When the doctor came in to ask what we thought about going home, we had already talked about it. Fortunately we had that option. In talking with the husband of the patient on the other end of the hall, they will not have the opportunity to have that conversation with the doctor. He said they only have a few months. How do you give hope to someone who thinks this is all there is to life? All I could give as hope was that the doctors do not know everything but God does. We trust Him.
"Are you ready to go home" is sort of like being asked "Are you allergic to anything?" The doctor is expecting an answer. The typical answer to "Are you allergic to anything" is either yes or no. My answer is "not anything I have had so far but I don't have a clue about what you are about to give me since I have never had it before." Probably not what they want to hear, but how the heck do I know, I'm not omniscient like God.
So "are you ready to go home" has permutations that we do not expect. "Are you ready to not have to be in the hospital?" is easy to answer. "Are you ready not to have to make the daily pilgrimage to this place?" is also a no-brainer. "Are you glad this process is over and you are beginning to feel better?" should be self-evident. "Are you glad to not have to drag an IV pole with you wherever you go?" means she would have to leave her "buddy" behind. Sorry buddy.
But how can you be ready for something you have never done before? I know I am not the natural care-giver type. Some people have that instinct and others have that training. I have neither. Lucy and I handle illness and recovery differently. She likes the attention and having her pillows fluffed. I am like a dog who goes into the corner and hides until I get better. Let me ask you, "Do YOU want someone like me for your care-giver?" And, by the way, what does being a care-giver for someone recovering from a bone marrow re-infusion entail? Not like I have done that a lot in my past, so I have asked for advice.
The advice I got is like a lot of advice you get. Everyone has an opinion and they all . . . are different. (I know what you are thinking). God broke the mold after each of us; there are no two alike. So how I do it is different than anyone else. How Lucy recovers is different than anyone else. We both shared our concerns with each other and seemed not overwhelmed by them so we took the opportunity to be (off let) or discharged. It may have been more like escape.
She is out of the hospital but not instantly better. It's not like walking through the front door magically fixes everything. She is still recovering from having her bone marrow intentionally and aggressively destroyed and cells designed to rebuild it re-infused so the process can begin. It is not like microwave recovery.
When you are not a natural or trained caregiver, being the primary caregiver for a person recovering from this process seems sometimes overwhelming. I know it is frustrating for me and can only imagine how frustrating it is for Lucy. PLUS she is the sick one.
So how am I doing? Megan has been praying no one dies. She has been praying that her mama will not die under my care and that her mama will not kill her father while he is the primary caregiver. So far, her prayers have been answered. God always answers prayer.
Personally this is one experience I could have done without. Will it make me a better person? Not my concern right now. Will Lucy survive it? A concern, but there is more than this life and the one after is so much better. Is this a great adventure that we share together? We are sharing it. Is God getting the glory through this? Man you ask hard questions. A hurricane looks so different from the approach, being in the eye and going away. Can't tell you where we are on that timeline. And where we are is not as important as how and who we are on it.
That's why this blog is called random thoughts.
"Are you ready to go home" is sort of like being asked "Are you allergic to anything?" The doctor is expecting an answer. The typical answer to "Are you allergic to anything" is either yes or no. My answer is "not anything I have had so far but I don't have a clue about what you are about to give me since I have never had it before." Probably not what they want to hear, but how the heck do I know, I'm not omniscient like God.
So "are you ready to go home" has permutations that we do not expect. "Are you ready to not have to be in the hospital?" is easy to answer. "Are you ready not to have to make the daily pilgrimage to this place?" is also a no-brainer. "Are you glad this process is over and you are beginning to feel better?" should be self-evident. "Are you glad to not have to drag an IV pole with you wherever you go?" means she would have to leave her "buddy" behind. Sorry buddy.
But how can you be ready for something you have never done before? I know I am not the natural care-giver type. Some people have that instinct and others have that training. I have neither. Lucy and I handle illness and recovery differently. She likes the attention and having her pillows fluffed. I am like a dog who goes into the corner and hides until I get better. Let me ask you, "Do YOU want someone like me for your care-giver?" And, by the way, what does being a care-giver for someone recovering from a bone marrow re-infusion entail? Not like I have done that a lot in my past, so I have asked for advice.
The advice I got is like a lot of advice you get. Everyone has an opinion and they all . . . are different. (I know what you are thinking). God broke the mold after each of us; there are no two alike. So how I do it is different than anyone else. How Lucy recovers is different than anyone else. We both shared our concerns with each other and seemed not overwhelmed by them so we took the opportunity to be (off let) or discharged. It may have been more like escape.
She is out of the hospital but not instantly better. It's not like walking through the front door magically fixes everything. She is still recovering from having her bone marrow intentionally and aggressively destroyed and cells designed to rebuild it re-infused so the process can begin. It is not like microwave recovery.
When you are not a natural or trained caregiver, being the primary caregiver for a person recovering from this process seems sometimes overwhelming. I know it is frustrating for me and can only imagine how frustrating it is for Lucy. PLUS she is the sick one.
So how am I doing? Megan has been praying no one dies. She has been praying that her mama will not die under my care and that her mama will not kill her father while he is the primary caregiver. So far, her prayers have been answered. God always answers prayer.
Personally this is one experience I could have done without. Will it make me a better person? Not my concern right now. Will Lucy survive it? A concern, but there is more than this life and the one after is so much better. Is this a great adventure that we share together? We are sharing it. Is God getting the glory through this? Man you ask hard questions. A hurricane looks so different from the approach, being in the eye and going away. Can't tell you where we are on that timeline. And where we are is not as important as how and who we are on it.
That's why this blog is called random thoughts.
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