I awoke this morning to a disaster. During the night, both Mom and Ray came down with some sort of stomach ailment, suffering the attendant vomiting. On top of that, Mom is suffering from severe diarrhea. When I went into the bathroom this morning, the results of these combined problems were on the walls and floor near the toilet.
My parents had done the best they could to clean up. Unfortunately both of them were, and still are, debilitated by their own physical limitations along with their illness. I cleaned up where I could but the walls and floor behind and beside the toilet were out of my reach. I made a panicked call to Kate and Meaghan to come and help me with the clean up.
Complicating matters, Meaghan is pregnant. The mere thought of this situation was enough to trigger her own stomach issues. This meant Kate took the brunt of the cleaning responsibilities. She marched in, took charge, and cleaned up the mess. It only took her a bit; she is very efficient when sets her mind to it.
Once again I am reminded of how I need help in ways I've not needed it before. The simple act of cleaning behind the toilet is beyond me. I can't reach it from my wheelchair. There are a lot of things like that which limit me now. This morning when my parents were in need of help, I called my own children to take over. They now find themselves in the same sandwich I have lived with for many years; caring for aging and ailing parents while caring for their own children. Only they are starting earlier than me.
Having people around me who can help will become increasingly important to me over the next year. As my condition progresses, I will be calling for help more often. I will need help more often. My concern is that, as I become more and more dependent on their help, my needs will wear out my support system. People will become overloaded with my increasing requests for help. I worry about that a lot, especially as concerns those who are closest to me.
I know they are willing to help; they offer to help, often. I know they understand how reluctant I am to ask for help. I also know that they have lives of their own. I know I am inconvenient. I know it will get worse. That worries me.
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