Fleeing Hell With Consequences

Home truly is where the heart is. With a good hubby to take care of you and see to your every need, life had finally settled down and I could get on with the healing process.

With the use of the walker Gail leant to us, life seemed to become a breeze. At first, Nat and I struggled with getting me from my recliner to my bed, from my bed to the bathroom, as I was still dead weight, with just enough strength to push myself about an inch off of any surface. My balance was nowhere to be seen or felt and it was going to take a bit of strengthening to get further along where I could help myself without Nat’s assistance.

As the days went along, and the Thrush disappearing, I was able to eat small portions of Nat’s delicious home cooked meals. I had Trout or Haddock with boiled potatoes, a fried egg with one or two french fries, toast and jam in the morning and whatever else he could find that I would eat. Then one day, it became quite easy, as I managed to keep my dentures in for the full day and was finally able to eat food with a lot more ease. It felt so good to be able to swallow food and enjoy it. Suddenly, I was eating food with more substance like breaded chicken, lasagne or pasta, along with the Trout and Haddock and suddenly enjoying food again. Life was somehow getting a little better. My appetite was coming back. The hunger pangs I felt were real and now able to be fulfilled.

It didn’t take me long to realize I didn’t want to stop eating. I was now looking for anything that I could munch on – Honey Graham Crackers, Ritz Crackers, May Wests, and anything else we had in the house. Nat wasn’t too thrilled to go out and pick up a lot of junk food for me, as he had every intention of keeping me healthy as I tried to gain some weight and strength back into this aging body.

It was only a couple of weeks after arriving home that I could feel some improvement in my legs. I was at least now able to lift myself out of the recliner and grab onto the walker’s handles. I was at least relieving Nat of his heavy-lifing duties and I felt much better about that. There were a couple of times I got a little cocky and pushed things a bit far where I fell on my ass, banged my head and got into a situation where Nat had to lift me up off of the floor and back to the walker. I also got a little dizzy one morning and as I turned to go around the footboard of the bed, my head and shoulders went right while my ass wanted to go left. With my head now heavier than my ass, down I went just missing the footboard but still falling on my ass and banging the old noggin again. His looks said it all – take your time and don’t get ahead of yourself!!

Getting out of bed in the morning was also becoming easier, as I could grab onto the bed rail and lifted myself up to a sitting position where Nat could assist me a little with getting to my walker. I continued to perch myself in the recliner on a daily basis – not much else I could do – and my routine became easier as the days wore on.

It’s now been over three weeks and I’m able to help myself get up on my feet, grab the walker for a little support in walking, and also now able to take a couple of steps without the walker. Small steps now seem to mean the world to me. I’m beginning to gain back a bit of my independence even if Nat’s baby blue eyes are on me all the time.

I can tell I’m getting anxious now to get up and go, and despite the fact I was able to bake Nat’s raisin loaf one day, I want to get on to more baking to replenish the freezer with cookies, bread and scones for hubby’s enjoyment. He deserves whatever good things in life I can give him. He’s been so patient and strong in lifting me up, laying me down and getting me to wherever I’ve wanted to go. His mind races on a daily basis, even at night, which I can’t stop, but I can give him all my love in return for everything he’s done for me. I’ve never had such personal attention in my whole single life and for this I’m eternally grateful.

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