An emergency car purchase. Wedding plans. Our first offspring to be purchasing a house. Mild family tensions. A normal week.
I've forgotten Michael's regular doses of medication twice recently. He nearly escaped on me once WITH the keys to the new car in hand.
He has responded well to the new medication. Blood pressure seems to have normalized and the bowels are working well. In fact, all round he is physically better, thanks to Motillium, with more energy and more mobility. A great success so far except in the cognitive department. If anything, that has worsened which makes the increased mobility a bigger concern; with the nicer spring weather, get-away is that much easier and that much more enticing. And I'm out of practise after his winter of nearly complete immobility and lethargy. My Michael-sensors are dulled.
But on quiet reflection, I am happy, despite slightly diminished attentiveness. I think, after two-and-a-half years of this intensive care, I have finally reached a level of contentment with this job. No longer am I bristling for a sign - any sign - to indicate the future path of Michael's disease. I have learned to be content with and submissive to whatever might reveal itself, however long it takes to play out. I have accepted that this is my job for the foreseeable future; I am no longer wishing otherwise.
I am very lucky: I am healthy. No financial worries. A beautiful home and community. A loving and concerned family and group of friends. Tremendous support from the social and medical services that allow fourteen hours of respite per week and medical care for Michael at home when I need it, all at no cost to me. Friends drop by regularly for cups of tea. The telephone rings and laughter often fills my day. I have even summoned the courage to take Michael out to visit my brother one afternoon recently, an activity I could not have attempted a mere month ago. I am entertaining thoughts of taking him farther.
I am my husband's keeper but when his time comes to leave us, whenever that might be, my sister appeared in a dream two nights ago as if to reassure me that the burden will be taken from me and Michael will be in good hands. She stood before me, arms outstretched for an embrace, my husband standing behind her, protected, awaiting her. Every time before now that I have worried about a dying family member, my dad vividly appears with that person in a dream to assuage my concern. Though I awaken saddened, I am always comforted just as I was this time, my sister taking his place.
We approach the anniversary of my sister's passing coinciding with my mother's birthday, then the next day a Nearly New Sale weekend along with the most holy time in the Baha'i community. It will soon be Ridvan, a time for joy, reflection and celebration.
Congrats, Claire, on the newfound serenity. No one deserves it more. Glad to hear that Michael is doing well on the new meds. My dreams are mostly wacky lately, but I would love to have a reassuring one for a change. I was very touched by your description of your own. A very Happy Ridvan celebration to you!
ReplyDeleteHere's to happy dreams for everyone, Bruce. Thanks for your kind comments, as always.
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