Let me clarify martyrdom, I am not referring to those that have given their lives for their religious beliefs. That is not something I can remotely understand, but it is not dumb. I have very wavering religious beliefs so it would be hard for me to die for them as they change every other day. The martyrdom I am referring to is the stupid notion that one must take it all on themselves. (Insert image of tired woman with back of hand on forehead). How the notion of someone suffering because they are doing it all became martyrdom is beyond me, because the two actions are certainly not interchangeable.
A week and a half ago, Danny had back surgery. Two surgeries actually, on Thursday and Friday. Also on Friday, the biggest work project I annually have also started. Add to that, bad weather, daughters driving hundreds of miles and an out of whack shoulder. I was determined to handle all of it. I was going to be at the hospital in the mornings for surgery, go to work, keep up on texts as the drivers stopped for gas, go back to the hospital, come home, push some snow (can't get the snowblower started with my bad shoulder) sleep and do it again. I thought this was what I was supposed to do. The first snowstorm I came home to a snow blown front walk and started to cry in the driveway. The following day I came home from the hospital to find the entire drive shoveled by Jacob and the waterworks began again. Obviously, I needed help but oddly, wasn't asking. I worked the weekend, visited Danny and came home bone tired. The work project is pretty physical, a lot of bending, lifting and reading very small print. I have done this project on my own a dozen times over the last 10 years, I am efficient and usually have no problem getting it done in a week, but I had never had a week like this one.
Danny came home Monday and I knew immediately that I needed to stay home with him on Tuesday. We were not prepared for the recovery of this surgery. The doctors certainly gave us best case scenario and though Danny was not completely incapacitated, he was not without the need of a lot of assistance. The hospital had his medications spread out over a two to four hour span. We were up a lot in the night.
Tuesday night I had my first ever experience with sleep paralysis. My brothers in law and son had all experienced it, so I knew what it was, but had no idea what it would feel like. The details of my dream didn't relate to what was going on in my life, but I can only guess that the stress I had put myself under was what had set this experience in motion. My muffled calls for help in my sleep were alarming enough to force Danny to roll over in bed to wake me. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was unable to move but felt like I needed to, I yelled for help but the words would not be heard. I knew there was danger coming through the door in my dream though I never saw what it was. Exhausted, I made the decision to stay home on Wednesday. It snowed again on Wednesday. Two of Danny's friends came over after work and cleared the driveway for us. At work, other employees took care of that day's duties and I finally made peace with not doing it all. And, you know what, I am no less of a human for it.
There is no gold star next to my name if I get the project done all by myself. In fact, the project is designed to be done by teams so it is expected that several people complete the project. At 49, I don't physically come back from a day like I used to. I seem to require my full eight hours of sleep and for these few days, wasn't getting close to that. I'm no martyr. Nor did I set out to be one. I just didn't think that week would be that hard. We asked the questions at the appointment before surgery so we could be prepared, they just didn't give us much for answers. And I thought the work project would be manageable, but in years past, I was always able to get a head start on it, this year, I wasn't. Lesson learned. Help is not a four letter word. Well, it is, but it isn't a bad word. This was a lesson taught to me years ago by Father Hurley. I should have remembered. People want to help, they just need to know how. Most people aren't mind readers, they don't know how one is struggling. And even when a person is aware of what is going on, they cannot possibly know what kind of support is already in place. Additionally, everyone of the people that helped me out this week and every other time, have their own snow to shovel so to speak.
I've know there are a lot of people that have to do it all themselves. They have no support system for whatever reason and I am not making light of your situation. If it's you, send me a message, I can help.
I shared my epiphany with a friend of mine and she said that she was glad for it. She didn't know how I was going to cope as the week was giving me pressure on the physical, mental and emotional front. She was proud of me, she said. And mine was only a week so I thought I could do it. Not out of pride, just didn't expect all the feels to beat me down.
Caregivers so often forget to care for themselves. I see it so often at Walgreens when the harried person comes in for a prescription and walker and chocolates. They are often overwhelmed with it all in the beginning and slowly become immune to their own needs. Or they become so bitter because they aren't given the help they expect but don't ask for. In my own week, the girls were on vacation and Jacob had recently moved out. I didn't want to burden Jacob with coming over to shovel. He did it gladly (well, you know).
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