I Am Only Human

Two weeks ago my girlfriend underwent a radical bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction because she has the BRCA2 gene that predisposes her to breast cancer.  It's a brutal surgery, with three sites.  She is cut from hip to hip, and both breasts have been removed and reconstructed using fat from her abdomen.  Arteries had to be threaded up through her body to the breast, which involved moving around ribs. Her navel was lifted up and then stitched back in place.  So, she is battered and bruises and scared.  And she is exceptionally strong and brave.  The surgery took 8 hours and she was in the hospital for 5 days.

My role as care taker should have been fairly easy.  Just do whatever I can to make her comfortable and take care of the chores she is not able to do.  I packed a bag and moved in to her place for as long as she needed me.  Long days were spent by her side at the hospital, making her comfortable and doing what the nurses were too busy to do.  Little things.  Finding clean linens and refilling the ice water.  I read to her and we talked a lot.  It was hard to see her so uncomfortable and in so much pain, but her spirits were good.

Last Friday she came home.  We were both exhausted and emotionally drained.  She had had a bad night the night before and it broke my heart to see her suffer so much.  It was wonderful to get her home and I figured the worst was over.  I was wrong.  I consider myself a fairly compassionate person and my natural instinct is to "care take" others, neglecting my own needs.  I knew I was tired but I thought I was okay.  I was shocked and upset to find myself irritable and overwhelmed and bitchy.  What was wrong with me?  I was tearful and often angry.  I felt like such a failure and when she said she was going to get help because it was obviously too much for me, I was devastated.  I wanted to do it all.  I needed to do it all.  I am not sure what was in place, what was going on.  All I know is that there were more triggers than a gun shop.  I am still trying to process it all.  Now that she is getting better and needs less attention from me, I am able to handle things better and things are settling down.  I have even been able to move back to my own place and just come and be with her during the day.

Here are the things I have learned about being a caretaker of someone you love.

1.  Any issues you had before the surgery or illness will not take a vacation until your loved one recovers.  They will be magnified, and you won't have to the energy or emotional resources to deal with them.

2.  You may feel it should not be about you as you are not the one having the surgery.  But it is about you, it affects you and you will have emotional reactions that will surprise you.  I am still dealing with the trauma of seeing her in tremendous pain only to have a nurse come in and thrust the cumadin intra muscular needle in to her thigh, causing her to scream out in agony.  It rings in my ears.

3.  Hospitals are awful, crowded, noisy, smelly places with little privacy and absolutely no dignity.  They take their toll on both patient and family.

4.  If you have health issues of your own, you need to pay attention. Take care of yourself.  Get rest.  You cannot expect compassion from the patient.   Any sigh, grunt, or stiffness when walking will be taken in by the patient and they will attempt to do things they shouldn't because they feel guilty.  This was the hardest thing for me.  That I was expected to be perfect.

5.  Accept help from others.  And be grateful. No one expects you to do it all.  Except you.  Let that go.

6.  Humour is a lifesaver.   If you cant' laugh, you will go crazy.  And we have laughed a lot.  We have had many disasters and crises, not all surgery related.  But we managed to handle them with humour and it made all the difference.

7.  And last of all, this is temporary.  Things will improve.  Remember that.  Remember how much you love the person you are taking care of, and realize that the way they are now is not the real person.   It's a wounded, sick, recovering person who has been through hell, with you walking beside them, for better or for worse.