And It’s Still Alright….

    It was Christmas day when the wheels finally came off. By that time, I had already been through the surgery to put in my catheter for peritoneal dialysis.  I was scheduled to start dialysis training the next day. I was so tired and to be honest, I was scared. 

    It is hard to explain the extreme fatigue to someone who has never experienced it. I was on FMLA from work. I couldn’t get off the couch for long. The nausea came in waves and came daily. Everything was hard. I knew in my heart that if things did not get better, I would end things on my terms. I had that conversation with my person. I was okay with that. 

    The thing is, I don’t think she was okay with it. In retrospect, it is much easier to see. There was this person who was watching their person slowly give up on life before their eyes. This person had fought so hard to keep their person alive. They had put them on ambulances, made four a.m. emergency runs, and slept for weeks on end in hospital rooms. I can honestly say she saved my life more than once.   

    I can only speak with any semblance of authority on my experiences as the sick one, not those of the watcher, partner or caretaker. I do believe they are both extremely difficult. Maybe being ill is easier. You get to focus on you, the pain and the sickness. You can lean on your person if you have one. But who do they get to turn to?

    I guess I am a stubborn, Southern man. I shut most everyone out and just stayed home. Before the illness came, I loved to be around people. I had been a bartender for years and loved working around people. I was embarrassed about my condition. I was tired of answering the same questions. I hated the pain. I just didn’t want to talk about it. I did not know the impact this would have on my partner or my relationship.

    I am by no means giving a complete pass to her for the failure of our relationship. There were many issues on both sides. But I do accept culpability for my own actions, and I think I do understand hers a little more with distance and reflection. But at the time, when the arguments and actions became too much, we did what we thought we had to do, and I packed up and headed out. 

    It was a mess, and I don’t either of us were okay. I am certainly not proud of that time or who I was then. Somehow, I was able to do my training driving in from an hour and a half away daily. My transplant team ended up putting me on a hold because my care team had essentially collapsed. While I was lucky enough to have family to help me, the team needed to evaluate that I was okay and put me on a six-month psychiatric evaluation hat included therapist and psychiatrist visits.  I was not pleased to say the least. 

    The reality is it was beyond beneficial to me. I was able to find both a therapist and psychiatrist that did telehealth and although I reluctantly attended my appointments, I started to look forward to them. It was good to have a neutral party as a sounding board. Not knocking having friends to talk to – it’s just that not many friends are willing to call you on your bullshit. They do generally take your side.  Maybe it is a good idea to have both. 

    Would my relationship have went differently if I had started therapy sooner? I honestly don’t know. I wish I would have tried and found out. I would advocate that anyone facing chronic illness or depression to talk to a professional. I would advocate the same for their partners or caretakers. It can seem a bit scary, but I promise it is not as bad as an unchecked outcome from ignoring symptoms. Your insurance will most likely cover it. and the copay is worth it.

     When the wheels completely fell off, I did not think it would ever be alright. But self-care and talking to someone helped me to see from different viewpoints. I learned that it was, in fact, okay. I was able to let go of my ego a bit and remember the good in situations and understand that even though you cannot change an outcome you can look back fondly at the positive experiences that you shared. Learn from the bad and remember the good. Don’t be scared to talk about it. Help yourself because you might be the only one who will. It will be alright. 

Now, close your eyes and spin around. Say hard times you could find it. Ain’t the way you want it – But it’s still alright. – Nathaniel Rateliff “Ans It’s Still Alright”