I would like to ask COPD sufferers a question and I would really appreciate an honest answer.
Do you think that your illness is the be all and end all, and that your illness takes priority over everything and everyone else.
My husband is running me ragged, he bangs on the floor with his walking stick asking for something or another, rings me on the mobile when I go for a shower or to the toilet wanting to know how long I am going to be, I do not have a minute to myself apart from first thing in the morning when I get up, and after seeing to his medical needs, giving him breakfast in bed and taking the dog into the garden I sit for half an hour and have my breakfast. Then I do the housework, I then help him get washed, dressed and carry all his medical stuff down, nebuliser, tablets, etc, carry his oxygen tank whilst he is using it, get him settled, make him a cup of tea then go and make the bed and get myself ready, then the mobile rings, can you come and pat my back, (the physio has shown me what to do but it is like a comfort thing for him). I am up and down the stairs like a yo-yo, I have been up and down today 15 times between 7 am and 11 am, then he gets up
I am 70 years old, 4 years older than my husband and he is killing me slowly, I have no life, he has a wheelchair and walking stick, when he first got them a few months ago it was like 'great, we have got our life back' but no, he is back to his old miserable selfish ways won't use the wheelchair in case someone he knows sees him.
Our central heating has broken down and we have been told we need a new boiler, he won't pay for one so he has now told me to drag out the fan heaters, we have one in every room, it is freezing in the morning when I get up, I am dreading winter. I have to boil a kettle to wash up. Luckily the shower is water heated at source so as least i can get a hot shower. He won't have a carer, I am a prisoner in our home,,he keeps telling me the house is in his name and not mine, which it is. We never go out, when I am doing the garden he sits in the window in his wheelchair tapping on the window and shouting, you have missed a bit. I wish
I just feel like walking out, I sometimes wish he would die and let me have a few years of peace and quiet. I have even wished i could be taken into hospital with a serious illness so they would put him in a home. He is calling me again now so off I go again.
Sorry about all this but I think I hate him.