Yesterday was painful. Emotionally, being the 20-month anniversary since Ryan was attacked. Physically, as I pushed through a Harvey Wallbanger of a headache until the wee hours of last night. Despite these working against me, Ryan’s day was uninterrupted.
I did everything I normally do with him. I did it at the same intensity. So, to Ryan, it was another run-of-the-mill day. I have to tell you, though, I was hurting… badly. Every time I exerted effort my head exploded with pain. As you know, tending Ryan requires nearly ongoing exertion.
Now, you might think I’m looking for pity here. As it turns out, you’re right. I’m all in favor of having a pity-party for me. Nah, just kidding… I’m not interested in pity.
My point is this, anyone in a full-time caregiver situation simply can not put themselves first. Ever. In my case, the pain didn’t begin to diminish until after Ryan was tucked comfortably in bed. This gave me an opportunity to shield my eyes from the light, arch my neck to apply pressure against the wall, and massage my head. The entire time I hoping that Ryan has nothing crop up that requires my attention. Ryan came through for me there and I dozed off for a couple of hours sleep.