My husband has been sick...really sick. He is hopefully going in for surgery later this month, but in the meantime, I have become his caretaker. This is not an easy job, not at all.
I think the first thing everyone should know is that when you are taking care of someone you love who hurts, you hurt as well. I may not hurt physically like he does, but my heart hurts. I feel his pain in a different way than he does. He has a physical pain; I have an emotional pain. There were times that I honestly got onto my knees and prayed that Heavenly Father just give me his pain. If only for a day or two. Just let me take on the physical burden for him. Not that I could handle it any better than he could, but just because he needed to have a pain free day and he needed some reprieve. In 8 days, he will have had this chronic pain for 4 months. I wish, with all my heart, I could have given him relief for some of those days.
Another thing that I have learned is it doesn't really matter how bad the pain is. The pain just is. In the hospital, the nurse would ask what his pain level, between 0 to 10, was before they would give him any pain medications. Would they alter the dose pending the level? No. Can I alter his pain medication dosage if he has a 10/10 pain compared to a 7/10 pain? No. He gets the same dosage pretty much regardless of the amount of pain. The medication may vary depending on the amount of pain, but not the dosage. The frequency of the medication doesn't even change. Does it matter if his pain is a 10/10 or a 2/10? No...it just matters that he has pain.
An important lesson is that I MUST care for myself first. I think about the flight attendants little speech at the beginning of each flight and when talking about oxygen, they say if you are with a child or someone who needs your help with the mask to put your mask on first and THEN put their mask on. I have to be able to care for him and the only way I can do so, is to care for myself. When I skip meals or don't get the sleep I need or rush to the grocery store and back so he is not left alone for very long, I am not doing anyone any good. I am doing myself harm and with that, I am hurting Trent. If I am too exhausted to read the medication label or to see how much insulin is getting ready to be injected or I forget to flush the PICC line or forget to change the battery in his pump, I am putting someone I love in terrible risk. I am not going to lie, this is a hard rule. I want to take care of him first, his needs and then mine, however, through these past 4 months, I learned it has to be the other way around.
The last thing I have learned is that we have some very exceptional family and friends. Though very few people know exactly what is going on and the severity of it, I know that we are in peoples thoughts and prayers. I feel it. Daily. I am not surprised that Trent is getting this response, I am, however, surprised to be included. I mean, from my mom...okay, kinda expected. When she calls, she always asks how I am first, then inquires about Trent. She always tell me to take care of myself, I guess assuming that I might forget and just take care of Trent. Which, I have! I have a couple of friends who call and ask about Trent and then let me vent! And vent, I do. Lots of tears. Lots of yelling. Lots of questions. Little answers. Lots of prayers. Those that have thought about Trent and me in the past few months, thank you. Thank you so much.
Oh, one final thing -- I am more like my mother than I care to admit! She's been telling me for years that I am her mini me. Though I am hardly her mini me, I have that mean Camacho and that oh so stubborn Mikolajczak blood running through my veins. On one occasion, we were at the ER and it was busy, I mean B. U. S. Y. It was decided that they were admitting Trent and moving him to a different hospital due to lack of beds at the nearest one. So, they rolled him into the hall. And left him there. For a long time. His IV saline bag was empty and he was in terrible pain. I walked up to the nurse who had been taking care of him for like the last 8 hours and asked for more fluids and more medication. She informed me that she was no longer taking care of Trent...he had been released. Is that right? Released huh? Well, that is funny because I still see him in the HALL with an empty IV bag writhing in pain. I demanded to speak to someone. I might have elevated my voice and I may have stomped my foot -- that is still up for debate. The nursing supervisor was quickly at my side asking what the problem was. I, and I admit, it may have been loud, explained the problem. Explained that if he was going to lie around without fluids and without medication, I could just take him home and let him suffer in peace and without the whole emergency room staring at him whilst in the HALL!! This rant may or may not have been terribly cohesive. But, I am positive that whatever my problem was, it was conveyed.
She assured me that someone would be getting Trent more fluids and medication promptly. I said she had 2 minutes, again, I may or may not have shoved my two fingers into her face and said she was on the clock. I may or may not have said tick tock, baby, tick (naughty word) tock, baby. And, I may or may not have followed her around to make sure the right medication was being called in and the proper dosage was being asked for. At this point, while was standing in the hall, next to my husband's gurney, with my arms cross and my foot tapping, my daughter very calmly explained that was at a 10 and I needed to bring it down. I may or may not have flashed her a look to shut the hell up.
It's actually kinda of funny now. Every time Trent is back in the hospital, he gets pretty good service. I joke (but really, I don't think it is a joke, I am sure this can be proven) that beside Trent's name in his medical records there is an asterisk and behind that asterisk is says something about his wife. I am guessing that perhaps the initials FB are used... this is in code, of course. But we all know what FB means!! And, I will not deny it. I will turn into the biggest bitch you have ever seen and I will yell and I will threaten and I will not give up until Trent is given what he needs. If I go to the hospital and it has been over 2 hours since his last pain medication, you better watch your back, dear nurse, because I am coming for you and you are going to take care of my husband. Get it?
I would hope, that someone would look out for me as well I have for Trent. If this makes me my mother's daughter, then so be it (though, just for the record: I am no where near as mean as my mother. Really. My daughter said in her 22 years on this earth, she has never seen me that mad and she has never heard me talk to someone in that tone with those words with that attitude. I may or may not have told her she better watch her back!!! LOL. But really, ask my mom, she will tell you, thank heaven, that I am more like my daddy than her. My brother on the other hand...well, lets just say the nut doesn't fall far from the tree. Me? Not so much!!!)
Trent, if everything continues on a good path, will be having surgery in just a few weeks. Though I am positive that this will go smoothly and without a glitch, those prayers and good thoughts are definitely appreciated. Hopefully, I will be posting another post in a month or so bitching because Trent is back to work and he is there all of the time and he is never home! Hopefully, I will be complaining about my grocery bill being back up. And, most assuredly, I will remain thankful that Heavenly Father has blessed me with a man like Trent and a family like we have and friends who are so dear. I am one very lucky woman.
XOXO
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