Wednesday, February 22, 2017

When frustrations mount

Ann was supposed to have an appointment with her Rheumatologist tomorrow. As per the previous post, she had been struggling with her legs. Now they are just weak--muscle atrophy, I believe. I was looking forward to her visit with her doctor as a prerequisite to getting some in-home physical therapy. Instead, she had a massive flare in her left arm (up to a 10 on the pain scale she says) and she called and canceled the appointment while I was at work. As her caregiver that frustrates me to no end. I wanted her to get walking better. She needs the help. I called and rescheduled it for her, but it's another six weeks out.
She is so heavy that if she ends up not being able to use her legs, there's no way I can help her in and out of a wheelchair to use the bathroom. And I can't be home full-time anyway, not and keep a roof over our heads. After her hospital stay last month, she had steadfastly determined that she wasn't going to go to the bariatric specialist for help with her weight via weigh-reduction surgery, even though they had provided a referral. I was hoping for the PT to get her healthy enough to walk, at least around the house, and then for her to consult with the bariatric specialists on how best to tackle the weight issue.
Instead, she is left with an uncertain and possibly grim future. Sometimes I'd just like to beat my head against the wall.
I have decided though, that beating my head will solve nothing, and allowing myself to be aggravated and frustrated won't help either. All I can do, is try and encourage, be there to pick up the pieces if and when they happen, and stay on top of my own health and happiness. And that's all really, that anyone who is a caregiver can reasonably expect.

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