Sunday Stroke Survival: Changing Responsibilities

Today's post is about changing responsibilities after a stroke. If you are like me, you had help to delegate your "chores" to children, in laws/outlaws, or just general family just after my first strokes.  I know many out there in reader land who do not have this luxury.

I was luckier and unlucky in that respect. I was able to gradually able to rapidly slide back into my new old life. I was only in hospital and a recovery unit for 30 days. It wasn't enough time.

BUT REMEMBER...

• Offers of help/assistance only apply on the other person's schedule not yours for the most part. I sometimes had  to call 3 or 4 people just to make one doctor or therapy appointment. But at least I had that option. Others without this resource have to depend on medical transport.

• This is only temporary. At best 1-6 months worth. After that, you become a burden to avoid. If I sound cynical, it's because I know human nature.
• After those willingness to help folks are gone or sporadic at best, you are on your own. 
• During this time you relinquish all control and choice to others. 
•  You'll know when you assert yourself as a back seat driver that you want your choices heard. This is taken as being ungratefully by the people who are trying to help you. They will distance themselves from you as a result.

Now for some other things...

• Shopping- when you send others to do your shopping for you, they spend more and pick up the wrong items. To go with them has a few obstacles. For me, this included finding someone to care for my terminally ill husband while I was gone. Then, there was the issue of my chronic fatigue after my strokes. An hour at physical therapy or shopping had me napping for an hour afterwards.
•  Cooking- You might be lucky and have a daughter who brought over a plate of food each day, or have a neighbor bring over a container of chicken & dumplings.This is a challenge on a daily basis even for a professionally.trained chef such as myself. Your brain is sluggish. Meal planning is almost an impossible feat. Stouffers and frozen meals to the rescue. Nuke and it. But soon the repeated meals wear you down. How many times can you eat lasagna or Welsh rabbit in a week? You want to cook, or at least I did, but I could barely stand.
• Cleaning- This can be very challenging without a dishwasher. I found that using a smaller sink. Sweeping is doable by holding the broomstick with your chin. The broomstick is also a great cane. Dustpans with a handle is an essential. Dusting, you can leans against the desk or furniture you are dusting. Laundry- I opted for a laundry service. For $0.75 a lb, they washed, dried and folded or hung your clothes. They even put it your car for you.

That pretty much covered the basics besides the self care. That's another open can of worms. I make

it sound so easy and it's not. But with each task you try and fail, or try and accomplish proves to yourself that you can do. Some parts of your life have taken a detour and gone walk about (God only knows when they will return). But even a baby step forward leads to confidence to take another.

 I challenge myself each and every day. Some mornings, it's a challenge to get out of bed, but I do it. That is an accomplishment to feel good about. To keep that victorious feeling going, I accept, even look for it, another challenge. Today for me is making a pharmacy run and go to Walmart for some items. I hate shopping at Walmart! Too big, too many people and a necessary trip. This is a major accomplishment. But that's not all. Today, I'm stepping  out of my comfort zone and raw packing beef stew into canning jars. I've never done this before. I've only hot packed this. Wish me luck.

Nothing is impossible.

What's a Girl to Do?

Saturday was my father's birthday. If you remember, he had another heart attack December 31st. We were glad he was still around to celebrate it on Sunday with a huge birthday bash thrown by his wife and neighbors. To everyone else he's good, old Jack, but to me he will always be Daddy. Yes, after all these years, I still call him Daddy.

He's a little bit more fragile with the passing years, but he's getting along pretty good for a man of his

About a 1/3 of us

advancing age. The day was filled with laughter and tears. He was surrounded by family (children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren) He's got a lot to be grateful for and knows it. His neighbors are fabulous people. All it would take is a phone call from my stepmother that he's fallen and can't get him up, and they'd drop whatever they were doing to help. Most of us, these days, count ourselves as lucky if we even know our neighbors' names.

As always food abound. Mass quantities were prepared by these same neighbors who cooked for me and mine after my beloved died. They are more than neighbors, they are officially my extended family. No really! My oldest grandson stated dating, the catty-cornered girl next door. Her uncle is one of my father's neighbors.  It's all relative now that the two youngsters are serious. You could call it a small town mentality or a deep south thing except we aren't a small town with a population of over 100K (my daughter and her family actually live in another town all together) and the fact that we are transplanted southerners. But, it's still great that we can have the small town relationships.

The reason why we had Daddy's birthday party on Sunday is because my oldest daughter got married on Saturday. She's the one moving to Alaska in a few weeks. She and her beloved wanted to be married surrounded by their friends and family before the big move. I can't blame her.

Her beloved's divorce was supposed to be finalized in December 2015. So they planned their wedding accordingly. Wedding take a lot of planning, invitations sent out well in advance, formal wear to purchase and rent, flowers, the cake, etc. They wanted to have everything done before he got transferred out of the lower 47  States. Not many of us would be able to fly to Alaska.

As of Friday last, the judge had not signed the divorce decree. Without the final paperwork the couple could not get a wedding license. So what's a girl to do? I mean everything was set up for their wedding. They had an unwedding of course. I mean everything was bought, rented and paid for by this time. A friend of theirs "officiated" the wedding ceremony because legally I couldn't. Nobody wanted to to go jail.

It was a beautiful service. Fairly fun reception. Just a very long day for me. I'll still be available to marry them official until they leave.

So another busy weekend gone to top off a full week. This week is more of the same. One of these days I'm going to have to find time to pack up my house. The clock is winding down for my big move.

Happy Independence Day! A Day Late

 A day late but just in time for Friday Fun.

For us it's a family reunion. It's the big one with family and friends from near and far. We rent out the big pavilion in one of the state parks so we have some cover because rain or shine we are going to get together.

 Last year many were surprised that I showed up being I was released from the rehab hospital the week earlier, but they were happy to see me. My children have taken over all of the cooking and prep this year. It was previously hosted by my father and I. We are both getting sort of long in the tooth so it's time for the younger generation to take over. My youngest daughter has been my father's apprentice for three years at the fine art of grilling. Believe me, when I say grilling poultry, seafood, and assorted fare is an art form when it's done right.With four generations present, it had to be done right. The girls did themselves proud.

We celebrate the fruits of our forefather's gift of independence this way. For the older two generations there was no cooking, food brought to us, abundance of young ones running around for us to envy their energy, and no clean up. While the younger generations went to view the fireworks display at the pier, us of the older two generations decided to watch the fireworks on our televisions and in our Lazyboys. Drifting off to sleep after a day of fun and sun well before the firework displays finished.

There are some advantages to getting older. Hope y'all had a great one.

Thursday Turmoil ~ A Response to Ali's Blog

This week over on Ali Cross' blog, she blogged about "Call Me If You Need Anything." I thought about leaving a long comment but didn't. I'll do it here today instead. It is a rant of sorts, so be warned.  It wouldn't be a Thursday Turmoil if it wasn't. It may sound like I've got a chip on my shoulder, please be aware that I don't. I'm just giving the other side's view.

Do you know how many people have made this comment to me over the past ten years since my husband got sick and the year since my stroke... everyone that knew our circumstances. When you consider the congregation at church (not only mine but other ten churches), the hospital that I was on pastoral staff, courthouses that I helped at a moment's notice, all the local groups such as writers and businesses, foundations, ministry, work related, co-workers, etc not to mention friends of our family, it tallies up to a quarter of million times. No, that's not an exaggeration.

The little devil on my shoulder wants to answer dripping with sarcasm...
NEED ANYTHING? For my DH (darling hubby) Got a cure for cancer handy? Stop his pain. Or maybe you can restore my husband to his former robust self. For me, it's give me back the use my arm, wrist, hand and fingers, or make me walk without a AFO and cane, or maybe restore my mind to pre-stroke status. But no, I flick the devil off and answer that there isn't anything they can do for us and there isn't as far as those needs are concerned.

Now I know all these people will help IF- A) there was anything I truly needed, and/or B) if they have the time. Some would even stop what they were doing to help. All I have to do is ask and there's the problem. I have to remember who offered what, find their telephone number, match my need to their schedule and then if they can't go down the list to find someone who can. That's a lot of talking on the phone for someone like me with aphasia and no short term memory.


Now, I understand people saying this because they don't know what to say to you. I understand they mean well and are genuine in their offer of help. I also understand they have their own lives and I don't want to be a burden. This isn't a slap in the face to those that offered or didn't offer help.

My children and grandchildren are different. They know my house is a diaster area waiting on a condemned sign with half finished renovation projects. Clothes piled up yeah high, a sink with dirty dishes, floors scattered with debris because I didn't have the energy to vacuum because I used the last ounce I had taking care of my husband. "Gee whiz Grandma, let me carry out that bag of trash to the dumpster for you" type thing. "Can I roll it out to the street for you?" They all see me at least once a week. Besides, they owe me.

Not that others don't owe me as well, they do. But I never intended on collecting on those debts. I've always been generous to those in need even now even if it's a listening ear or sage bit of wisdom. Worse comes to worse the least I can do is pray.

The other well meaning statement I often hear is, "You're doing so much better than the last time I
saw you." The last time you saw me was when I was in the hospital just after my stroke or right after I got out when I couldn't talk, barely swallow, couldn't walk, or barely lift my head. Well doh! I've worked hard this year. I've worked harder than when I was holding down a full time and a part time jobs, raising four children alone, and going to college learning how to do something else with my life. The achievements and modifications I've made in the past year in our lives, 99% was because I HAD to take care of myself and my husband with children, their spouses and grandchildren thrown into the mix...just like y'all. Life does go on so long as we're above ground. The only thing I could do was go on.

For this I honestly thank y'all. I wouldn't have gained so much if y'all had of helped me do everything. But getting back to Ali's post for a minute. The gist of her post was not to offer help, but act. I agree with this wholeheartedly. If you are going shopping, call and ask me if I want to go or need anything from the store. Cook an extra plate or two of food and bring it by. It won't be turned down. Drop a card in the mail when you think of us.(Please something besides bills and AT&T ads) Most times when people ask me if I need anything, I can't think of anything at the moment. Maybe a card with your phone number on it and what you are willing to do would be helpful.

And to all those gentel, southern gentlemen who rush to open doors for me...thank you. A word of caution though. If I've propped my cane on my arm and am pushing on the door, please don't push the door open for me. I'm using it for support and balance.

Thanks for listening.


 

The Fast Getaway

For the last two weeks, I've done nuthin' but mourn the loss of the movement I'd gained with the Botox working and I do mean NOTHING. I haven't written, haven't shopped, barely cooked besides nuke 'em meals, or done absolutely anything but front seat issues that pop up.

I hear you, "But Jo, I've read your blog almost everyday and you say you haven't written." Nope not even written. I did a fast getaway.The beauty of the scheduler. I've slept and read more, and just vegetated. Movement of my right arm causes the spasms and spastcity to increase thus pain levels. My right ankle has regressed to the point of me considering using my wheelchair full time.

I dreamed of an out of body experience where I left this body and mind behind, and I could do everything again. Instead of being trapped in a body that couldn't do much. There was comfort in those fast getaways and I chose to stay in them. Everyone needs a break sometimes, but where can you actually getaway to if you have to take your body with you? Yep, I'm talking about a major depressive state.

Well, to make a drag on story short, I'm over it now. My mind is still a bit foggy, but I'm attributing it to the increase of medications I'm taking to combat the pain I'm in. AND so I begin again. It's time to get off the pity pot and fight FOR me and not AGAINST me.

Diane from The Pink House on the Corner blog went through a similar state a couple of weeks ago from the caregiver side. But unlike her I'm the stroke survivor and the caregiver for my husband. Wohoo! The double helpings for me. Everyone just loves double helpings, don't they? I

mean it could always be worse ------>

That's the beauty of living a glass half full kind of life. Even so, there are limits to my positive attitude. At times like this is when friends and family come into play as my lifesavers. A few days here and there are fine, but not anything longer.  They spring into action unbidden.

I've touched a lot of lives in my professional capacity as a minister and just being me. In my life, The picture of the five scoops are the "reap what you sow" kind of things in relationships I've developed over the years.

For example I received the news that my attorney was pulling out of a possible legal action because he felt it was a case he couldn't win. While talking to him my call waiting was constantly buzzing which I ignored. I was in a more depressed state than I was in before. I was actually crying in disappointment and anger. This didn't help my aphasia or relieve the concern of my husband seeing me such a state. In fact it constricted my throat where I was having a really hard time breathing let alone speaking. Ya gotta love paralysis after a stroke. It is just so much fun being me.

After I calmed down, explained to my husband what was going on, and looked at my phone to see who was insistently calling when I was speaking to my, now former, lawyer. It was my daughter, Jennifer. I called her back to make sure nothing was terribly wrong because she's coming down to visit over Mother's Day weekend with my youngest grandson and granddaughter.

Nothing was wrong. She had a story to tell me. A couple of weeks ago for my birthday. She came to visit during the week for several days. She took with her all my blankets to wash in her new fangled, high efficiency washer with a steam cycle. While she was here she did the mortal combat maneuver with the spider population in my house. Think back to my Creepy Crawlies excerpt. Remember I can't look up and get the cobwebs and keep my balance. She's deathly afraid of spiders, but loves her momma more.

The story unfolds...She put a load of blankets into the machine and goes to unload them from her washer. And what does find after going through the hot cycle, bleach, and steam...a spider. He's not dead but crawling, albeit drunkenly, out of her washer. Alive! She said, "Mom, I didn't have the heart to kill it. I got a cup and a spoon, and put it outside in my garden."

She had me rolling with laughter which broke my depressive state. This time I was crying and my throat was constricting with merriment. Now I fully expect to get these depressive states again, but I know my family and friends will snap me back if I can't break the cycle myself.