The orthopedic office was busy but inside the treatment room, it was pretty quiet. “In 99% of these kinds of breaks, we put on a cast and they heal up on their own.”  I was momentarily elated.  Then he turned to YA and said “Unfortunately, you are in the 1%.”  Surgery is scheduled for Tuesday.

She is in better shape than a week ago, but both ankles are still quite swollen, sore and hideously discolored, so for the most part she is hanging out on her bed, using my studio chair to roll herself down the hall to the bathroom and back. For the two doctor appointments this week, she literally had to scoot down the stairs on her backside and then use the crutches to get to the car.  This takes quite a while.

Even if she gets downstairs, she’s not stable enough on the crutches to do anything, so all meals are being prepared by me. I’m doing all dog and cat duty as well as YA’s other chores (vacuuming, garbage/recycling, poop patrol in the yard, mopping) as well as her laundry and, it goes without saying at our house, her dishes.  In addition, because her dog (Guinevere) has a teeny tiny bladder, I’ve been going home over lunch every day to let the dogs out.  I’m also the go-to for discussions of workers’ comp, insurance, appointments, etc. None of this is physically taxing work but I’m tired anyway.  When the alarm went off this morning, only the knowledge that my alarm clock is a fancy-dancy expensive thing kept me from sweeping it off the nightstand!

My kudos and admiration to everyone who has ever had an extended period of care-giving. Real heroes in my book.

Have you ever had to be a care-giver? Been the care-give?