It’s a general thing most of the time. We have a limited time here, doing what we do. I can handle that…

What I’m currently dealing with is not my own mortality, but that of my wifes. She has congestive heart failure and schizophrenia (among plenty of other issues). She doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with her as her body slowly fills with excess water that’s literally currently accumulating in her lungs because it’s filled every other point up to that height. She has a constant cough to clear her airway and can barely stand as her feet are so full of fluids that it hurts to do anything other than lay down. She’s been to the hospital for this before, was given all the warnings, life changes, and general rules to literally live by. She decided not to adopt any of those changes. I’ve done all I can reasonably do as I sit here listening to her pain and suffering. There is nothing I can change on her deathmarch other than some vague level of comfort. How is anyone meant to deal with this? I’ve attempted to compartmentalize it as much as I can to section off those feelings, compared it to a train wreck is slow motion. I can see all the moving parts, but realistically I can’t effect change that would do any lasting good. I feel lost.

Worst update imaginable. She’s had not one, but two strokes. The first one knocked out her right side mobility, the second might have impacted her ability to speak and seems to have given her some level of aphasia. I won’t know her new baseline until she’s able to breathe on her own, but the bare minimum at this stage is looking like nearly full time care needed for the rest of her life. The doctors found a third heart clot that’s threatening to make things even worse.

It’s been about a week since the last update. She’s gotten somewhat better. She can not use her right side much and has a lot of trouble coming up with the words she wants to use for anything. The hospital is talking about sending her to rehab. It’s going too fast, but this is the american health system. Built to barely work and keep things moving… and they’re doing a stellar job on keeping things moving. At this point the realization of what my life is going to look like in around a month hit me very suddenly tonight when she was completely unable to express anything meaningful in the two short hours I can visit her after work. If everything works out well, I can get the help I’m definitely going to need when she comes home. Sadly, I feel like they’re going to force a bare minimum in rehab and just push her out into the world again, before I’ve had a chance to do anything meaningful to prepare for her needs. I’m expecting to have a very bad time.

Three strokes in and things seem to somehow be holding steady. This was the first day I’ve had away from everything to just sit and enjoy a bit of my own life in awhile, only to be interrupted by people who cannot think their way out of a wet paper bag. I get that the glucose monitor beeps sometimes… when the persons blood sugar is either stressingly high, or dangerously low. Having to explain why it should not be “shut off” overnight so it doesn’t disturb anyones sleep was not the conversation I was expecting to have, and at this point I’m a bundle of highly stressed and coiled steel… I’m ready to snap at the slightest pressure. Is it wrong to be thankful to be going back to work so I can have a solid 8 hours of relative normality in my daily routine? That’s how I feel about it.

For now the game of life is “look at this person every day and see if their levels of broken are higher or lower than they were the day before”. That’s about the only way we’re going to know if there has been yet another stroke.