Before I took husband to Physical Therapy yesterday, I decided to drop him off and head over to Dr A's office. I wanted to speak with Dr A in regards to husband's condition. I also wanted to speak to him about husband's insistence that he can still drive, thinks he is fine, and will not listen to me.
The front desk women were very nice as I explained my situation. I waited for about 45 minutes, but, the Dr was just too busy. I didn't get my chance to speak with him privately. It was such a good idea too.
My next best idea is to email him. I have his email address, and, as busy as he is, I am hoping he will read my email before next Wednesday's appointment.
When I take him to the Dr's, the Dr will ask how is he doing, what is he doing and how is his walking. I answer, but husband interrupts, says he is fine, nothing is going on. It's frustrating because husband thinks he can fool the Dr. When we leave, husband is upset, blaming me for everything, says I exaggerate when I talk with the Dr, and on and on.
My request to Dr A is that he put in a request to suspend husband's Drivers License. That way, husband cannot drive, and, I can sell the truck. Both of my biggest issues to date will be taken care of. (A special pat on the back for me, thank you). Now, let's see if I can make it happen.
Living with someone afflicted with any kind of brain malfunction is hard, really hard. It wears you down to a frazzle. Couple that with husband's outright denial and refusal to face the facts, well, it makes me question how can I get through this. All day, everyday is a real struggle for me as well. When I go to him to help him, he pushes me away. When I don't offer to help, he says why didn't I offer to help? At the end of the day, I am worn out, not from just physical activity, it's the mental tear down I experience daily.
As he "walks" through the house, he holds onto everything, otherwise, he will fall flat on his face. When I mention using the walker in the house, he says he's fine, just a little stiff and sore, does not need a walker to aid in his walking. And so it goes.
Going back to work would be a relief to me. I could get away from all of this, escape. But, on the flip side, I feel guilty for feeling this way. I am constantly thinking of ways to help him, and, constantly thinking of ways to escape him.
I don't remember signing up for this. Someone must've volunteered me, thinking I could do this. Well, today is one of those days when I don't think I can.
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