When a Caregiver Needs Care

 

In an instant my reality became a surreal, dreamlike, out-of-body experience of life moving in slow motion. It was the day I thought I'd lost my husband, forever.

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"Whoa, is that your new car?" I gushed to coworker Tim Holbrook when I saw him drive up in a blue, 1974 Mercedes 450SL convertible.  
 

Tim was tall and slender and carried a swagger from his former life. Years ago, he worked at a recording studio alongside major artists in the music industry.

"It's my 50th birthday and I decided to splurge. You're only 50 once, right?"

Noticing droll oozing from my mouth, Tim smiled and asked, "You want to take her for a drive?" 

"Can I!? Really!?"

 

 

"Sure! Here's the keys, hop in and drive her around town. I don't mind," he said.

I didn't hesitate. I ran my fingers across the soft leather seats with its cool burl-wood accents. I was in heaven.

I decided to cruise over and surprise Tom. He and Brian Roberts were doing some external repair work on a nearby church. Brian was perched high on a ladder while Tom held it steady below. I drove the convertible over to where they were working, honked the horn, and gave an ostentatious wave and teased, "Hey Honey, look what I just bought!"

As Tom walked towards the Mercedes, I noticed his face was pale and his brow was covered in perspiration.

"Beth, you need to call a doctor. I've been after him all day. He's not doing well!" Brian said as he jumped off the last rung of the ladder.

"Tom, I'm calling the doctor now, you're going to see him today!" I informed him. 

I quickly delivered the convertible back to Tim and called the doctor's office. I begged the nurse for an appointment that day. Hearing the urgency in my voice, she arranged one for that afternoon.

 

 

Dr. Warren examined Tom. He listened to his heart, took his blood pressure, and conducted an EKG. After reading the results, Dr. Warren looked at me earnestly and said, "Either you drive him to the emergency room, or I'm calling an ambulance. He's in atrial fibrillation, his blood pressure is off the chart; even worse, he could have a heart attack any minute. In the meantime, I'll try and arrange for a heart specialist to meet you there."

Our home was on the way to the hospital. Tom insisted we run home long enough to pack him a small suitcase and to collect his shaving kit. I grabbed some personal items for myself, too,

The next several days felt like a bad dream.

Thankfully, between loving friends and family members, our granddaughters were well taken care of.  

A stream of concerned white coats wearing stethoscopes filed in and out of Tom’s room. Then, a very young physician determined Tom needed triple bypass surgery. It was devastating news.

Thanks to medication Tom slept soundly that first night. However I laid anxiously on a nearby sofa and listened to the beep beep beep of his heart monitor.

In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul. Psalm 94:19

Early the following morning, another heart specialist decided a triple bypass wasn’t necessary after all. Although we were elated and thanked God at the news, Tom wasn’t out of the woods yet.

As it turned out, Tom had been living with several walking time-bombs. He was diagnosed and treated for atrial fibrillation, a blood clot behind his heart, blockages in his arteries that required two heart cauterizations, and extremely high blood pressure.   

It was only by the Grace of God that he’s alive today!

 

 

We felt incredibly blessed as friends and family poured into Tom’s little hospital room bearing cards, flowers, goodie bags, and most of all their love and prayers. Our oldest daughter, Tish, stayed with us during the day, and took care of granddaughters Grace and Bella most nights while our son, Thomas, held down the landscaping business.

On the eighth day Tom, stir-crazy and ready to go home, was released. He was sent home with orders to rest, a plethora of medications and a strict diet. No more Big Macs.

It’s been two years since Tom’s heart episode. He’s still on medication for the atrial fibrillation (A-Fib) and high blood pressure, but he’s doing great. He works hard and plays even harder. During the week he runs a landscaping business and on the weekends, with at least one granddaughter by his side, he’s surf fishing.

It’s important as caregivers to make sure we are taking care of ourselves. Others depend on us.

Tell me, are you taking care of yourself?

Who’s depending on you?

 

 -Beth

  

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