Thursday, 13 June 2013

Dear Alex, Shedding some light.

13th June 2013

Dear Alex,

Shaking, I pull the car up at the Care Home. I don't know why I am so worried, I suppose it's a physical reaction manifesting itself from the past several weeks.

Accounts of how you have been over the last 5 weeks are given, dates, timings, events and I wonder how our life ever descended into this. Life of doctors, specialists, treatments, hoping, disappointment, perseverance, endurance and intrusion.

How can it be that we sit here discussing your behaviour, your medication, the best plan of action?

It's so overwhelming I have to place my hand on my heart in an attempt to prevent it searing through my throat.

I try and take the positives from today. The neurologist spends a long while listening, writing and offers his observations, he was patient, clear and thorough. Explaining clearly the build up to your coming home was unstable, finally being at home and being more aware, normal things you used to do, the way you used to be sunk in. You couldn't cope with your situation and the circumstances, being at home and hearing your kids, but not being able to do anything or even see them meant you spiralled into a deep depression, anxiety levels through the roof and this you fought day and night with your cries and aggression. Nothing could calm you as you had not the memory to retain things, like I would be back were I not there, nor what was happening. You became confused and with the brain injury and the damage still so present and foreboding, you just could not cope.

He has said you should stay in the Care Home, not unsettling you at all, no home visits, so that you stabilise. That everything you understand, your environment stays the same.

So no more home for you for a long while.

At least I know this will not last forever and at least I know why this change in you came about.

Although I try and stifle the questions:

Does this mean you will never be able to live with us?

Will we never be a complete family again, all living under one roof?

What if... What if... What if...?

And what if? Alex, how will I continue to deal with all this heartache?

I'm tired, so tired of my heart aching, of it aching for you, for me, for those souls of love of ours, all four of them.

I'm tired of not knowing where we may or may not get to.

Tired of having to deal with a life so different, full of joy at simplicities, and anguish at simplicities we are unable to achieve.

Tonight I try to focus on the slightly more positive side of what the neurologist said.

I can't deal with anything else.

There's no point in thinking of the 'what ifs' I know, but they wait like hounds at the door waiting to strike...

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wednesday, 12 June 2013

Dear Alex, Today...

12 th June 2013

Dear Alex,

We wake, the kids and I, the alarm startles me after a night of tossing and turning with nightmares and cold sweats.

I want the world to stop.

Breakfast complete, four kids dressed and ready for the school run. I stay in and help out in Esmie's class for an hour before putting my foot down and getting to you. You call after requesting the carer ring me on repeat since you woke. I tell you I am nearly there...

When I arrive you have astonishingly calmed down. You seem extremely tired, your voice croaky from crying for the hours since you woke. Three hours they inform me.

But whilst I am there I get through, we talk and I find Alex, the Alex from before this period of time began. Eventually after I give you a massage and you get I get you into bed you are still calm, peaceful almost lying there and tiredness washes over me. I lean over and kiss your almost sleeping head.

'I'm going to pick up the kids now, I'm back as soon as I can be in in the morning'

'Ok,' you say drowsily, a soft smile on your lips.

'See you tomorrow, I love you, will you marry me and have my children?'

'What more kids?' I ask laughing, you smile a big smile, eyes closed


'We'll discuss it again tomorrow ok?!'

And I leave satisfied.

I drive back for the school run, getting flashed for speeding on my return. Not hugely speeding, 3 miles over the 40 mph limit, but I know I am done.

I have 20 minutes before school pickup and prepare the picnic tea for the kids.

We get home at 3.40 and are back out within 10 minutes for Lola's dance class. Popping into town whilst we wait for her with the others I get milk.

Then the 3 big kids have St John's ambulance training. On returning to the house, a tidy up, time doing puzzles, a bath and reading with Esmie. Picking up again and arriving home at just before 8.

They're in bed, in their sleeping bags camping on the floor in my bedroom that sleeps us all.

Calling the care home I hear you are asleep finally, finally after 6 phone calls to me from the care, again at your insistence and me unable to calm you via the phone.

Washing and dishwasher and putting clothes away, a final tidy and I crash.

A lavender tea to hand, pillow doused in lavender oil I hope to sleep better tonight...

I relaxed a while with you today as you were calm, I thought to myself 'is this it? Is this all over? Have you finally come through this time?'

Only to be called so many times with you unable to talk, too distressed.

Back to where we have been for 6 long and lonely weeks now...

And I want the world to shut tonight.

Just for one night.

But I know I have to keep on doing this, hoping we are not here forever...

I'm back in for a crisis meeting about you tomorrow, where the neurologist, nurse, carers, we all shall be present in the hope someone can shed some light.. That somehow, someone can do something.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sunday, 9 June 2013

Dear Alex, Hedgehog, an unexpected tale...

10th June 2013

Dear Alex,

Wandering around Tiggywinks, an animal hospital where they look after mainly hedgehogs, red kites, badgers and most wild animals that have been injured, I try hard to quash anxieties, rampant and harsh, and be there, strong and present for our kids.

Their innocence, their questions, their naive pleasure at seeing the varying animals is my breath for an overcast Sunday after a hard, hard week. I try not to notice the boy on his father's shoulders clinging to a dad proud and dependently, families holding hands, a couple who have come on a day out. I try and be.

Just be.

I've been sent buoyancy aids, the Most High hearing and responding to my cries with a very best friend coming to stay for the weekend. With flowers from another friend on my doorstep as I arrive back from another turbulent time with you. With messages and thoughts/ prayers sent to hold me and the family in these times...

The guide at Tiggywinks gives a talk (on this occasion), handling the damaged, disabled hedgehogs and a tortoise who have been nursed back to health. A hedgehog appears at his feet,

'Oh, this one has recently been brought to us, he is blind'

Lola pipes up

'How come he is blind, what happened?'

'This is a very special hedgehog, no one expected it to survive, it had a severe head injury, it is now brain damaged, with a paralysed leg and blind too as a result of the accident it had, funny thing is though, it will no doubt outlive any other hedgehog out in the wild, as it is being cared for and is safer than those in the wild'

Take from this what you will, but the day we choose to go, this new addition had finally been placed back outside, the injuries the same as yours to the most part...

I know it is a hedgehog, and no, it hasn't been injured playing rugby! But it felt like a message... A message for us. I wipe my tears, this had to be about the kids and a happy day, but goosebumps and hairs rise.

I feel you will pass through this, that you are protected, and beyond this life, that is what this life is for...

It was a moment of random coincidence.

I don't know when this phase will pass, I can't sleep now knowing tomorrow I will have to survive the day again.

As you are at the moment, no one will know what it is like to be you in this, no one will know what it is like to be there, unable to console, distract. No one will know what it is like for the kids or for me...

I just have to brace myself.

That's all I know.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thought for the Day...#14