8 weeks ago, with no warning my 66 yo DH experienced a heart attack. Low cholesterol and blood pressure sure didn't make him a "likely candidate". He was about 60 lbs overweight, Type II diabetic (non compliant in TXing that) and a liver transplant patient--12 years ago. Stressful job, which he loves....considered not to be a factor at all.
He was lucky in that he was able to be treated immediately and 3 stents were placed to open the clogged "WidowMaker" artery. Terrifying, and dr said no reason he should have lived--he was essentially gone by the time he made it to the operating room.
2 weeks to the day later, he has a 2nd heart attack. One of the stents was not set tightly enough in the artery. His artery has spasmed when they inserted the first stent, making it smaller, when he "relaxed" the stent didn't hold the artery open. A 2nd procedure and now it's a tight, good fit. (Like the first time was...hard to trust them now).
He didn't spend a lot of time in the hospital. They got him stable, one day is ICU, one day in a regular room and then turfed him home to me.
After the first HA, our kids drove in from all parts of the country to see him. Son stopped on the way and got out niece who is a registered dietician to write him up a "newer" kind of diabetic/heart friendly diet.
He's been very compliant with that, to the point I have to sneak a few carbs into his diet.
After the 1st attack, he was placed on beta blockers, BP Meds (temporarily), blood thinners & was allowed to disc. Metformin for diabetes. He's lost over 30 lbs...and now he's not considered diabetic.
He came home from the 1st attack and was surrounded by the kids who fussed and helped care for him. They were here a few days.
Post 2nd attack--just me. And after the 2nd one, they sent me home with an angry, depressed, anxious man who won't get out of bed. He was supposed to be walking 3 times a day, minimally 1/2 mile---and he never did it. (Once, and had to call an Uber to bring him home).
He's now on double-drug therapy--double BP, double beta blockers, double blood thinners--plus all his regular anti-rejection meds. All he does is sleep. He complains non stop. Only to me, tho.
Was released to go back to "full activity" 2 weeks ago. Came home and went to bed for 3 days. Literally, gets up to the bathroom and scrounge some food ( I refuse to feed him 3xs a day in bed!!!!!!!!!!!!) and the he's back asleep.
He has sort of gone back to work. Found out from a co worker he's actually sleeping in his car a lot. He'll say he's "working from home" but he may put in 3 hrs and go back to bed.
Just started a cardio exercise rehab 3xs a week. He hates it. Has to do 30 sessions. and is supposed to be walking on the "off" days. Won't.
At my insistence he did see his psych doc who put him on an antidepressant that he took many years ago and it didn't work then, so no hope now.
IF I fuss him and take him food 3xs a day and live my whole day caring for him, he's happy as a clam. The other night I got home from work later than he did--and he was in bed, covered in blankets and CRYING. I kind of freaked--but he was CRYING because he wanted a chocolate milkshake and he can't have one. He was overreacting b/c I had been gone all day and he didn't know what to eat. So he didn't.
Fed him dinner and MADE him eat 1/2 piece of toast (7 grams of carbs!) gave him a pain pill as he said he hurt all over so bad he couldn't move. 1/2 hr later, I was showered and he was on the phone happily chatting with our son. "Oh, I'm doing great!" (Man can't lift a kitchen bag of trash!)
I am so trapped between being "nursey" and "wifey" and running away. If I completely give my life over to caring for him, anticipating what he "might' want to eat, what kind of mood he's going to be in, etc., the stress level is a 12 out of 10. If I let him forage, so to speak for lunch, he is petulant and tells people I really 'don't do anything' for him. Stress level 12 out of 10 also.
I KNOW this has been more stressful than anything he's ever gone through. I GET IT. I have been by his side for all of it. I pick up his meds, I call the drs, I take him to the ER with panic attacks (twice) in the middle of the night....I'm just...fried.
Yesterday I took my granddaughters back to school shopping, I told him no fewer than 4 times. It was on the calendar. I was gone all day--when I got home, he was asleep. Petulantly asked me where had I been? On the calendar, I'd msg him 3 times and told him 4.
I see a man who has completely given up. He's not working his heart, so he gets weaker. All the dr says is "This is his choice, You do what you can, but in the end, it's his call".
So, I get to sit and watch him kill himself slowly through inactivity and non compliance?
I guess so. I keep giving him "one more week" to make ANY strides towards being better than the previous week.