Caregiver Turmoil
Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 3:43 pm
I am posting here because I just need to vent these emotions whirling around inside me in a place my girl cannot see.
My daughter has incomplete transverse myelitis - she was diagnosed about a year and a half ago with a lesion between C2/C3. The right side of her body was going completely numb from her shoulders down. We have been through series after series of tests and the news is not positive. They are treating her for MS but still hold out the possibility of NMO (although those tests have been negative to date). She is taking Copaxone. We have been juggling symptom management.
The last MRI showed a "fuzzy/hazy" spot between C5/C7-8. She is now experiencing weakness and loss of sensation in her left and right side. The tingling on her left side has begun. We are headed into another episode with no knowledge of how she will come out the other side.
We are a very close family. I am a single mother of 4 daughters and she is my firstborn. As we careen down this slippery slope of doctors/medications/symptoms I find myself frantically searching for the brake. I want to stop this horrendous ride. I want to take her pain - restore her health - remove this burden and yet I find there is no brake, I have no control, I cannot absorb her pain. This knowledge causes me great pain.
I am crying as I type this, so close to a full blown panic attack which I know will not benefit anyone. Her normal is changing. My normal is changing. Our normal is changing. I am processing enormous amounts of grief in secret because I don't want to add to her already overwhelming life. There is no fix for this. There are no good words. I know all the cliches. We are in prayers. People are "thinking" of us... People offer us what they can to comfort, but this ride still sucks.
I do only what I can. I laugh with her. Celebrate the joys we can find. I love on her. I tease her like nothing is wrong. I help her up steps. I carry her groceries. And when it comes time I will load her chair and get her a smartass license plate for it. And every time I see her eyes light up and her burden temporarily forgotten I will rejoice in my success.
She is my girl. Chronic illness doesn't change that. I am not special - lots of parents are on this ride for many different reasons. I never wanted to identify with them but I do. My heart is shattered and still it beats as I hide behind my Lets-be-strong-positive-attitude.
I am a mom. I am a caregiver. This is my turmoil.
My daughter has incomplete transverse myelitis - she was diagnosed about a year and a half ago with a lesion between C2/C3. The right side of her body was going completely numb from her shoulders down. We have been through series after series of tests and the news is not positive. They are treating her for MS but still hold out the possibility of NMO (although those tests have been negative to date). She is taking Copaxone. We have been juggling symptom management.
The last MRI showed a "fuzzy/hazy" spot between C5/C7-8. She is now experiencing weakness and loss of sensation in her left and right side. The tingling on her left side has begun. We are headed into another episode with no knowledge of how she will come out the other side.
We are a very close family. I am a single mother of 4 daughters and she is my firstborn. As we careen down this slippery slope of doctors/medications/symptoms I find myself frantically searching for the brake. I want to stop this horrendous ride. I want to take her pain - restore her health - remove this burden and yet I find there is no brake, I have no control, I cannot absorb her pain. This knowledge causes me great pain.
I am crying as I type this, so close to a full blown panic attack which I know will not benefit anyone. Her normal is changing. My normal is changing. Our normal is changing. I am processing enormous amounts of grief in secret because I don't want to add to her already overwhelming life. There is no fix for this. There are no good words. I know all the cliches. We are in prayers. People are "thinking" of us... People offer us what they can to comfort, but this ride still sucks.
I do only what I can. I laugh with her. Celebrate the joys we can find. I love on her. I tease her like nothing is wrong. I help her up steps. I carry her groceries. And when it comes time I will load her chair and get her a smartass license plate for it. And every time I see her eyes light up and her burden temporarily forgotten I will rejoice in my success.
She is my girl. Chronic illness doesn't change that. I am not special - lots of parents are on this ride for many different reasons. I never wanted to identify with them but I do. My heart is shattered and still it beats as I hide behind my Lets-be-strong-positive-attitude.
I am a mom. I am a caregiver. This is my turmoil.