I would love to show you all a picture of my sock progress, but it’s so hilariously behind schedule. I intend to knit until I drop to get something to photograph!
Yesterday at around this time the cuff on my sock was 8″ long and I was ready to begin the heel flap. I started that following the directions in my pattern and dropped several stitches off the needle I wasn’t working on. After squinting for 45 minutes or so trying to pick them up, I lost patience and ripped it all out. Now the cuff on my sock is 1.5″. And so I start again ………
This is sort of a theme in my life – back up, start over. I must admit that I am a perfectionist. If something doesn’t look right I do it over. The stitches I put back on my needles didn’t look right. I start over. Knitting the cuff is the easy part ………. which might be why I’m frozen in fear while trying to knit the heel flap. Ah.
Other parts of my life are equally as intense right now. I noticed last weekend while visiting my husband at the nursing home that his muscles seemed rigid. Since this is the track of his disease, I was concerned about this. He’s also not eating all of his meals and sometimes none of his meals. He got a good talking to. As I said, I’m here every two days. That’s my job. Your job is to eat. Well he listens to me at the nursing home about as well as he did at home. Not.
The nurse and I discussed his movement issues and his being frightened when you straighten out his chair or move him closer to the table. We decided to ask the doctor for something to relax him. We did. She did. He fell. Oh yes, he fell the very next day after having the relaxing medication. The nurse had told me that it might make him out of balance. She also said he is inches away from a wheelchair. I don’t mind the wheelchair if he is more comfortable.
After the fall, they stopped the medication until they could talk to the doctor. I’m not sure what she decided but when I visited yesterday he was back on his walker. Since he won’t eat much, I have upped my visiting time to lunch time rather than after. I sit next to him and prod him to eat. Nag him to eat. So far during the two lunches I have been there, he has eaten. I mentioned that to a CNA and she told me he wants to be at home with me and that’s why he’s not eating. Cool. Not cool. (CNA should shut up.)
So now I have more guilt feeling like if only I bring him home, he will eat. Of course I will have to 1) rent a hospital bed and a commode 2) figure out how to get him up the stairs into the house 3) toilet him while getting him upstairs to the bathroom in a hurry when he can’t hardly walk 4) never leave him alone for a minute so he doesn’t hurt himself 5) do laundry 7 or 8 times a day 6) wash him top to bottom 7) prepare all of his and our meals 8) figure out how to get out to buy groceries with DS while not leaving DH alone 9) figure out how to take him to the doctor every time he needs to be seen 10) over and over and over repeat all steps.
Needless to say, he will not be coming home. I can’t go back to doing what I was doing. I can feel guilty, which is a hell of a lot better than feeling helpless. And even though he’s “sad” that he’s not at home, when I am not there he’s fine. I get that. There are many people taking care of him at the nursing home. He has the ability to get back and forth between his room and the dining area. He has activities and they keep him entertained. He may never learn to love it, but he must learn that he IS home.
I keep up my visiting schedule. Immediately after each and every snow storm, I’m there. I go before we expect a big snow, then directly after when I can get out of the driveway. I can barely walk on the ice without breaking my neck, but I am there. I have decided that this is what I can do. I can visit. I can talk to him about things happening in the world outside his illness and we can spend some time together without me being stressed to the point of finding some pills that will relax ME.
I’m going to go knit my sock …………..