It is difficult lying here. Few have the capacity to know or understand what being a paralyzed mute is like. It isn’t easy that’s for sure!
In addition to things you might expect such as having an itch and being unable to scratch it. You can’t begin to imagine how maddening it can be. Man! Did I get this many itches before my stroke? Now I have no choice but to live with them, I mean, it’s not like I can hire a professional scratcher to sit with me or expect someone to come at my beck and call.
It is also frustrating that you can’t simply put on a sweatshirt if you are cold, or take it off when you get warm. Those are just a couple of the things that I used to take for granted. I sure don’t now!
Let me tell you, those are a walk in the park, compared to the loneliness that I feel most days.
It’s not easy to explain, except to say that we humans are pack animals. Why else do we put our prisoners in solitary confinement? Isolation is a means of punishment.
It isn’t long until you start counting the number of pictures on a wall, or water stains on the ceiling. Those times are only broken up briefly by the people that come into your room. But since I’m obviously not much help, they have jobs to do. And they are quickly on their way. However, it certainly helps that I have Jonell and Lydia near me.
It isn’t fair for me to expect more of their time than I already take. You don’t how much there is to do to take care of me and run a small farm. And so, you just lay there hoping there will be a reason soon, that will cause someone to need to come back into my room. To bring some laundry, to adjust a machine, or to bring some medical supplies. Any reason will do.
My wife and little girl are exceptional caregivers. They often ask if I need anything. My being here has caused a huge disruption in their daily routine, and when I suggest that perhaps I should go back to a home, they simply say that they are doing it out of love.
They have adapted well. Most days are full, with my visitors who stop by to check on me, and they’re being consumed with regular household chores. There are days that they get to spend more time with me, and those are always the days I cherish most.
Yeah, you can’t begin to know what it’s like to be me. Nor would I wish it on you. I don’t want your sympathy; I just would like your understanding.
Everyone goes through a trial at some time or another. It’s how we come out on the other end that is most important that makes us who we are.
Nights are the most difficult for me, as it is the time when I know that I’m going to have the fewest number of interactions.
It’s funny, but you would think that I would look forward to the nights, as when I dream, I am always somebody who has full use of his arms and legs.
But often I just lie awake and stare at the ceiling or a wall, or the clock as the minutes pass by, turning into hours until suddenly it’s getting light outside.
Have I stayed awake all night again? I really need to stop doing this, I need my sleep. Then suddenly, bam! I fall asleep. Left to dream of a different me when I wasn’t noticed because of my limitations but rather my accomplishments. Where I was just another man, no better, no worse: someone other people just looked at but barely noticed.
I long to be that man again. And God willing, someday soon I will be!
