Elizabeth Beard – You Gotta Run What Ya Brung
Elizabeth Beard has been both a caregiver and a patient…She is a PAD patient and bypass survivor. Every single member of her immediate family with the exception of one brother has passed away from heart disease or arterial disease, and even that brother just experienced a Stemi heart attack and stent procedure.
In the 1969 book "On Death and Dying," written by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, she proposes that there are five stages of grief when we experience the loss of a loved one.
Denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
In my experience as a hospice volunteer I have seen many individuals and families move through these stages; however as an individual with peripheral artery disease (PAD) and the survivor of a bi-femoral aortic bypass three years ago, I can attest that you don't have to be dealing with the loss of a loved one to experience these phases.
The surgery and initial recovery was so unpleasant that I didn't think I would make it through. If not for the love of my husband, I probably wouldn't have. He changed my bed pans...he brushed my hair...he listened to me cry in pain for weeks and months. I still am in awe of how patient he is with me. I'm so unlovable on so many days because of my need to have a pity party every once in a while.
At first everyone is all around you and there for you...but eventually you are alone in your recovery. With the exception of that one person that stands by you and watches helplessly as you move through these stages. You both have to deal with the fear of dying...every weird pain you think this is it - I'm dying. They are afraid too…but they don’t say it because they don’t want to upset you, but I can see it in my husband’s eyes sometimes and I feel bad that he didn’t bargain for this.
I have moved through all of the phases of grief - grieving the life I should have had if I had taken care of myself better. Accepting that because I smoked I probably brought this on myself, and most importantly I am learning to live with the physical limitations that I have now. This is the most difficult and frustrating part of my journey. I cry even now writing about it.
My husband has also moved through these phases. We don’t really talk it much except he told me that before my surgery he heard a song on the radio at work one day and it made him cry because it was about a man losing his wife. He thought I was going to die…but he never told me that until later. I know that his father passed away on the operating table during his second bypass surgery. He didn’t get to say goodbye. I can only imagine what fear he carried with him during those days of waiting for and during my surgery.
We were only married four months when I was diagnosed and underwent surgery. We had to prepare our will…we had to discuss things that most couples don’t face for many years, but he did it. He went to every doctor’s appointment with me. He paid attention and would tell me when we got home things I didn’t even remember the doctor telling me.
I will never ever be able to repay him for the things he did and has done and will do for me. He has a way of facing this situation in a very practical manner. This is the hand we were dealt, and we will deal with it – whatever comes.
If you are someone’s caregiver I hope you never doubt how important you are in our lives. I’m sure I don’t tell my husband enough how much I appreciate him and everything he does for me. He has never let me feel sorry for myself for very long. In fact – he makes me mad on a regular basis by asking me if I have walked today, or making statements like “portion control” when we are eating. I have wanted to punch him a few times. Ha! It’s hard for me to tell him….thank you for saving my life everyday with your love.
The most endearing thing my husband ever said to me was when I was crying about not being able to do physical things anymore. He used a car racing saying on me…and I still remember it every day.
“Honey – you gotta run what ya brung”. Man I love that guyJ
Tell us: How did your caregiver inspire you to keep going?
In the 1969 book "On Death and Dying," written by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, she proposes that there are five stages of grief when we experience the loss of a loved one.
Denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
In my experience as a hospice volunteer I have seen many individuals and families move through these stages; however as an individual with peripheral artery disease (PAD) and the survivor of a bi-femoral aortic bypass three years ago, I can attest that you don't have to be dealing with the loss of a loved one to experience these phases.
The surgery and initial recovery was so unpleasant that I didn't think I would make it through. If not for the love of my husband, I probably wouldn't have. He changed my bed pans...he brushed my hair...he listened to me cry in pain for weeks and months. I still am in awe of how patient he is with me. I'm so unlovable on so many days because of my need to have a pity party every once in a while.
At first everyone is all around you and there for you...but eventually you are alone in your recovery. With the exception of that one person that stands by you and watches helplessly as you move through these stages. You both have to deal with the fear of dying...every weird pain you think this is it - I'm dying. They are afraid too…but they don’t say it because they don’t want to upset you, but I can see it in my husband’s eyes sometimes and I feel bad that he didn’t bargain for this.
I have moved through all of the phases of grief - grieving the life I should have had if I had taken care of myself better. Accepting that because I smoked I probably brought this on myself, and most importantly I am learning to live with the physical limitations that I have now. This is the most difficult and frustrating part of my journey. I cry even now writing about it.
My husband has also moved through these phases. We don’t really talk it much except he told me that before my surgery he heard a song on the radio at work one day and it made him cry because it was about a man losing his wife. He thought I was going to die…but he never told me that until later. I know that his father passed away on the operating table during his second bypass surgery. He didn’t get to say goodbye. I can only imagine what fear he carried with him during those days of waiting for and during my surgery.
We were only married four months when I was diagnosed and underwent surgery. We had to prepare our will…we had to discuss things that most couples don’t face for many years, but he did it. He went to every doctor’s appointment with me. He paid attention and would tell me when we got home things I didn’t even remember the doctor telling me.
I will never ever be able to repay him for the things he did and has done and will do for me. He has a way of facing this situation in a very practical manner. This is the hand we were dealt, and we will deal with it – whatever comes.
If you are someone’s caregiver I hope you never doubt how important you are in our lives. I’m sure I don’t tell my husband enough how much I appreciate him and everything he does for me. He has never let me feel sorry for myself for very long. In fact – he makes me mad on a regular basis by asking me if I have walked today, or making statements like “portion control” when we are eating. I have wanted to punch him a few times. Ha! It’s hard for me to tell him….thank you for saving my life everyday with your love.
The most endearing thing my husband ever said to me was when I was crying about not being able to do physical things anymore. He used a car racing saying on me…and I still remember it every day.
“Honey – you gotta run what ya brung”. Man I love that guyJ
Tell us: How did your caregiver inspire you to keep going?
