Good evening everyone and Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, or whichever persuasion you may prefer. I hope everyone's holiday has been as wonderful as mine.
We've gone out of our way to make it as stress free as possible, it's the first time in nearly 40 years we haven't traveled, and it's made a world of difference for me and my confusion. We also limited the size of the gatherings we attended or of those we invited to our home and this was a wondrous help as well.
Over the past couple of months I've noticed that by 3 or 4 in the afternoon I'm done. The fog is getting dense, sleepiness is falling upon my eyelids heavily, and I find it very difficult to lift my feet high enough off the ground to avoid tripping over a throw rug. I'm just useless after that point. And, needless to say, the holiday season has been no different.
But I did come to a realization during Christmas lunch yesterday. I felt like i was almost literally living the description I have always heard of the patient who was awake on the operating table but unable to move or tell anyone they were alert. It was the strangest of feelings. As my environment faded from me and those around me became more and more a vision through a Vaseline smeared screen, extremely vague, I realized "I" was still in there and processing. But, I had no way of letting those around me know what was going on, how I felt, or that I still had internal responses even though I could not find a way to express them effectively to those around me.
It was extremely difficult to describe effectively afterward, and I'm not completely sure I ever did but hopefully this description will help the caregivers out there to persevere, not get discouraged and give up on communication with your loved one/patient, because there is a good chance they might still be in there, just craving a little interaction, even if they can't overtly reciprocate.
Hang in there guys and Happy New Year!
Randy
