Before I left the hospital I joked with one of the nurses about the intimate things I was threatening to put on the Caring Bridge task page, but it was whistling past the graveyard as I was FLAT OUT TERRIFIED.
Once I was home, faced with the reality of what life may be like with so much exhaustion layering every aspect of my life, that little ‘wipe me’ joke wasn’t funny at all.
On the day I returned from the hospital I could barely make it up the stairs into my house. “I need to get a cane.” was all I could say to Gerry. I’d already lost so much energy that my goal was simply to walk up the stairs to use the bathroom. And I didn’t make it.
And it’s only going to get harder.
And I am terrified.
And I hate our stair carpeting.