I Suspect My Family Is Planning an Intervention.
I have made lack of long term planning an art form.
I think I have come to grips with what is really bothering me. In October, I was doing well. I had established a routine I loved. I was exercising, scleroderma seemed to have run it’s course and it felt as though the clouds in my brain had parted and beams of sunshine warmed my mind and spirit. While all this happiness was going on, I neglected one thing: Preparation. I had not prepared for unexpected complications. I had local support from friends and family, but there was no plan on for a long term, unexpected hospital stay. Brilliant!
My failure to be prepared has been haunting me these past couple of weeks. I had a few days of deep depression, until I stopped bouncing off the walls and bounced out of bed. I accepted my feelings that I was irresponsible and selfish about this. I am 43 years old. I should have known better. I have two chronic illnesses and there is no reason I should not have my affairs in order. Not because I think I’m dying, it’s my responsibility as an adult. No excuses. Just onward.
Today, I Get Organized.
And I have someone to help me do it. I was authorized Homemaker Assistance by the Veteran’s Administration for 90 days. Twice a week, I have a helper. She started last Friday. I was a bit worried the company might send someone who would not be happy about helping someone with laundry. It;s happened before. In the 2003, I was authorized a home heath helper. The helper came and when she found out there would be house work involved and I could dress myself, the next week I was sent someone who my ex-husband thinks stole DVD’s and had a whole host of personal problems she brought to work with her. But not this time. I was sent an amazing woman who not only showed enthusiasm to help me and inspired me to keep going. I felt stronger for three days after her first visit. I am not sure how to explain it. I never felt like I was helpless and overwhelmed when she was here. I felt empowered and was reminded by doing, that I am still capable.
Arthur Fonzarrili’s May Be My Distant Cousin.
Remember the show Happy Days? (Oh you don’t? Google it youngster.) Remember the character, Fonzi, would never say he was wrr-wrr-wrr-wrong? I would not ask for he-he-he-help. I would take boxes of files and set them in my living room with the intent to organize. Then I would get 15 minutes into it, injure myself or find an obstacle and stop. I moved here in August. Here are the files I intended to organize. It’s JANUARY. These boxes have been sitting in my room since August. That bag on the left, that’s last weeks laundry. I’m not sure, but my family may be in the process of planning an intervention and I don’t blame them. Hopefully
When I got out of the hospital and the VA Hospital Social Worker called to see how I was doing, Instead of my almost reflexive answer, “I’m okay.” Instead, I calmly explained what I needed in terms of assistance. She, a nurse practitioner and another social worker found a way to get me approved for assistance at home. The VA is still working out the kinks of catering only to old men. They have made a tremendous amount of progress, but there is always unexpected ground to break in any system. And in this system, I am so thankful to work with some of the finest human beings in health care. So, onward.
I have to go now, she’ll be here in 15 minutes. Maybe I will post a picture of that as a corner empty space tomorrow. Who knows, anything is possible. Happy Wednesday!