About a month ago, we went for what now qualifies as a "walk" downtown. For the first time, I noticed that he was shuffling his feet a bit, not quite lifting them off the sidewalk. The sound is unmistakable. He hasn't been wearing his signature Western boots, because it's become too difficult for me to pull them off his resistant feet. But he was wearing them that day, so naturally I assumed he wasn't picking up his feet because he wasn't used to the boots any more.
The next day, off we went for another "walk." He was wearing comfortable walking shoes, but his gait was very slow...two steps to my one very slow, very short, sauntering step...and he was shuffling again. My heart sank.
I used to have to hurry along in order to keep up with his normal walking stride. And now he's walking like a little old man, huffing and puffing, barely lifting his feet. Not always. But usually.
Each one of these little traumatic moments is a double whammy for me. I'm reminded of my mom taking care of my dad, of my dad shuffling his feet, of his slow descent into oblivion. So I'm even more aware of my husband's decline. And I know there is no light at the end of this very long tunnel.
It's heartbreaking. And maddening.
So sorry to hear this, friend. I know you know you are not alone in this journey, in several ways. I don't know that there is much comfort in that realization, but I appreciate your strength, your tenacity, and your candor in sharing these things. You have been a real help to me. Take care, and may God continue to heal your brokenness.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Michael! If my writing can bring encouragement or enlightenment or a shoulder to cry on to anyone, that's all I can hope for. To be a blessing. Kudos to you and your wonderful wife as you embark on a new adventure, a new chapter. Very excited for you!
DeleteWe also are beginning a new chapter in a different way. Even with oxygen, my husband's breathing is sometimes a moan, and any exertion forces him to sit to recover. Until the weather gets warmer, he is stuck in the house with jigsaw puzzles, computer games and television. The painting he started a month ago sits unfinished and the memoir he was writing is the same. Doctors see him more frequently but there are no cures for severe COPD. This too is hard.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry! I knew he had been having some health challenges, but somehow I didn't realize it was COPD. My heart goes out to you both. I know it is hard for him to go through this suffering, and it's difficult for you to witness it. Hugs to you. I hope the weather cooperates so you can both leave the house for more pleasant outings than doctor visits!
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