Sometimes, we get fixed to certain ideas. For me, one of those is the idea that I am the poorly one. The one that needs to be cared for at times. And that my husband to be, Adam, is the one who cares for me. He is my supporter.
But what happens when the person you rely on becomes vulnerable? The one person you thought could never be? Well, I experienced this just last week, when Adam was admitted to hospital with appendicitis.
So, for my March blog, I decided to write about something a little bit different, that is my experience on the other side of it all- supporting my supporter.
Adam and I have been together for over 10 years now but up until my hospital admission in November 2019, I don’t think he had ever seen my illness truly take hold of me. Until then, especially in our early years, I had always done well at hiding my bowel-related symptoms from our relationship. And it stayed that way until very recently, when my bowel perforated and I couldn’t physically hide it anymore. Despite that, he knew when I was having a bad day and he was always there, ready to help me with whatever I needed or to take the brunt of the house work. Many a time he has carried me through to a deadline I was convinced I couldn’t make. Kept me positive when I’d lost hope. Encouraged me to rest, even when I didn’t know I needed it.
When you have a chronic illness, you get into this mindset of you being the person that needs help. And of your person, whoever that might be, being there for you all of the time. To help pick you up when you’ve fallen down. This really embedded for me when I faced my biggest flare and my stoma surgery. Adam was with me 24 hours a day, managing my pain relief, lifting me out of bed, helping me wash, helping me go to the toilet. Helping me with EVERYTHING. Not just the physical stuff. But all the trauma that came with it too. At first, I was reluctant to rely on him for all of these things. But over time, you realise you don’t have a choice. And you slowly become used to the idea. Although, that’s not the same as taking it for granted. I have never taken Adam or his love for me for granted.
Around a week ago, Adam mentioned to me that he had been up in the night with pain in his stomach. He never complains of pain or feeling unwell, so I thought that was odd. Deep down of course I hoped it would just go away and that would be the end of it. Not for one second did I think he would end up in hospital needing emergency surgery. But that is exactly what happened.
The most I could do to help was pack him a few bits and drive him to the surgical assessment unit. I wasn’t allowed into the hospital because of the pandemic. So, I helplessly drove home and I waited. Later that day, he told me that he had confirmed appendicitis and he would be kept in for emergency surgery. I felt so lost. Helpless. And sorry for him. And I didn’t know where to begin supporting him after everything he had done for me. Cue me sending him lots of pics of me and the girls…
The hardest part was not being able to visit, especially the day of and the day after his surgery. He had been waiting to go to theatre for a couple of days and I was feeling really nervous for him. I found myself googling what could go wrong with an appendicectomy, what the recovery should be like, when he would come home. The reality was, there was absolutely nothing I could do to help. So, I packed him another bag and I waited for news.
When Adam was taken down for surgery, I did my best to distract myself. I found cooking helped. As did working a bit later, going for a longer walk and catching up with close friends on the phone. I am such a worrier and always have been, so worry still took hold once I had run out of things to distract myself. I rang the hospital ward to see if he was out 3 hours after he went in, he wasn’t. So then I started googling again. How long does an appendicectomy take? Texting one of my closest friends who is a nurse, was this normal?
I was SO relieved when he text me to say he was out. And he was ok. Thank goodness! I wished so much that I could be there for him when he came out. That I could be there on the ward waiting for him, as he had been waiting for me. He kept reminding me that his surgery wasn’t as serious as mine but that didn’t help. I still wanted to be close to him, to support him. Cue more pics of me and the girls…
Adam recovered really well and a couple of days later, I went to hospital to bring him home. I was SO relieved to have him back. So that I could finally be there for him as he had been for me. I said to him on our way home how strange it was that we can now relate to what each other has been through. Now we have almost matching scars.
Now I know what it is like for somebody you love to need emergency surgery. To see them at their most vulnerable and entirely reliant on somebody else to save them. Now I know what it is like to care for somebody you love after surgery. To watch somebody you love in pain. I always appreciated what Adam did for me and I always will. But seeing him go through what he went through this week and last, I have an even deeper respect for everything he did for me. Through it all, he kept strong and steady and led me through my long recovery.
Thankfully for us, Adam continues to recover and while he does, I will be there. All is right with the world again now that he is home with me and our girls.
Love Me
& My Friend Wendy.
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