September 12, 2022
Our reality series continued as Jeff healed from his neck surgery with me as a caregiver with one arm that wore a wrist brace. The added complication with auto insurance, our different healthcare insurances, buying a new car with our injuries, traveling back and forth from Boston, prosthetic fittings, physical therapy, attorneys…Endless. We were grateful we weren’t working or raising young kids. It was enormous stress, testing us individually and our relationship. The first 5 weeks of his healing were challenging with a five-pound weight restriction. The neck brace reminded him to keep it correctly aligned, but it was cumbersome to wear.
Too many moments to share. I will share a couple. I had a hair appointment, hoping it would lift my mood. I joked with Jeff I might get a pink feather of color to spice up my life. His go-to statement when uncertain about how to respond. Is, sweetheart, I will love you whatever you decide. I was telling the hairstylist what I said. She excitedly said you should! Before my amputation, my hair was long. I wore it in a ponytail most of the time. I would get a salon trim once a year, never colored. So, she did her thing. You will be shocked by the picture of my final color. Again, Jeff embraced it even though it was horrible. We could only laugh. He nicknamed me cotton candy. The next day I went back to the salon. She tried to fix it. A few days later. I went to wash it. I now was the gray old lady with a blue-green hue. I couldn’t return to her, so I searched for a color correction stylist. He was in his 80s and supposedly did movie stars back in the day. A sweet man. He turned it strawberry red, not my shade. I was done, but a friend suggested highlights. In less than 2 weeks, I had my hair colored four times. I spent more money on hair than in the first fifty years of my life.
It was November 15, 2021, and I was back in Boston for my wrist surgery.
The procedure cut a section of the ulnar bone to relieve and allow the ligaments to heal and stabilize the wrist. It was outpatient, so we stayed in a hotel to fly home the next day. I was not prepared for the post-surgery healing. A brachial plexus nerve block completely numbed my whole arm for 2 days. It was dead weight, with no control. I had several hilarious circumstances of the efforts without any hands. On the trip home, I was feeling no pain with an amputated arm and now the other a deadweight in a sling. As we were going through security. The young officer asked if I could remove the sling. I said yes, but it would drop. Instead, he called a female officer to pat me down. They were serious about their work but compassionate about my circumstances. So very gently she touched. Of course, I decided to lighten the tension. I screamed; ouch. All three workers and a few travelers were startled, and the female jumped. I laughed and said just kidding. Again, I will leave it to your imagination. It was creative and crazy much of my days.
It was a long healing process. The initial no-weight restriction was for 2 weeks. To a weight, lighter than a pencil with a removable cast for showers and PT stretches. Jeff was a champ with his help, trying to know what and how he addressed my needs. Hell, I had no idea. It was a roller coaster of emotions. It was difficult for my personality to ask for help, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t do anything. The zoom psychologist would listen, never any suggestions. Just sounds of ah, hum or a response like you are handling things well. Keep doing what you are doing. I seriously would have punched someone if I had a hand.
I struggled daily with overwhelming emotions of anxiety and frustration, leading to bouts of crying and anger. I wanted answers as to why I had to endure these adversities. Am I paying for past karma? I was questioning my decision to amputate. I had the best support, but they still thought it was a crazy decision. As a caregiver all my life, I was dependent on Jeff. He was challenged with his post-neck surgery healing and physical therapy. He, too, as a caregiver, struggled with his limitations in helping me.
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