There are many doctors (and their nurses or assistants) involved in my husband's health care.
An entire team including a nephrologist, technician, RN and dietician at the dialysis clinic.
A palliative care nurse.
Home health nurses who change dressings and check vitals a few times a week.
A paid caregiver provided by the state who helps with some housework, appointments and other errands, and helps Mark get a good shower every week.
Then there's me.
You might say it takes a village.
Despite all of these people who are involved in the care and keeping of one chronically ill man, I still feel all alone in it.
And so scared that I am going to do something wrong. Or not do something I should.
I'm worried all the blessed time. I'm sad or out of sorts so often now that my kids are taking notice. My son always knows, but now even my teenage daughter with ADHD is showing concern.
(I add the fact that she has ADHD to illustrate the enormity of her paying attention to her mother's moods. Add the fact that she's a teen, whom we all know thinks the world revolves around them.)
Anyway, the buck stops with me, and the weight of that responsibility is affecting me negatively. I've had some back pain my entire adult life (who doesn't, right?), but it's getting worse now. And like I already mentioned, my moods and attitude are pretty crappy.
I fear I might become depressed. Some days, like today, I want to just sit on the couch doing absolutely nothing. In this moment, I do not care about my house, needing to go to the grocery store and pharmacy, that my kids will want something for dinner tonight, or even really about this blog post.
My circle of those I've been able to confide in seems to be dwindling....
I just feel alone.