I found myself in a strange predicament when my Dad returned home. I was happy to see that he felt good. In fact, he was one happy customer. You wouldn’t have even known he’d spent five days in the hospital. He felt better than he had for two months.
I, on the hand, felt like someone had run me over with a steam roller. I was tired, cranky, and unable to deal with life. I kept it together, but I didn’t want to.
Since I live with my Dad, I had 24 hour duty. He didn’t need alot of help, but I still had to deal with doctors, the medical supply company, making sure he took the right drugs and the right time, and so forth.
Not only was I exhausted but my Dad was on Prednisone. It was making him talking incessantly. I’m not even sure he breathed for the first three days because he didn’t stop chatting. He was like a kid. He’d start in five minutes after I sat down to eat my breakfast and didn’t stop until I went to the bathroom
I was incredibly relieved over the next three days when family members came to check up on him. I was able to play with my nieces, while my brother and sister in law heard the hospital stories twice. I was able to phase out when my sister and brother in law came by. I was able to leave the room when our neighbor showed up.
It really helped me get through the rough part. That first week was really trying. We had a new routine to go through and new worries. I’m not ashamed to say that having people come over to sit with my Dad so I could shut my brain off was just what I needed!