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Dumb argument.....hate this stuff
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<blockquote data-quote="Star*" data-source="post: 120930" data-attributes="member: 4964"><p>Linda - </p><p></p><p>It's NOT a stupid argument. It's frustration leaving the body of someone who until recently has not had to deal with, or though about how to prepare himself for life with someone disabled. </p><p></p><p>When DF went in for back surgery - he was a thin, vibrant, sassy man. I loved those qualities about him so much. He's very intelligent, fun to joke with, kept me going when difficult child wanted to make my days so long. And I felt he was my soul mate. After 34 years - finally a decent man. My counseling paid off. </p><p></p><p>When DF came OUT of back surgery - he was whiney, moody, a jerk, no fun to be around at all - everything I despised in a man. He's on so much methadone that our conversations are lacking to the extent that I either started talking to the dog or my lips dried shut from lack of speaking. </p><p></p><p>I thought that after a few weeks he'd be better or show some improvement. After a few months I (woman of stone) was sitting on my back porch; he in the bed making ridiculous demands and out of his head on Oxycontin and Tylox - crying a river. I called his sister to ask a medical question and tell her that I now hate her brother. I felt ripped off. </p><p></p><p>I just met this guy (relatively speaking) late life relationship and now I had to adjust to this disability. Then the not sleeping because the medications made his nap all day, and the wandering the house, the tv is up so loud because he's now deaf, his weight is morbidly obese - and all in 5 years. He lost his teeth due to the 4th re-surgery to correct the 1st surgery as MRSA was present in the hospital and that ended up sending him back for the 5th surgery and a hole so big in his back I could put my hand in it - they left it like that to drain. </p><p></p><p>I remember those "What do you want to be" talks and the VERY LAST, ABSOLUTE WITHOUT a DOUBT thing I EVER< NEVER wanted to be was a nurse. I can't take care of people. I don't have patience. I dont' want to be around sick people, I want to live, get out, have dinner, enjoy life - I want it like it was before the surgery and it pisses me off that I have to ONCE AGAIN in my life "ADJUST". </p><p></p><p>But it was either - adjust or leave. I help out 5 years hoping something would get better. And in the mean time - difficult child acted his very worst, the government lost all his SSI paperwork TWICE - they kept him waiting for 5 years for approval on a check that won't put paper products in our house - and my credit after working 3 jobs due to x = went right back in the sewer so we could try to live. Sure we got a small settlement - but nothing to be joyful over - we were broke, sold all our stuff - and were living on mac and cheese. </p><p></p><p>And on top of THAT - every day stress, and the most horrible thing - Watching him deteriorate daily - gain weight daily, seem to be more in a fog - daily and most of all his depression - daily. </p><p></p><p>No one but him and you know what paid you face each day. NO ONE. You can tell me how bad it hurts - you can show me the bruises, and swelling, you can talk a blue streak about how you can't go to sleep no matter how much dope you do - (although trazadone does help him now) but I STILL can't know what you are going through. I'm only going to know that my love is hurting, and the hurt is now habit and the habit can be annoying - and I have to get up and go to work so If you're going to "wander" go - but then I worry because YOU MAY FALL - you may need me - you may drop something =- and I won't be there. And I've always been there. </p><p></p><p>Your hubby - needs to find a way to cope. Whatever it takes - because our house is never going to navigate the same - and I've accepted that most days - but dont' deny me a bad mood here and there because while I feel blessed I feel ripped off on occasion for having to watch him. </p><p></p><p>Struggle - it's a household name. </p><p></p><p>Hugs</p><p>Star</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Star*, post: 120930, member: 4964"] Linda - It's NOT a stupid argument. It's frustration leaving the body of someone who until recently has not had to deal with, or though about how to prepare himself for life with someone disabled. When DF went in for back surgery - he was a thin, vibrant, sassy man. I loved those qualities about him so much. He's very intelligent, fun to joke with, kept me going when difficult child wanted to make my days so long. And I felt he was my soul mate. After 34 years - finally a decent man. My counseling paid off. When DF came OUT of back surgery - he was whiney, moody, a jerk, no fun to be around at all - everything I despised in a man. He's on so much methadone that our conversations are lacking to the extent that I either started talking to the dog or my lips dried shut from lack of speaking. I thought that after a few weeks he'd be better or show some improvement. After a few months I (woman of stone) was sitting on my back porch; he in the bed making ridiculous demands and out of his head on Oxycontin and Tylox - crying a river. I called his sister to ask a medical question and tell her that I now hate her brother. I felt ripped off. I just met this guy (relatively speaking) late life relationship and now I had to adjust to this disability. Then the not sleeping because the medications made his nap all day, and the wandering the house, the tv is up so loud because he's now deaf, his weight is morbidly obese - and all in 5 years. He lost his teeth due to the 4th re-surgery to correct the 1st surgery as MRSA was present in the hospital and that ended up sending him back for the 5th surgery and a hole so big in his back I could put my hand in it - they left it like that to drain. I remember those "What do you want to be" talks and the VERY LAST, ABSOLUTE WITHOUT a DOUBT thing I EVER< NEVER wanted to be was a nurse. I can't take care of people. I don't have patience. I dont' want to be around sick people, I want to live, get out, have dinner, enjoy life - I want it like it was before the surgery and it pisses me off that I have to ONCE AGAIN in my life "ADJUST". But it was either - adjust or leave. I help out 5 years hoping something would get better. And in the mean time - difficult child acted his very worst, the government lost all his SSI paperwork TWICE - they kept him waiting for 5 years for approval on a check that won't put paper products in our house - and my credit after working 3 jobs due to x = went right back in the sewer so we could try to live. Sure we got a small settlement - but nothing to be joyful over - we were broke, sold all our stuff - and were living on mac and cheese. And on top of THAT - every day stress, and the most horrible thing - Watching him deteriorate daily - gain weight daily, seem to be more in a fog - daily and most of all his depression - daily. No one but him and you know what paid you face each day. NO ONE. You can tell me how bad it hurts - you can show me the bruises, and swelling, you can talk a blue streak about how you can't go to sleep no matter how much dope you do - (although trazadone does help him now) but I STILL can't know what you are going through. I'm only going to know that my love is hurting, and the hurt is now habit and the habit can be annoying - and I have to get up and go to work so If you're going to "wander" go - but then I worry because YOU MAY FALL - you may need me - you may drop something =- and I won't be there. And I've always been there. Your hubby - needs to find a way to cope. Whatever it takes - because our house is never going to navigate the same - and I've accepted that most days - but dont' deny me a bad mood here and there because while I feel blessed I feel ripped off on occasion for having to watch him. Struggle - it's a household name. Hugs Star [/QUOTE]
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