Seeing Clearly

I wouldn’t say the rain is gone, but the worst of the storm is over.  Sure there are still rumblings of thunder, but things are much more reasonable than they used to be.

After 5 surgeries, my mother is walking in shoes (albeit diabetic shoes and with a cane), but the fact remains that she is WALKING.  No more nursing homes or wheelchairs.

Last fall, when an orthopedic surgeon urged us to have her leg amputated below the knee or else face her certain death within three months (from the raging infection in her foot and leg), I felt like we had run out of options.  Around that time, I sat in my Podiatrist’s office who was urging ME to get surgery on a bunion.  I explained (not so tactfully) why the prospect of 6 weeks off my feet wasn’t going to work by showing him a cell phone picture of my mother’s foot, gaping open wound and all.  “I can’t have surgery right now because I’m dealing with THIS” I said, as I thrust the phone in his face.  Totally unfazed, the Doctor looked up at me and replied “I can save that foot.  Bring her in.” 

And I did bring her in…every week for 8 months for x-rays and unwrapping and re-wrapping and follow-up x-rays.  And it worked.  It all worked.  He saved her foot, re-built it during a 13-hour surgery, returned her mobility to her and was patient and caring along the way.  God bless Podiatrists.

Just about the time it seemed we were turning the corner on her foot, my mother let me know she had something she needed to tell me one morning.  “I have bugs in my eyes”, she said.  “And sometimes, they fly out”.  Having heard about “floaters” before, I figured this had something to do with her diabetes and took her to the ER.  After they initially treated her as a mental health case – the part where the nurse asked her if the bugs were talking to her was especially humorous - she was diagnosed with severe diabetic retinopathy and hemorrhages in both eyes that needed surgery.  One surgery was a simple laser procedure where the blood and weak vessels were zapped.  That was followed by a more extensive vitrectomy which included cutting into her eye ball in three different spots and draining out blood.  Both surgeries were extremely successful.  The day after each surgery, her sight in the eye operated on improved dramatically.

She still needs cataract surgery on both eyes, but the doctors asked her to wait until summer was over for that to give her eyes time to rest and heal.  And that’s when it happened again.  She woke up one morning with a new hemorrhage and then proceeded to develop one in the other eye.  So now we wait.  Surgeons don’t like to operate on these too quickly. They like to wait a couple weeks and see if the blood will dissipate on its own.  We go back to see the surgeon again next week and then hopefully, we will have a plan moving forward.

So this is where I find myself.  Two steps forward, one step back.  Just about the time I feel like we’re getting somewhere, we have a setback.  And what I have come to realize about all of this is that it’s never going to be perfect.  I don’t think we’re ever going to get her to a point of excellent health.  Issues will continue to come up, and we will continue to have to deal with them.  But letting go of the expectation that somehow this will all result in a completely healed, completely independent person has helped me to see this situation for what it is.  I’m better able to accept the new parameters of my life when I can see what the outer edge of reality looks like – where the boundaries are. 

 Stepping back to look at the big picture helps me to digest the everyday difficulties that come with taking care of a parent and my own family at the same time.  The doing is not hard…it’s the feeling and the thinking.  It’s the conversation you’re having with yourself in your head WHILE you’re “doing” that can really mess you up.  It’s the emotional connection you have to this person.  It’s the fact that they can do something or say something that would seem completely innocuous to someone else but that makes you crazy because it brings up something from 20 years ago in your mind that you connect it to.

On the flip side, it’s the connection that can make the really difficult moments more bearable.  If you can find a way to laugh at the tragedy of it all or the moments of sheer ridiculousness, it helps to ease the tension.  And having a shared history helps you to draw on the past for comic relief, particularly if you’re sitting in your third doctor’s waiting room of the week.

It’s definitely a journey…a journey that has now surpassed a year and will continue for the foreseeable future.  It’s not a journey I thought I needed, but clearly God thought it would be of use to me so HERE I AM.  And that’s something I’ve learned about caring for others…you have to show up.  And show up again and again – every day, no matter if you’re tired or sick or sad or angry.  You have to show up and do what you’re supposed to do and hopefully after a little bit, if you keep showing up, you’re attitude will start to follow your actions.  So I keep showing up, keep doing the things I’m supposed to do and continue to wrestle with myself in my mind.  Some days are easier than others.  While I realize I’ll never fully understand the purpose of all of this until I’m long gone from this earth, I’m doing my best to do the next right thing even when I can’t see the purpose or understand the why of it all.