There is no simple way to recover from a heart attack. Impatience makes the waiting, the slow rebuilding almost too much to handle. I hate watching my husband crab about the lack of anything to watch on TV. He doesn’t watch television under normal circumstances. Despite his interest in my writing he doesn’t read books either.
He likes to be busy. He’ll l spend hours shopping for the right tool to finish a job. He’s hop in the truck and visit the lumberyard. Only he can’t right now. I have to drive him and he doesn’t like being chauffeured around. And I don’t enjoy taking him: to the hospital for blood-work or for rehab therapy; To the doctor’s office for check-ups; or for that dragging cough.
So he has pneumonia and has to be admitted again. Only this time he’s awake enough to complain bitterly about the food, the floor, the beds, the other patients. Why can’t they give him medicine and let him stay at home?
I have to admit I gave a sigh of relief. I’m so pooped. If he needs to be on IV antibiotics, then the hospital is the best place. I slept twelve hours that first night and woke with a severe cough. No joke. I called my doctor and made and appointment. I am diagnosed with bronchitis- not quite pneumonia but close enough to scare me silly. I didn’t know that pneumonia is catching, but it is if your defenses are down.
So I take heavy-duty antibiotics. I take cough medicine with codeine to help me sleep and I visit the hospital daily. He gets better faster than I do, but he’s there for five days.
To my horror, a dear friend’s husband dies and I don’t hear the news for days. They are in my prayers.
So my husband is home again. He spends a lot of time on the phone complaining. I don’t even ask who he’s garnering sympathy from. They don’t live with him, pick up his mess, cook or wash. They don’t get his meds arranged so all he has to do is take them.
In another couple days, he’ll go to have his heart checked for permanent damage. Maybe when he has the facts, he’ll be more positive. He doesn’t see the big picture he. He’s alive.
6 thoughts on “Playing catch-up on my promise to share his heart attack with you by Barbara Edwards”
He may be a bit crabby, but he’s here. Take care of you.
Gob bless you both.
Thanks, Danita. Its appreciated.
I can’t imagine what the two of you are going through. I was on an emotional rollercoaster just from reading your post. I can understand why you would be exhausted and frightened, and how difficult an adjustment this must be for both of you.
I’m so thankful he’s healing. Now comes the difficult part adjusting to the changes that healing will bring. Wishing you peace and strength …
Thanks, Mae Clair. Knowing that friends are being supportive is a big help.
I so feel for you in all of your challenges, Barbara. I have heard that people who have heart attacks suffer from depression during the recovery process, which in men can take the form of anger/crackiness. Women are more able to express their emotions and have a good cry, find something to watch on tv or read. I also have a very active hubby who would hate to be kept down, and was for months after a bad farm accident. I well remember how utterly exhausting that was, and I had small children then. Yes, the main thing is that Bill’s alive. In time, he will appreciate that, I hope. And blessings on you. I’m so sorry about your friend’s loss of her husband.
Thnaks, Beth for your supportive words.