separation anxiety

The Challenges of Separation Anxiety

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 indwelling 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…..

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What a roller coaster!

Just when you think things are getting better, they start rolling down hill again…
Lynn’s dietician put him on a special MS diet with the purpose of improving absorption of nutrients and more importantly, iron, since he struggles with iron deficiency.  He has to eat three cups of green leafy vegetables per day, three cups of vegetables high in sulfur (broccoli, brussel sprouts, asparagus, etc), three cups of bright-colored vegetables or fruit and the meats each meal must be grass-fed meats or seafood.  Seems like I’m feeding him all the time!  And talk about hard to find…grass-fed meats are not at most grocery stores so the saint who makes Lynn’s meals for him had to really shop around to find them.
Anyway, it doesn’t seem to be working.  Instead of feeling better, he’s much worse over the past week.  I’m sure his hemoglobin, iron, and ferritin levels must be dropping.  He has absolutely no energy, he’s cold all the time again, and just miserable.  I look into his eyes and he just looks sick and weak.  So, I’ve put in a call to get an appointment with a hematologist to find out if something is wrong with his blood. Meanwhile the dietician is working on getting tests to see if the issue is the permeability of his intestines causing him not to absorb what iron he’s taking in.  Unfortunately most of those tests are not covered by insurance so we’re waiting to see how much that will be.  Of course, we will have to do the testing because we have to find out what’s wrong. He’s miserable and when he’s miserable, so am I….Not because I’m such a sympathetic person…no I’m no saint…I’m miserable because he needs constant attention and my patience over doing the same thing over and over is limited.   Like now.  I have to go cath him and I just did that less than an hour ago, and the hour before that…!  Ugh…
I was hoping now that I need to try to go into work one day a week that he would be well enough to make this process easy but when he feels bad and needs so much attention, it’s more difficult.  It went well this week but I was only gone from 7:30 until 11:30.  His mom stayed with him.  Next week my friend will stay with him and I’ll probably be gone a little longer.  He’s been a bit depressed about me going back.  He feels that I’ll be so glad to be away that I’ll want to go in more and more and to be honest, I expect he’s right.  It was actually very nice to be among the working again and to not constantly be interrupted to do something totally non-related to what I was trying to accomplish. 
As tired as I expect I’ll be on those days, I’m looking forward to it although I admit I feel guilty about that.  I know how much he wants me to be here and I know I can probably give him better care than anyone else but I really need a break and some time to myself.  He reminds me of my children and how they would cling when I left them at daycare when they were young. I always felt guilty to walk away when they were clinging or crying–that is until I got to my car.  When I drove away, it was a relief not to have the pressure of the crying and clinging and I admit, that’s how I feel now–relieved to be away.
I hope this works out–my going back to work–but I see trouble on the horizon.  If he’s got a blood disorder then it may be a long-term problem that makes him more difficult to leave.  If it’s malabsorption; hopefully medication will fix that.  I don’t know what it is but it’s something and I sure hope they figure it out soon.  It’s time to move on to some healthy days….

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