or tolerate almost any activity more than a few hours. I am not happy about these things but neither am I angry or depressed about them…at least not today. You see, the thing about grief and loss is that you never really finish going through the stages. Any new change in my own status or Lynn’s can take me right back to where I was initially. It does not last as long because I know better how to cope with that stage but I still have to deal with the emotions. Going backward for a short time does not mean I have failed at dealing with that stage previously either; it just means there is some new situation or concern that I have to deal with today.
Continue reading this article on: http://multiplesclerosis.net/caregiver/caregiver-perspective-joy-comes-in-the-morning/
Introduction: I wrote the following story about a time in my life when I was waiting at Lynn’s bedside to find out if he was getting better or worse. I submitted this story to a writing contest at work and won second place. However, I wanted to share it with you because I think many of you can relate to it.
Standing Beside His Bed
Standing beside his bed, watching the rhythm of his breathing, the irregular up and down motion of his chest, I think of where we have been and where we may be heading. Watching and waiting for that next breath. Listening to the rumbling of secretions he cannot clear on his own, it is strange being on this side of health care. For years I was on the other side; the one checking the vital signs, assessing the patient for changes indicating improvement or decline. For years, I was in control. Now, I’m on the other side…waiting…watching…hoping…alone in his room; his strength when he has none.
I learned about multiple sclerosis in nursing school years ago, but the overview in the textbook in no way prepared me for the reality. Before, his MS became so progressive, the rhythm of our lives was moving along, flowing with the usual ups and downs, sometimes riding high on a wave of happiness but often feeling the plummet as the wave crashed down again and new symptoms emerged. Up and down like the ocean currents; in and out, requiring us to develop a new “normal” to the rhythm of our lives.
What is a normal rhythm anyway? For us, it’s taking each day as it comes, each moment as a blessing of time God has granted us to be together and with our The basic unit in society traditionally consisted of two parents and their children but the family has now been expanded to include any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family. More. As the ebb and flow of the disease takes control of our lives, we adjust to a new normal; a new way of adapting; a new rhythm of life.
Standing here I pray for strength and mercy. I pray for wisdom for his efforts made to maintain or restore physical, mental, or emotional well-being especially by trained and licensed professionals More team. I pray that they will not see him as a diagnosis but as a person with his own needs, his own hopes and dreams. I appreciate them letting me be part of his healthcare team; for them allowing me to be his advocate and for them listening to me … because I know him best. I know the subtle changes; I recognize a difference in rhythm or color or sound that mean improvement or decline.
And I continue to wait and watch.
The doctors, nurses, therapist, and so many more come and go. They warn me the next thirty minutes will decide; does he go on a respirator or is he stabilizing. If he goes on the respirator, he may never come off; his lungs are just too weak. So I wait…and watch…and pray.
Do I notice a change? Is the rhythm of his breathing less erratic, somehow less labored?
The medical team comes in and draws yet another tube of blood. They come back smiling, “It worked. His gases have improved. Let’s see if he continues on this path. Maybe we can avoid the ventilator after all.”
I say a prayer of thanksgiving. My fear that this was the beginning of the end or the beginning of a lifetime on a ventilator is fading away. The rhythm of my heartbeat slows to match the rhythm of his breathing and once again, the normal of our lives change and we move on to the rhythm of a new normal in living with this life sentence of MS.
Lynn and I had to make a very difficult decision this week– whether to cancel our summer vacation or to go as planned. Now, on the surface that might not sound like such a big deal, but it was. Since the children were small, we have been going to the beach in North Carolina for a week during the summer. It’s the only type of vacation we take all year. Now that the children are grown with families of their own, we still invite them as our guests to spend the week with us at the beach. It’s a great way to reconnect and create memories to look back on during the cold winter months. Over the past two years we have also included both my parents and Lynn’s mom (all in or near their 80’s). Both of us love the beach and the The basic unit in society traditionally consisted of two parents and their children but the family has now been expanded to include any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family. More time and we had traditions of fishing trips, play time in the pool, and lots of grilling outside. However, Lynn’s secondary progressive MS has changed all that.
Trips to the beach over the past ten years have been difficult for Lynn. He doesn’t tolerate heat well so we tried a cool vest – didn’t work, and we tried early morning fishing –took too long to get him ready to go so by the time we got there, it was already starting to heat up. We rigged ways for him to hold his rod to fish but though he could hold it for a few minutes, his spasticity prevented him from having a good grip or being able to reel in anything that might nibble at his bait so it really took the joy out of fishing. Plus there was the issue of needing to intermittently cath him every hour or so… The result was—no fishing. For a couple of years we took fishing gear just in case but last year we didn’t even do that.
We tried borrowing a floating wheelchair so Lynn could get into the ocean. That was fun… for about the first five minutes. It took three of us to stabilize the chair in when the surf rolled in so he wouldn’t flip over. He and the rest of us got beat to death by fighting the waves so we tried just sitting him on the beach. (Don’t worry; he had a life jacket on.) He, of course, could not get away from unexpectedly higher waves so he got whipped by that process too; not to mention the fun of trying to lift him from the ground up to a floating wheelchair as the sand shifted out from under us every few seconds. We decided not to do that again.
Last year we found a really nice house that was handicap accessible. I was so excited. It thought, “This is it! The solution to our vacation woes”. It had ramps, an elevator, a roll in shower, handrails on the wall, and most importantly a ramp into a pool. It seemed like the perfect solution except the room designed for the disabled person to use was the smallest room in the house and was filled with furniture. As any of you know who have traveled with someone disabled, lots of equipment and supplies are necessary for ongoing care. Therefore, this room just didn’t meet our needs. We tried re-arranging the furniture so he could get his power chair in and out easier but we were warned not to do that again next year. We also thought about using the larger downstairs bedroom but were told we could not do that either because his wheelchair would damage the carpet. Okay, all the added restrictions and challenges were starting to make the place less desirable; then, I found out we could not have a late check out this year. That was the straw that broke this camel’s back. It takes three hours to get Lynn ready for the day. With a 10 a.m. checkout, that meant a 7:00 a.m. get up time if we did nothing but get him ready to go but when checking out, you have to do the packing, straightening up, throwing away food, etc. which takes at least 2 if not three hours when you have 7 people using the house. And while they all pitched in to take care of their own things, I still had all our packaging and packing to do to get us out the door because everyone else was busy with their own. With a five hour drive home, getting up six hours before 10 was just too much for me to accept.
So we are canceling our vacation.
Continue reading at http://multiplesclerosis.net/blog/caregiver-perspective-letting-go-of-unrealistic-plans/
I have a tendency to feel sorry for myself at times. I also know that I may at times play the martyr. What I didn’t realize is that I sometimes threat others the way I don’t like them to treat me, too.
Feeling Sorry for Myself
When others are able to go out, make plans that they can actually carry out, sit quietly and read or watch a TV show without interruption, I feel jealous. I can hear the smallest violin in the world playing, “Poor Pitiful Me,” while I sit and think about how unfair it is that I can’t do those things. I look on with envy at those who can eat while their food is still warm or who can go to bed before 2:00 a.m. when I’m still up preparing dinner or feeding Lynn. I want those options too and I sometimes resent not being able to be like everyone else.
Then, I look at Lynn who can’t walk, can’t feed himself, and is totally reliant on someone else to do for him. I see how sad and guilty he feels when he watches me give up plans or be unable to have fun like others. I hear him apologize when I’m struggling to stay awake to finish my day or when he has to get me up at night. I see how his life is so much harder than mine and I’m ashamed of how I feel though I know I’m human and my feelings are natural.
Playing the Martyr
Though I don’t consciously play the martyr, I think somewhere in my subconscious I deny myself the opportunities I mentioned above because I want to be recognized as self-sacrificing. Could I go to bed sooner? Maybe, if I let some things “go” or if I did not indulge in distractions like listening to books on tape or reading about my friends on Facebook. When others offer to stay with Lynn, I’m reluctant to say yes because I don’t want to appear as if I’m neglecting him or I say no because I’m concerned since they don’t know his comfort needs, that he might be uncomfortable while I’m away. I also feel that as I become more isolated from participating in activities that it’s more and more difficult to bring myself to socialize. I also admit that I like receiving praise for what I do. I like the compliments and recognition that come with being the self-sacrificing spouse. Yes, I admit it; I have a “sick” personality at times.
Continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/character-flaws/
In as much as we have recently experienced the Thanksgiving season, I was thinking about the impact Multiple Sclerosis has had on our lives and trying to think of reasons why I could be thankful for MS. What comes to mind first, of course, are all the challenges but if I really focus I can think of several rewards I have received related to this condition. Here are a few.
Coping with the challenges of MS has made Lynn and me closer. Before MS, we were two married, independent partners. We each functioned well alone so there were many aspects of our lives that were not shared. Due to his dependence on me for just about everything, we are truly one now. We share thoughts and fears, good times and bad as a team rather than as two people with their own agendas. It has made us recognize our own unique needs and struggles and we have more respect and admiration for each other as we recognize how each of us sacrifices for the good of the other.
For the People I have Met
In many cases, there is an instant bond when I meet another person who has MS or is a caregiver for someone with MS. Instantly, I know the challenges faced and perseverance required every day just to get by if they are dealing with this complex condition. Though that understanding, there is a connection that does not exist with those who have not had to face those same experiences. I now have friends I’ve met through blogging that I expect never to meet in person but who share with me their concerns and offer support for mine. I’ve also met many health professionals who have been awesome and who have offered so much assistance and encouragement to both of us. I am thankful for each of them and the efforts they have made on our behalf.
Continue reading this article at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/thankful/
Being a caregiver is difficult. It’s a lot of hard work; it’s emotionally trying; it’s downright exhausting…but it is also very rewarding. I try each day to come up with at least one thing that I have done or used or seen or thought about that I am thankful for and I highlight that on my Facebook timeline. I admit there are times when it is difficult to find something but when I am struggling to come up with a topic, it also makes me realize just how much I have and how truly blessed I am. Today, I want to share with you why I’m thankful that I’m a caregiver.
- I am able to give back
Lynn has done so much for me since we have been married. He is my #1 cheerleader. When he was able, he kept our house and cars in working order but that was just a task. He was also the best chef that has ever cooked for me (I really miss that because I don’t like to cook). But more than anything, he was there to share with me in good times and bad times; in fun times and stressful. He gave totally and completely to me and now I can give back—not that I didn’t before, but now it is with focus.
- I am able to have some control of this situation
One of the most difficult emotions for me is feeling out of control. I cope better when I feel like I have some control over what is happening. By being his caregiver, I have the ability to control how well he is cared for; I know what he needs, when he needs it, and he likes it done. I can decide how to manage situations in the best interest of us both. I don’t have to call someone else and hope they are actually paying attention and really telling me the truth. I don’t have to worry that he has been ignored or that he is hiding anything from me to spare my feeling—I KNOW what’s going on with him and that knowledge makes my life easier.
- I am able to share in the two minutes or less joyful moments
I have a very dry sense of humor and Lynn has a silly one. Together, we can encounter a situation and between the two of us often one or the other has a slanted view of what’s happening, shares that perspective and we share a good laugh. Our sense of humor allows us to face the challenges without taking them too seriously and helps to take the edge off the sharpness of our lives. I enjoy those breaks from the seriousness of life and if I was not taking care of him, I would miss those.
- I have been able to share my caregiving experiences with others and been blessed by their feedback
continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/thankful-caregiver/
I remember the first time I laughed at his misfortune I felt guilty. Now, however, I try to find the humor in difficult situations and it makes them a lot easier to handle. I can remember a time when he fell in the bathroom after getting out of the shower-butt naked. He landed between the shower stall and the commode. He was in the small bathroom; just big enough to put in a shower, commode and sink and not much else. Here is my 6’husband sprawled out in a rather awkward position at the end of the day when he had no energy left to help himself up. He could have gotten seriously hurt! I immediately ran to check on him when I heard him fall and went to work shifting body parts one way and then another trying to gain leverage somewhere so that I could get underneath him to maybe be able to get part of him on the toilet so maybe I could push something else underneath to gain more height. We worked and we worked and we worked until finally, in exhaustion, I started to laugh. Looking at him with my hands on my hips, I say, “It’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into Ollie.” Then we started talking about “what if” someone saw what we were doing and their reaction. It just got funnier and funnier as we described what they might “see” or think. Finally, the tension was released; we had a new idea come from the absurd suggestions we were making; and I finally got him off the floor and onto the toilet where I could move him to the rollator he was using then.
There was another time we laugh about often where “Murray’s Law” was working overtime. Lynn’s book, Rising Tide, had recently been released and we had been invited to appear on a local public television program to talk about why he took up writing and how we coped with his changing needs associated with having MS. It was a great opportunity and we were both excited. Well, it was raining. This was before we had the conversion van and even before he was using a wheelchair (though he used the seat on his rollator like one). I rolled him out to my Impala, lifted him into the car, in the rain, and off we went more than a little damp for our television appearance. The studio was an hour away. We left a little early because I was unfamiliar with the area where it was located. We drove back and forth and back and forth trying to find it (we had no GPS) making us very nervous that we were going to be late. We finally found it and unloaded, this time in a drizzle. They rushed us back to the studio where we would be interviewed so we could have a brief rehearsal before the taping.
continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/sometimes-ya-just-ta-laugh/
After years of caregiving, I believe I know Lynn’s body and his emotional and physical needs as well or better than my own. Actually, I probably know it better because I don’t pay attention to my own. By becoming that familiar with him, I’ve been able to take quick action to prevent minor problems from becoming major ones most of the time. However, by being so vigilante and adapt at making these assessments, it has resulted in a different problem—Lynn expects me to intuitively know what he needs!
For example, Lynn uses an air cushion seat. The cushion is made up of multiple rows of air bladders that disperse air away from the weighted area (where he sits) to the outward bladders. He then sits on a small layer of air which minimizes the pressure against his buttock. The device is great because the firmness of the cushion can be adjusted as needed for comfort. The bad news is that the material it is made from is like a bicycle tire and wears in time to produce tiny little holes which allow the air to leak out. I then have to find the hole and patch it so he won’t be sitting on a flat cushion. Periodically he will tell me to “check his cushion.” Unless there is truly a leak, it’s difficult for me to know from time to time if there is an actual difference in the inflated areas. He will say, “My butt hurts.” I’ll respond, “Do you think the cushion needs adjusting?” He responds, “Yes.” I ask, “Do you think it needs more or less air?” His response, “I don’t know, just check it.” I then proceed to either add or remove air to make a change of some type. It doesn’t help to ask if “that” fixed the problem because he can never tell. This can be rather frustrating as you can imagine because he wants me to fix a problem I can’t “feel” and to know if it’s “right” through my intuition.
If I look at this behavior as him being lazy and wanting me to take all responsibility for his comfort, then I get really annoyed, but if I remind myself that maybe the reason he can’t tell me if it’s right is because he has “butt de-sensitivity” then I’m a little more tolerant. Maybe the reason he can’t tell me how it feels is because he’s been sitting on those nerve endings so long that he has lost sensitivity in that area. Think about it…if you sit in the same spot for an extended period of time and don’t move, can you even feel your skin touching the seat anymore? After a while it’s as if you and the seat are one and it’s difficult to know what is wrong if it’s gotten uncomfortable. On the other hand, MS affects nerves; nerves transmit signals through the skin; could MS affect transmission of touch… sure, why not?
The other “touch” issue though is itching. He no longer has the strength in his hands to scratch an itch. He can slightly rub an itch but he can’t produce enough pressure to really dig in and scratch. He feels the itch, he calls for me to come scratch it and says something like, “My leg itches; scratch it.” He seems to expect I’ll know which leg, where on the leg, how vigorous to scratch, and when I’ve stopped the itching. Now, in that situation, I think he just has come to expect that I’ll “know” what he needs. I have to remind him that I can’t feel what he feels so he will need to stay “engaged” in the process.
Continue reaching at http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/can-scratch-leg/
When Lynn and I were dating, I knew that his father had only lived to be in his forties and that he died from complications of MS. Having a medical background, I had a vague, general knowledge of the condition but primarily just enough knowledge to know that it affected mobility and the eyes and I had had a few employees make
• An adaptation or adjustment especially of a bodily part (as an organ)
• Adjustment to new circumstances;
• Adaptation; something fulfilling a need
requests related to memory. I knew that genetics was a factor, but not an absolute, in determining if he would also suffer from MS. I also knew that while Lynn had his vises, he was good about what he ate and he exercised regularly; so, in my opinion, he was more likely to have complications from his smoking than he was from having MS. I seriously considered all these factors and went into my marriage with full knowledge of what I might encounter. I actually was very reluctant to get remarried, not due to the MS, but due to the fact that marriage was so difficult and even if you tried your best, you can’t control the other party. When I finally decided to marry Lynn, I went into marriage with a full commitment to staying married for sickness or health, richer or poorer, etc. I had survived one divorce and didn’t want to go through another. In other words, my fear was not of the MS but of the relationship difficulties itself.
And, I was right to be concerned. Those first few years were VERY difficult trying to blend two families; taking two very independent and totally different personalities and trying to learn how to compromise and adapt. We struggled. We had counseling. We became distant and we sought and found ways to become closer. We had to work at it; it did not come naturally to either of us. We were both very afraid of being hurt again and therefore, afraid of totally giving ourselves to the marriage. After all, we both knew how it felt to have loved and lost; but throughout it all, whether or not he might have MS was never a factor.
Then, one day I found him comparing how fast he could wiggle his fingers on one hand as compared to the other. I could see the difference. He had seen a physical therapist about occasionally having “drop foot” after exercising. He had complained of numbness and some weakness in his left leg which was attributed to sciatica. I asked him during those occurrences if he had mentioned his The basic unit in society traditionally consisted of two parents and their children but the family has now been expanded to include any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family. More history of MS and he said that wasn’t what it was and his doctor had his family history. I knew then; however, that he had MS. My daughter, who was in nursing school at the time, and I talked about the fact that we both believed he had MS. Even his son, suspected it but Lynn was in denial. I finally got so frustrated that I confronted him about my concerns and demanded that I be allowed to go with him to his next appointment because he would never give me a straight answer about what was discussed.
As it turned out his next appointment was with a cardiologist (he also has mitral valve prolapse). The doctor asked him how he was doing; then, he asked me. I told him Lynn’s heart was fine but something was wrong with his nervous system. Lynn shot me a look of daggers but the cardiologist promptly set us up with a neurosurgeon because at the time, I thought it was possible it could be a disc issue (since he said MS had been ruled out by his doctor already). The rest is history. Blood work was done; as was a MRI and a lumbar puncture, and as we were driving home from an anniversary visit to the beach, he got the call that said it was MS.
I already knew in my heart what the diagnosis would be and I think Lynn knew but didn’t want toknow. However, actually hearing it still kicked us in the gut. I have to be honest that fear of what was ahead did cross my mind. Lynn and I were distant emotionally at that time because he would not share his thoughts or his life with me. He kept me at a distance. I think he was afraid I would leave if he got MS. His parents had divorced while his father had MS and though I don’t think the divorce was due to MS, it probably played a part in it. However, for us, it had the opposite effect.
I became Lynn’s advocate. I shielded him from too much information (at his request; he still wanted to deny as much as possible); I did all the communication with the doctors and efforts made to maintain or restore physical, mental, or emotional well-being especially by trained and licensed professionals More facilities. He finally recognized that he needed me and he let me in and though that process we are closer now than if he had not had MS. If he had not been diagnosed with MS, who knows if our marriage would have survived? I like to think it would have because we are both Christians who are totally committed to staying together but I’ve learned you can never say never…about anything.
continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/blog/marriage/
• An adaptation or adjustment especially of a bodily part (as an organ)
• Adjustment to new circumstances;
• Adaptation; something fulfilling a need
her husband’s wheelchair. She shared in her message that she had seen that we had a foundation started on the land but that it appeared to have been sitting there a while and wanted to know if we might be interested in selling.
I was so excited! I’ve been hoping to sell that land for years now even though it did not have a “for sale” sign posted. Was God sending me an answer to prayer? Would it really be this easy that I could finally get that land paid off and maybe have enough left over to pay some bills as well? Even if there wasn’t money left over, it would mean being able to pay off the $43,000 loan on that land! We would lose a lot of money, no doubt, because we had a lot of money invested in the land. We had paid to have approval for a pond to be built (which never was); Lynn had spent two years putting in a cinder block full basement and foundation for the planned timber-frame house; we had the timbers already cut for the tongue and grove frame sitting in a storage container on the land. All of that would certainly be lost in any deal because it was needed for our house and probably would not be of interest to anyone else. However, I was willing to let that go because the reality is….I don’t want to move there anymore.
We bought that land in the early 2000s. Our children were still in high school. Lynn had not been diagnosed with MS. He was a carpenter and after we got married, he wanted to build a house that was “ours” and not live in the one that I had built with my first husband. He drafted plans for a timber-frame house that was beautiful. We found the perfect land that would support a full basement (where the children’s rooms would be)with a main floor two stories high with an open ceiling and a loft on each side of the second story with nothing but windows in the back. A full wrap-around porch, a stone fireplace, an attached two car garage on six acres of land with access to a pond in the back. It was going to be gorgeous! Plus, just in case Lynn did get MS one day, the doors would be wide and we were considering installing an elevator for access from the ground to the main floor.
Lynn started to work on it…slowly. He was doing it all himself. First, he waited on the Corp of Engineers to approve the pond installation. Hurricane Katrina caused a two-three year delay waiting on the pond. We finally stopped waiting on that and he started putting in the foundation. He laid the cinder block, alone for the most part, after work and on weekends. Then, five or six years into the project, he was diagnosed with MS. At first it didn’t bother him but gradually, he couldn’t work without a helper (me or one of the boys) and then he couldn’t do more than an hour at a time before he was too exhausted to keep going.
Now it’s been four years since we have even set foot on the land. The house we live in is in bad need of repair and maintenance which he can’t do and I don’t have time or know how to do it. The economy is such that selling our current home and making enough to be able to afford to build the new home is unlikely with all the repairs needed here; plus where would we live till the new house could be built? The timbers previously cut have dried over the years so it’s unlikely they would fit together well without being re-cut and adjusted. It would take a lot of money to build that house now. Plus, my daughter is now married and lives ten minutes away with her husband and most importantly, my grandchild. She and her husband help us out so much and if we moved, they would not be able to do. So, in my mind, I’ve let go of the dream and faced the reality that we need to sell that land and recoup whatever amount of our investment we can so we can do repairs on this house and pay off many of our mounting bills. Therefore, this call was a blessing in my mind and I excitedly danced down the hall to tell my husband.
Whose face immediately crumpled at the news as he fought hard not to cry….
continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/reality-dreams-dont-mix-one-wins/
I’m very fortunate that Lynn rarely directs anger at me. He gets angry at his situation or the equipment he is using when it malfunctions but he’s very careful not to blame me. He’s very considerate of my emotional needs and very grateful for all that I do for him. But he also has all his mental functions intact. Not everyone who cares for someone with MS or other neurological conditions is that fortunate. When MS dementia sets in, the person with MS might not have a clue as to who their caregiver is or why they have to do what is being demanded of them. It’s heartbreaking to be in that situation when as a caregiver you are doing your best to keep them safe and healthy but they are fighting you each step of the way because they think you’re trying to harm them. I can’t image anything much more frustrating. In those situations you might begin to doubt your own sanity or if it’s the right time to say, “no you can’t have cake for breakfast,” or would it really be okay this time.
There are many challenges that come from being a caregiver that you deal with every day in the privacy of your own home. I know I often devise ways to handle a challenge that to others who might observe from the outside looking in might be seen as being weird or even unsafe but unless you walk in my shoes and have my exact same resources, skills, and time constraints; don’t judge what I do because at the time, I’m probably doing my very best.
It’s easy for people on the outside looking in to make judgments on what you should or should not do. They’ve read an article, heard a story, watched Dr. Phil, or taken a class and have become experts on what should or should not be done. I know mothers are often criticized about how they handle a toddler who acts out in a store or disrupts a waiting room or whatever. They get “those stares” that cast judgment and they feel embarrassed and ashamed to be caught not being the perfect mother. The same holds true with caregivers. In public, Lynn does not want to be fed. He prefers to try to feed himself so I always have available for him special utensils for that purpose and finger foods he can pick up and eat without too much difficulty. However, it’s usually not the same food as everyone else and he usually makes a mess. I can sometimes see the pity or embarrassment in the eyes of others which unfortunately makes us both want to avoid eating in public.
Continue reading at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/others-see/
Like being a parent, when I became a full time caregiver, I committed to that role totally. I ALWAYS put Lynn’s needs ahead of mine except when to do so might cause more harm than good. For example, if he needs to be moved and I haven’t had a chance to eat anything in hours and my blood sugar is crashing, then I may leave him where he is, even if he’s a little uncomfortable, till I can go grab a bite of something to keep me from passing out—not a whole meal, just a snack. However, if he’s really needy one day because he is feeling pretty rotten or achy, chances are I’ll put off eating, going to the bathroom, or completing home/work chores until I can get him at least half-way comfortable. I sympathize with his inability to comfort himself and I show that concern and acknowledge that need by tending to him first. He in turn tries not to ask for anything he absolutely does not need – though sometimes in my jealous state, I question if he REALLY needs to have a particular action done…again….and again.
Truthfully, the jealousy comes when I’m tired or sick or both. When I have had four ½ hours of sleep the night before and I’m on hour 14 since getting up with much still left to be done… when all I want to do is lie down and go to sleep, I become very jealous of the fact that I will make him comfortable and he will immediately fall asleep and nap while I head to the kitchen to prepare meals for the next day or to eat my own dinner or to put in a load of clothes or take a shower or whatever and it will be yet another 2-3 hours before I get to lie down.
I become jealous when I am in pain from my arthritis (which is significant at times). Both hands are painful; I have little strength in them any more with swollen knuckles, nodules on the bones, and joints that must not have any lubrication left. I cannot take the usual medications that help reduce the effects of arthritis due to being allergic to shellfish and many of the other ingredients in those remedies so I take four Advil usually twice a day to help control it. However, when my hands hurt from the effects of air moving across them yet I still need to pull of his clothes, give him a shower, and then put clothes back on him; I just wish someone else could do it for me.
I sometimes fantasize that I’ll get injured and can’t do his care for a while and I’ll have an excuse to take care of myself. But in the next thought, I remind myself that there would be pain and it would not be a vacation. I guess what I need is respite care. However, that’s easier said than done. Respite care is not paid by insurance so if I obtained it, the money would have to come from somewhere. If I saved enough for respite, then I couldn’t afford to go away and if I didn’t go away, I would be home and he would need my help so that’s not much of a realistic option.
To finish reading this post, click here: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/sometimes-get-jealous/
Now, flip that coin. When I have to cancel going into work because Lynn’s body refuses to do what we need it to do or we can’t get someone to stay with him so he doesn’t have to be alone (note: he can stay alone for maybe an hour or even two at most but no longer than that because he can’t get food, drink, or empty the urinary drainage bag for himself), Lynn feels so guilty. He knows that I am jeopardizing my reputation for his sake. Knowing that if he could just do those things for himself, I would not be under the pressure I live under every day makes him very depressed at times. I need to be able to share my frustrations with him but I hesitate to do so because I know that guilt will certainly rear its ugly head. It doesn’t matter that he has no control over what happened and that he absolutely can’t do these necessary things for himself so it’s really not his “fault” but to his way of thinking, it’s entirely his fault because if not for him….. He is also afraid that one day, I’ll be so overwhelmed with all the responsibility and so tired of the struggles, that I’ll just walk away; so on the one hand he feels guilty and on the other hand he feels afraid. Yuck.
Read more at: http://multiplesclerosis.net/blog/put-guilt-back-box/
I experienced separation anxiety as a child. I didn’t like to leave home; rarely went to sleep-overs; and seriously considered my college choices based on how close they were to home so I “get” that feeling of longing to be close to someone you love and the slight edge of fear that comes when you are separated from them. I learned more about the “other side” of separation anxiety when my children were little and I had to peel them off my body to leave them at day care so I could make it to work on time (which I rarely did because I had an aversion of losing skin during the peeling process). Now that my children are grown, I’ve learned to adapt to it again with my husband. It’s a little more difficult this time around.
When Lynn and I were first married, we were both self-sufficient, totally independent personalities. Both of us had managed alone as single parents for a while and both were used to doing our own problem solving so we didn’t “need” one another. Sure we yelled the usual, “be careful,” comments as either was leaving the house but our thoughts quickly moved on to the next item on our agenda; there was no lingering anxiety over whether the other would return safely a few hours later. That all changed the day Lynn fell and was not able to get up on his own. He had to lie in the blowing heat from the heat register waiting for me to return home from an hour and a half away after he had tried unsuccessfully to get up without calling me for an hour and a half himself. That three hour time frame shaped his psyche forever. Where before he liked being alone and independent; after that day, he didn’t want me out of his sight or hearing.
After that day, if I needed something from the store, he tried to either convince me that we really didn’t need it or that it would be simpler to just order it by mail. I could see the fear in his eyes if I left the house and the, “be careful,” mantra took on new meaning for him. He was afraid that if I left, I might never come back and if that happened, what would happen to him? He was and is convinced that if I die or become unable to care for him that he will die, too. He knows that as much as our children or our siblings and parents might want to help us out, if I’m not around or able to provide his care, he will most likely have to go into an extended care facility and we do not have the resources for it to be a really nice one. Therefore, he knows many of his personal needs and quirks (which are many) would go unsatisfied. He knows that he would probably not get his special diet or his dietary supplements that are making such a difference in his well being. He knows that he would not likely get the physical therapy adapted specifically to his needs. He would more likely get a urinary track or kidney infection because the care facility would likely put in an
• Left within a bodily organ or passage often to promote drainage
• Used of an implanted tube (such as a catheter) temporarily or long-term
More urinary catheter. He would not be able to use his peddler that keeps his legs and feet from hurting all the time. He would not have access to his own personal computer to continue to write and feel productive. He would become part of a group, exposed more often to viral and/or bacterial infections and probable skin breakdown. He would likely not get showers but would instead get bed baths and his very existence would likely be compromised. At the very minimum, his quality of life would decline significantly. Therefore, he panics when he thinks of losing me. Don’t get me wrong; he also loves me and would grieve my loss emotionally, but it’s all this other stuff that creates the panic. He could survive the emotional loss but would not as likely be able to survive the physical changes.
Now, when I leave, we go through the twenty-questions of: Where are you going? How long will you be gone? Why is it necessary? Can’t someone else go instead? When will you be back? Have you checked the oil in the car? Is the car running okay? When will you be back? Where is my phone? Is it charged? Can I reach it? When will you be back? …and on and on and on.
When the separation anxiety for became an issue, after I would peel him off my body emotionally and leave, the first thirty minutes would usually okay, but then I would get a text message…Did you make it okay? When are you leaving? Can you hurry up? Just checking to make sure you’re okay…..
To continue reading this post, click here: http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/separation-anxiety/
I usually write my blogs on Saturdays because it’s the only time I don’t immediately have another obligation once I’m freed up from routine caregiving. Today is beautiful outside-the sun is shining, the air is warm, no clouds on the horizon. I see a few bees buzzing around and there are daffodils peeking out of the stems that survived the late season snows we had this year. As I look around, I yearn to go outside and create hanging baskets of bright colored flowers and set out other flowers bordering my house but as I think of indulging myself in those activities, I look at the clock on my computer…it’s already 1:11 p.m. Lynn will be up from his nap soon and need to eat. I have clothes washing that will soon need to go into the dryer. I have “x” number of reports to write for work, this blog to get out today, and I need to put away several boxes of supplies that arrived this week before my grandson visits in the morning. I also wonder if I’ll have time to get to the library before it closes at 2 and I have a DVD to drop off (that is already on day five of late rentals). Oh well, maybe another day I’ll be able to get outside.
Unfortunately, that’s how must days go for me. I find it almost impossible to participate in the When something is considered non-essential it means that it's a substance that the body can make on its own in sufficient quantities to satisfy dietary needs. The demand to bring in additional resources to keep the body functioning safely is not a risk. The substance is still needed by the body; however, if the person doesn't obtain the substance through their diet for a while there is not significant harm because there is enough stored up to keep them healthy. More but normal routines of life. If it were not for the kindness of one of our friends, our yard would likely only get mowed once a summer when it absolutely had to be mowed in order for us to find the driveway. I don’t actually plant flowers anymore because live plants require watering, feeding, and other care. I don’t have time for that so I sit out artificial ones. Artificial plants may be tacky by some people’s standards, but for me, it makes the place look cheery so I don’t really care if it’s tacky.
Another normal I don’t have time for is cleaning the house. I wipe down space based on where I am when I have a fairly clean damp cloth. I don’t vacuum or dust and spring cleaning…forget about it! Fortunately, I have found someone who will clean my home for a price I can currently afford and she comes every other week. However, what she doesn’t touch; doesn’t get cleaned. I just don’t have time to deal with what is not
• Of, relating to, or constituting the essence
• inherent, of the utmost importance
• basic, indispensable, necessary,
• being a substance not made by the body in an amount great enough for normal health and growth and requires us to eat it instead.
More so I clean to prevent food poisoning; not to make my home look good.
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