These past few weeks have been ones of ups and downs, mostly ups.
My dear husband, Alan, had minor surgery on the Monday before Memorial Day, and was released. He was back in the hospital the following night because he fell, and since his wound was showing signs of lots of fresh blood, I decided to take him to the ER. Thus began the "I'm tired" part of the journey.
It found out in his re-examination that he had had a heart attack either right after he was put in the recovery room, or when he fell. He doesn't remember feeling any chest hurt when he fell. And, he had all kinds of heart tests before the minor surgery. So, I left that night (way after midnight) as they checked him in. I had his room number and I was ready for the next day. Talking to the heart people at our wonderful Anderson Mercy Hospital. Alan was going to require double bypass, which turned out to be triple bypass. He was not a happy camper. Thus began part III of the journey, "I'm more than tired". Alan was not a good patient, he even admitted when he didn't do as the nurse and doctor had told him to do to get himself ready for the surgery the he was stubborn and didn't want to do the exercises.
After surgery I kept going to the hospital, getting updates every four hours, and then getting a full-day's worth of updates when I stepped into the heart surgery unit (ICU). He was doing pretty going for going through so much stuff, but he was still complaining about everything. That was very wearing on me. Our puppy, thankfully was in a kennel until I thought I was able to bring her home.
The thing is, I was so tired when I got home, but the house was so quiet, I brought her home shortly after Alan was put into a rehab unit about five minutes from our home. Talk about being tired. For me getting from the parking lot to his room was a long haul. My own chest hurt by the time I got to his room every day and then I would pick up his laundry which was a lot, and would come home and take care of then so that I could bring back clean clothes in the morning when I went back to the rehab unit. After two weeks of having the puppy back home, I had to put her back in the kennel because she just completely wore me out.
Alan absolutely hated it in the Rehab Center, and after day one he insisted he was well enough to come home. Well, he wasn't, and I was able to stall him for three weeks before he wore me, the PT head, the Dr., and all the nurses down and we just decided to let him come home and if he fell or couldn't handle anything, he could come back to the Rehab Center (for up to 30 days after discharge). So, six weeks after surgery he came home.
You know what? He handled it. He is doing great. He gets stronger every day, and today he walked into one of his doctors offices with only his cane for support. Now that I was happy about that but he did it. We brought the dog home Monday afternoon, and that when I went from...
...being just tired.
I am now weary. I'm more tired at this point. I'm just plain weary. And scheduling all the home health are stuff along with nine doctors' appointments, as well as my own physical therapy, which I have had only three times in the last six weeks, and I can feel it, helped my situations any. But I'm a good scheduler and can set dates, cancel dates, switch dates around. etc. Tot day we sorted his pills for this week. What a mammoth job. It took us two hours to sort out his pills for one week.
Tomorrow we see another doctor. This one SHOULD regulate all his meds and alleviate some of my angst.
I get from strength from the Lord who made Heaven and Earth. So while this body is weary, I still have strength from the Lord who made me. It's a promise. I just have to find it!!!