So Many Firsts

There have been a lot of ‘firsts’ in our world over this past week, in fact over the past months.

This is our first time in palliative care, so you learn a lot, the overall routine and responsibilities of the nurses, the palliative care team, the cleaning staff, the aides and even the volunteers.  Definitely a team effort!

Then there’s the first of learning the basics where the dirty laundry goes and the fresh supplies can be found so that you can help with changing clothing, bedding, etc. without bothering anyone.

There’s that first realization that the nurses really want to have information about what’s happening throughout Wes’ day.  As one nurse said, “We want to know every detail of what’s going on with him.”  So, you become their informant.

There’s the first time you need to open your husband’s milk container for him at meal time, the first time you cut up his food, the first time, on a day he’s feeling very weak, that you need to feed him his ice-cream night snack.  Lots of little firsts.

Then there’s the first of helping him with all the day to day personal care that he is no longer able to do like shaving & showering, etc.

The first time you realize that asking him “Do you remember…?” is no longer effective.

The first time he expresses frustration at needing help.

There is that first time you see him struggle to remember people and names.  That’s always a hard one for me because some of the people he’s known for many many years and he just can’t connect the dots. 

The first time you are able to sit for an hour in complete silence with your husband, holding his hand, laying your head on his shoulder and know that for right now that's all the communication you need.

The first time you climb into a hospital bed with your husband and he holds you tight, like he doesn't want to let go. 

The first time you watch as tears roll down his cheeks watching a friend walking out the door.

The first time you ask him if you can take him for a walk/wheelchair ride just to get out of the room and he shakes his head no (in HSC he was often asking me to help him escape and I did quite a few times).  We would disappear sometimes so long they would page us to get us back to the ward.  I miss our little escapes!

The first time you realize that you have explained his diagnosis for the 5^th or 6^th time and you watch him grieve over the diagnosis as if it’s the first time he’s hearing it.  So, you stop.

The first time you wonder if you can hurt any more than you are right now.  

The first time you see him shake his head that he doesn't want visitors.

The first time you kind of want your husband to do the things that he used to do that irritated you so terribly because you miss the normal things of life.

The first time you accept help from friends and family.

The first time you realize that being humble in asking for help is not a bad thing because people want to help.

The first time that you realize that it’s ok to burst out laughing with your family in the cafeteria.

The first time you realize that not everyone is going to understand.

The first time you realize that people grieve differently and that’s ok.  

The first time you realize that this care that you are doing for your spouse is not because you have too, but because it’s the only thing in the world that you want to do.

The first time he falls and you struggle to help him up only to have him ready to fall again.  That’s the first time you realize you are stronger than you think.

The first time you realize that the mundane tasks that you now do are the only great expressions of love left that you can offer him.

The first time you realize how many children in the church will miss Wes or as some call him Mr. Wes and his secret stash of Fruit Snacks.

The first time you realize that you can’t stop talking about him to anyone who will listen.  Everything in my world is tied into his and it’s hard to share a memory where he isn’t in it.

The first time you watch your sweet grandbabies tip toe into Papa’s room instead of rushing in with joyous abandon and then watch them quietly sit.  To have little Kinsley look at me and put her finger to her mouth, “Shhh, Papa seeping!”

The first time you hear your oldest granddaughter ask the question, “Mama, how long are you and papa going to be here?  A hundred days?” and it breaks your heart because for the first time you don't have an answer.

The first time that you realize that this journey is one he will finish on his own, leaving the rest of us behind.  

And you grieve as if it’s the first time, but you know it won’t be the last.

“‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

                                                                        Revelation 21:4

That’s a first I’m looking forward too!