Brain, Heal Thyself by Madonna Siles

Author:Madonna Siles
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612830049
Publisher: Hampton Roads Publishing

Whew. We've both survived our first week of therapy at NEW. Now it's Saturday and I'm finally enjoying coffee again, with too many cigarettes. From my vantage point at the dining room table, I'm looking out across a snow-blanketed backyard at frozen Baileys Harbor, Lake Michigan, and beyond. Naked birches with black bark slashings offer a most interesting contrast to the pearly white-onwhite world. I feel like the view—frozen in time and space.

Whatever became of the blue? I wonder.

It's a faded memory, like Eve, who is sitting next to me, slurping her oatmeal. She gulps her orange juice; I remind her to slow down. My mood is as bleak as the day. What am I going to do?

Talk about a clueless caregiver; it's taken all of my energy this week just to barely manage the house, bills, and Eve's rehabilitation routine. I damn my own inadequacies. I'm a daydreamer, a creative muser, an idea person. When it comes to household tasks, I'm not very efficient or motivated. In fact, I'm downright lazy. Donna abhors the one thing Eve needs the most: routine. I'm frightened by my future. The simplest caregiving chores are already frustrating me, calling me into a life I never, ever wanted. Boring, mundane routine.

Oh well, I chastise myself, you've been on a seven-year vacation from the monotony of everyday living. Surprise. It's time to pay the piper. Better get off your duff and begin this day, or you'll soon be looking at dinnertime without a supply of groceries. But first, “Let's go shower, Eve. Gotta take care of some bad business.”

Yesterday, at NEW, the resident nurse stopped in at one of the therapy sessions to do a quick health check on Eve. “What about this feeding tube?” she asked.

“Oh, I'm on top of that,” I replied. “The doctor who put it in is going to take it out next week.”

She gave me one of those “you are just too stupid” looks. “Fine,” she retorted, “but meanwhile you might try cleaning it.”

“Do what?” Yuck. Man, am I stupid. Another instance of ignoring what I don't want to do! I'm hoping against hope that she'll feel sorry for me and do it herself. Then the old manipulative me takes over. “But I don't know how,” I say, with my best “helpless” look.

“Well, you'd better learn soon. Like, do it when you give her the next shower, in case you make a mess.” I note that she's avoiding my imploring gaze. “Look,” she says, throwing me a bone, “I'll explain how to do it. Take notes, if you wish.”

Honestly, I really tried to listen and take notes, but my mind kept going blank. I noted that the explanation was riddled with cautions, however. Better do this when I'm awake.

The moment of truth has arrived. I position Eve in front of the bathroom sink and strip her. My first mistake is not stripping me. Damn, I realize I forgot to bring the instructions with me. My second mistake is fooling myself that I can remember how to do this without them.

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