My husband had ignored my pleas to use a walker or at least a cane for the last two years. He grabs on to everything when he walks, and his balance is so bad he can’t step up on or down from a curb. He complains about pain but won’t see his doctor til he’s good and ready. I became tired of trying to coax him.
Last Christmas he had two bad falls and I had to call 911 to get him up off the floor. I can’t do it anymore. I get periodic shots for chronic spinal pain from being hit by a car 20 years ago, and I had to postpone January’s shot because my husband was admitted after his second fall.
Now he’s home from three weeks in hospital/rehab, and we have two weeks to move into a ground-floor apartment; I’m trying to pack up the whole place and get him interested in life too.
I can’t scream at him like a shrew, because he just withdraws, and he really can’t do anything, so I am trying to be nice with him so that he perks up a little bit. He is 78, and has PAD. His mind is clear. He had heart surgery three years ago and the doctors told him to use a walker back then. After his quadruple bypass in 2015, his cardiologist told me that if he didn’t walk, everything his vascular surgeon had done in his legs would be undone. Well, here we are.
I’ve been dealing with my own depression and anxiety all my life, and I don’t know what to do. He treats me like a servant, something he NEVER did before, and he seems to be very happy to have me do everything for him, which I refuse to do. I feel so alone.
I have my psych appointment tomorrow morning. It’s not a moment too soon. I feel like a rat in a trap.