Saturday, April 19, 2014
We have been on such a roller-coaster this year with regard to home health aides. I can't even count the number of different people who have been in and out of our bedroom, bathroom and kitchen.
Some for just a day.
It's so unnatural to have someone else in your space. But it is necessary, or you just have to do it all yourself, and that's just not sustainable long-term. I've learned that.
But new people, working new or different hours, and taking on different things -- that's my kryptonite.
I've had a heck of a week with this.
At it's worst, it makes me not even want to be in my own home.
Like I don't belong there.
I know that sounds ridiculous. It looks ridiculous when I write it, but I seriously feel that way.
I don't like to be home when they're there. I feel uncomfortable. Like what am I supposed to be doing? I feel guilty. I feel lazy. I feel weird. So, I wait for an "all clear" text from my husband, then I come home.
What's been difficult about this week is that the roles have been muddy. I'm used to them taking care of his personal care needs and I'll take care of the cooking, for example. Well, we have to keep them around longer to give them more hours, so Michael is going to be taking on some of the cooking.
I should be thrilled about this, but here's the problem: they're here in the morning, but they can't come in the evening. So, I have to get him up in the evening. It's not a big deal. It takes like half an hour and doesn't involve much. The problem is, I have no clear role for myself and no clear expectation of the aide. Because they're helping with some of his personal care, and they're doing some cooking. And I'm doing some cooking and some of his personal care.
I feel lost.
Kryptonite got the best of me this week. That one thing won. I lost.
I don't want to go home, even when they're not there.
I don't know how this is going to get better. It's probably not. I'll just have to get used to it. Another new normal.
Want to know the craziest feeling I have? Jealousy. My favorite sin. That someone else gets five waking hours in my house. I'm pretty sure it takes me a few days to get that.
So much about this life isn't fair.
But this one thing really sucks.
What does make it better is space, and coffee, and chocolate, and writing about it.
Labels: Love Hurts