For JFP, Life came to a screeching halt,
right in the middle of Sunday Church Service.
Singing in the choir suddenly turned into a surreal nightmare
of going down,unable to tell anyone what was happening.
That was in August.
He had his 3rd stroke.
On the day after Thanksgiving, he had a massive stroke.
.This one paralyzed his entire left side.
What’s life like in the years after the initial emergency? The big things, you get quite a lot back. But life, as he once knew it, can never be the same again. The “new normal” can seem like mission impossible.
There are little things you deal with that no one knows. You wake up during the night working them out. It goes something like this:
JFP’s Morning Meanderings…
- “The house is quiet, its early, yet late [as in life]. Don`t feel like sleeping; mind is rumbling; body frustrated [old is not in this decision of my likes right now].
- Woke up making plans for Monday. It`s the 52nd of wedded —- no label for the day. So far we have a confirmed doctor’s visit, another one on the next day, plus a follow up call later in the week. That is why I am frustrated about Monday
- Right now I plan on ordering a corsage for my wife to wear Monday. I have to go to town this morning to see if it is doable. Then church this afternoon. Yet what do I feel? It is a mix of emotions about feelings and physical feelings. True it is a problem that I am not the man I was. Physical: the heart attack and the strokes have taken their toll on the body.
- On the good side I did get the eyes fixed. That is one good thing if I ever get used to the sight issues of now. OK, I see better, yet am frustrated that there are spots that I did not think about:
I see fine, even better with no blurring. Yet the screen has to be moved in order to see right on the computer.
I see, yet I thought there would be more flexibility to my sight. So it is a necessary thing to be able to see better, which I do. Yet I feel I should have more focus flex to my sight.
- OK I can live with it as I do see better, just not like I thought it would be. And that is the issue. It was explained to me before I did the operation. So it is on me about that, and that is done, I did it. Now to learn to live with it.
- Not that bad. I see better, just the having to take off the glasses to read at some distance or not. I can’t squint to see better. I have to put the object in the right distance to read it, not the other way around. More learning curve, yet good when I do it.
- I see clearly case closed. I need to adjust!
- The rest is feeling more useless: the old body does not work like it should. Loss of endurance is the biggest issue, I think. Stuff I did when younger I can still do, only what took an hour now takes days even weeks, leaving one to want to forget about doing it.
- Also, being the main caregiver is frustrating.
- My wife has a lot of issues, plus does not see that she could change her way of doing things. Therefore, we have problems. She talks softer than the noise around her, expecting me to hear, even if I am not in the same part of the house. Then it is my fault because she told me.
- [If a man is outside with ear protection on and she whispers some thing for him to do, is it his fault he did not hear?] It is like that.
- I spend too much time in the man cave. Yes , I know I do. NO answer. Maybe I am hiding, hiding from what, I don’t know. It does make my life less ??????
- I like that I can watch what I want, listen to my music, read my stories, not get bugged because I just ate a peanut or something. And if I repeat a joke I just saw, it goes over well. Yet, am I letting her down because when we are together too much it becomes a blaming or cut down time: someone never remembers what they say or how hurtful it can be, so I hide in the man cave. DO I?
- Some days I think it is so, others, not. Right now I crave a cup of coffee, yet, if I go in the kitchen I wake the dog. That will wake her, and this day is off to a bad start. Not worth it, right? OK, I can live with that fact of life, with others. Maybe I can go back to bed and sleep some more. I’ll try.
-JFP, July 2016
YOU ARE MINE by David Haas: (JFP’s choice)
wrapping up by Di…
JFP’s honest disclosure is a rare sharing of his vulnerability. I love his subtle ways to “come back up to the sunny side.” Mowing the church grounds gives him purpose, plus a little extra income. A drive to the grocery is much needed “me-time,” listening to his favorite music on the car radio.
This beautiful song he has chosen, “You Are Mine,” is what helps him in the silence. The sense of connection, of belonging to that Greater Life who “called you by name.” To be watched over and seen and recognized even with a messed-up left side means, to JFP, “I’m not doing this alone.”
It’s been a long haul for this elderly man and his semi-invalid wife of 52 years. But, as he says, “I signed up for the whole trip and I intend to get there.”
I’m wondering: Are there many others like this?
invitation to chime in…
How do you resonate with this man’s plight? What helps you keep on when nothing is getting any better for you? What does it feel like when no one really knows what you have to put up with? What are the biggest frustrations?
Please let us know your thoughts in the comment area below.
(Your comments will be included in the Ebook Keepsake you will receive after the 12 days are done.)😜 “wink”
link to yesterday’s page
(in case you missed it):
DAY 1 – Magenta: Waiting in Darkness