(no subject)

[zyzyly]

I'm waiting for Arlina's pain-control pump to beep, so I can change the bag and go to bed. At the current drip rate, the bags are lasting about 55 hours, so they can run out at pretty much any time of the day or night. It's a ten-step process to change out the bag and reprogram the pump, but it really only takes a couple of minutes. I have gotten pretty good at doing it half-asleep. All those years of working nights pays off at last.

I end up getting up 3-4 times a night anyway, to give meds, make food or tea, help her to the commode, or just to comfort her. I have no problem getting back to sleep, and I don't have anywhere to be in the morning anymore, so it's not a big deal. I'm tired all the time, but I don't think it's from lack of sleep.

I don't miss work, which is kind of a surprise. I had brought some project stuff home with me when I first took off, but it's still sitting in my briefcase, untouched. And there it will stay for the time being.

I don't do much other than care for her and keep the house from falling apart. It takes a lot of time, really. She can do less and less for herself each day. Yesterday she could walk to the bathroom, but today she couldn't. I just kind of move from task to task throughout the day, and meet her needs as they come up. her family brings food, so I don't ahve to cook much for her, except breakfast. I don't do much in the way of cleaning, except dishes and stuff, but I do make the bed. Somehow a made-up bed makes everything seem less cluttered. It also serves as a temporary flat surface for dumping stuff.

She got mad at me this morning because she didn't like the way I made oatmeal for her. It's hard sometimes, because her needs can change from day to day. Doing something right one day is no guarantee that doing it the same way the next day is going to be successful. We cry over this stuff--it's the inevitable frustration that comes with where we're at. I know in my heart that I am a good caregiver.

I get lonely sometimes. She sleeps a lot, and even when she's awake, she doesn't always feel like talking. There are a lot of phone calls, mostly from her family who want to see how she's doing. A scattering of friends call periodically, but that has dropped off quite a bit over the past few months. I cried about this a bit the other day--"where did everyone go?"--but really, we have a lot of people supporting us. It's just that there are moments where I feel all alone.

Sometimes in the afternoon, if she is settled and comfortable, I'll sneak out to the local coffee house and get a double espresso. I'll sit for a while and write in my journal. I savor these moments. My paper journal is a lot like this one, skipping from one thing to another, but probably more immediate and less reflective. It's the raw material for what I put here, although I haven't had the chance to write in a couple of days, so none of this is in there.

It's beeping now. Bye.

Comments

[zhenzhi.livejournal.com]

*gentle encouraging hug* you are doing so well, you really are. :-) xoxo

[myasma.livejournal.com]

thank you, my friend.