Hello lovely people,
here is an upside-down take on caring for someone. Last Thursday (12th November) Victoria, my lovely wife tried to get up out of bed and found that the world spun her back on to her back on our bed. I can testify that it was 8.00 am and no gin, wine or narcotics were involved in her world spinning out of control.
So, there was me looking into her eyes, well, trying to keep up with their uncoordinated gyrations. After this futile exercise sent me into a low orbit (pun) I decided to make a cup of tea.
What happened next changed the whole feel of the day. All electricity exited our home at the speed of light (scientifically true). It was then, slower than the speed of light that we remembered that it was a scheduled outage for S.E.C to do some work on the power grid. Ah, now things became interesting! Our required cup of tea hadn’t been made. Our ordered world as we know it was falling apart! Thank goodness we remembered that we had a gas hob and a normal kettle to use. Being dead posh like wot we are in Odiham, it even had a whistle to tell you that is was ready for action; it whistled. I leapt out of bed as gracefully as a mud-slide into my wheelchair and donned my dressing gown to make the cup of tea. How clever to have a normal kettle, NOT!
I got the cups etc ready for action and then remembered how hot the bottom of the kettle would be in contrast to the plastic base on our electric one. Around a two weeks ago I fell over hurting the ‘arm socket’ of my right arm which is my dominant arm. Nope, it refused to lift the very hot kettle so I had to use my less competent and less coordinated left arm. Whilst pouring the boiling water my left arm, with perfect timing, decided to enjoy a spasm. Spasms range in intensity and therefore pain generation from a small one to an ‘oh my giddy aunt’ mega spasm. This particular spasm was a small one. Unfortunately, the spasm redirected the boiling water from its intended target, the cup, to the unintended target, my leg. I let out a silent cry so I didn’t have to explain what had happened to Victoria (see photo one). Anyway, I got away with that mishap and proudly presented her with the cup of tea (strong, no sugar and just a threat of milk) wearing my dressing gown and a fixed smile. It was a slow procedure to get her into a safe position to be able to enjoy her cuppa. The electric articulated bed was on strike along with the light bulbs and everything else powered by electricity. Cushions and leverage were the order of the day. Ahhhh Tea!!!!!!!!!!!
The power came back on at around 11.30am, just in time for me to think about getting us some lunch. After a very short one-sided discussion about my lack of culinary skills, we (she) decided that Victoria would enjoy a cheesy potato. That is is a baked potato with the filling scooped out and mixed with cheese, put back into the skin and then grilled. There was one that she prepared earlier in the freezer! RESULT! Long story short, in to the microwave, out of the microwave, extra grated cheese, in the grill, brown the top, out of the grill, plate up, eat. This shortened exercise is missing in the grill, burn left index and middle finger, out of the grill, burn right outer thumb, cry. Ugh, at least my hands matched my leg.
After two days of caring for her, I was starting to look like a one-man war zone! The next day Victoria was out of bed, walking a bit wobbly (for her) and semi-functioning. I was feeling happy that I had at lease cared as much as I could for her, and that nothing had been blown up, blown off or burned beyond repair even though my pride has refused to tell her how much it hurt. That same pride couldn’t help showing her the war scars I had accrued during the previous 2 days.
The moral here is – realize that you can’t do as much (safely) as your carer, partner, wife, hubby etc and appreciate how much care your caregiver gives you and thank them often.
Thank you Victoria for being my help, my love, caring for and about me. I love you xxxxxxxxx
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