While rumbling through some papers, I found this journal entry I made 22 years ago,
“Yesterday, while hiking, I was overwhelmed with an incredible sadness. When I thought it through, I realized it was a sadness from very deep inside, finally rearing its ugly little head. Sadness that I didn’t know was there. Sadness that for so long I felt unproteceted with no warm hand to help me guide my way. You took my hand when I left your house last night and that was no longer so.
With the chemo and radiation, his outlook looked better. Then, in February, 2022, the pain in his back became unbearable. His “tougher than the rest” attitude started to fail him and we ended up getting him on Oxycodone. It helped, but he had an addictive personality and it wasn’t long before he was sneaking pills. I did my best to moderate his intake, but if someone has an addiction, they can find a way. My phone became my constant companion. Talking to Drs and PAs trying to adjust his meds. By May he was feeling better.
His passion was his dogs and upland bird hunting. Our honeymoon was spent crossing the country with our hunting dogs.
Now, we went to our local hunting club as often as possible. Sometimes I would hold on to his jacket as he staggered through the brush. It is terrifying to see someone you love trying so hard to maintain normality.
He often had to sit and rest. His dogs tried to understand. It was scarey having him out there with a loaded gun, often the recoil would knock him off his feet. He took it with a sense of humor. It terrified his wife. One had to admire his determination not to let cancer ruin his way of life.
By mid-June it was the end of hunting. The drugs were making him impossible to deal with and we were making trips to the Emergency room. His personality was changing. This lovable, mild mannered man often lost his temper. At one point he threw a walker at a nurse, at another, it was a chair. The hospital staff did not know him so they were not cognizant of the personality change. His children and I kept telling him this was not who he was. He was angry, short tempered, yelled at the beleaguered staff. He kept getting out of bed and trying to escape. They put a bed monitor on him. Then the hallucinations started. He was convinced he was in jail and that they were doing everything they could to contain him. Finally, we all convinced the staff of his personality issues and after much adjusting of meds, it pays to stay on top of all this, he began to come around.
Hospital staff is often unaware of the personality lying in the bed. How would they know? They receive a patient and access the ailments. Without family explaining personalities and needs, how would they know? It was up to us to make sure they understood. When we finally checked him out, after two miserable weeks, they confessed, they finally saw the man we all cared so much about.
Phone by my side, it was now up to me to make sure he stayed off the Oxy. A challenge. While in the hospital, he evidently ate one of his hearing aid batteries. We all thought it was because he thought it was a stray Oxycodone on his tray. Same size. He said he thought it was candy. So, to add insult to injury, he now had to go for weekly ex-rays to make sure his toxic battery didn’t get stuck inside.
Toward the end of June my days of going to work were over. He required constant care. We thought he would get better when he was home and could be with his dogs. He couldn’t remember his daughter’s name, or when people came to visit. I told friends not to come as it was so depressing to see him disintegrating before our eyes.
So began my journey into being a nurse. I have never been a nurse, just ask my kids. Handing out meds has never been my strong suit. Now I was home alone with a 290 pound dying man who didn’t want my help. We do what we need to do for those we love, and so my journey into the unknown began.
Take a look at this wonderful blog post by one of my favorite fellow bloggers.
Death
Next, It’s all about me. How to stay emotionally strong and prepare for the future.
Self Employed Again 