It has now been almost 3 months since my husband Nicks double bypass surgery. The doctors all say that the recovery process is lengthy, even more so for a diabetic, and that it may be 6 months to a year before he feels energetic and active and fully “well” again. His numbers are great, as far as A1C, weight, blood pressure, all the things they continously look at post-surgery. He is doing very well in that sense, which Im so happy about. Where he is struggling is with pain and discomfort, and it is mostly due to the antiquated and ridiculous health care systems in this country, which is a whole other post for a whole other time and I dont want to get too into the details of all that in here, because some might consider that too “political” or whatever. But the fact is, my husband was supposed to begin cardiac rehab about 6 weeks after his surgery. Now, here we are at month 3, and no rehab has started yet. It has been delayed multiple times for various reasons, and setting it up in the first place has been extremely frustrating. Its not offered at the hospital where he had his surgery, which is just dumb. And the closest place it IS offered that the V.A. will cover expenses for is a good 30 minutes away, my husband doesnt drive currently, and I work full-time so I cant get him there. He is supposed to get himself to this hospital that is a half hour away, at 7am in the morning, two times per week, and yet NOBODY has offered any kind of suggestion on HOW we are supposed to do that. The shuttle buses he normally uses for medical appointments “dont go that far out” , and asking a freind for a favor to drive you somewhere once is one thing, but asking for a ride 2x per week at 7am in the morning on a weekday, for 12 weeks straight, is a whole other thing. Uber would be insanely expensive, and its also hard getting one out here in nowhere land where we live. This whole process has been so frustrating. Finally, it will begin tomorrow (if it doesnt Im going to probably have a massive panic episode and that wont be good for anyone.), and rides have finally been put in place, because my husband is very good at advocating for himself and figuring out a way to get the things he needs. However, the damage has already been done.
Because his rehab has been put on hold so many times and getting there has been an issue, its really beginning to affect his health. Because the area where he was cut open like a library book is still healing and hasnt had the rehab that is necessary at this point for it to heal properly, he is in a lot of pain, often. It sucks. Its getting him down. And every time I see him wincing in pain or not able to do simple things without shooting weird pings happening in his chest, my trauma starts to rear its ugly head and my brain starts telling me things like: “Dont you dare start to be happy. This isnt over yet. Sure, he got through the surgery. But he could still die any day, and you just never know when it might happen. One of those pings he is feeling might be the one that causes him to collapse and then its all over. Dont you dare start relaxing and thinking that everything is okay. Everything is never okay. Death and sudden loss and total devastation are always just around the corner.”
So then , because my first husband died from a massive heart attack with no symptoms or warning, and because I STILL question to this day “what if there WERE signs, and I just didnt pick up on them? What if him being tired or taking TUMS all the time were SIGNS? Not that he was working a lot and was just exhausted, but that something was wrong with HIS HEART??!!” – every time Nick grabs a TUMS or grabs his chest area in pain or makes a statement like: “I just dont feel good today”, my trauma brain goes into overdrive, and I start becoming extra ON ALERT, i.e. annoying. “Maybe its time that we call that 24 hour hotline they gave you? Maybe we should go to the ER? This seems like a lot of pain for 3 months after surgery.” And even though he HAS called the hotline and he HAS spoken to his doctors about it, and has been assured that the pain is NOT in his heart but the surrounding areas that are pulling and sticking and mending and havent had proper stretching and rehab so the discomfort is worse than normal, its still not enough for me. I still walk around in a panic that he wont be okay, that life as we know it can still all be taken away at any time, and that I need to be on guard. I start prepping inside my mind for all the things that need to be done, should I find myself suddenly widowed again. I start going forward in my thoughts and thinking about how will I tell his sisters, how will I get through the day or the week, and will I still want to become a grief counselor, or just run away from anything death-related forever and ever, and live on a private island somewhere and go off the grid and never be found again? Sometimes I just want to run away from all the upcoming death and grief that is going to happen, and keep happening, even though logically I know that I need to stay in my life and face all of it, forever.
But holy shit – life can really mess with you, and give you such anxiety about all the things that might happen or will happen. Its incredibly hard at times to just calm the hell down, and live inside the moments, without projecting or assuming or allowing my trauma to dictate how my thoughts are shaped.
Im working on it. Always. Forever.
Loving humans is hard.