Losing the physical self

Didn’t sleep last night even though I had a whole hospital bungalow to myself. Anita lies there, body bloated, tongue lolled out, urine dark. I notice she has still got her wedding ring on. Her blood pressure is all over the place, her tongue is swollen out but I can’t help feeling she is sticking out to the world.

Listening to Johnny Cash, not my usual fare but very fitting.

I hurt myself today to see if I still feel
I focus on the pain the only thing that’s real
the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting
try to kill it all away but I remember everything
what have I become my sweetest friend
everyone I know goes away in the end

The absolute worst thing you can do in intensive care is sit and settle to the beat of the machines. Hanging your emotions on the rythmes and sounds. You have to try and let it all unfold naturally and wait for official news from the Doctors. It’s easy to succumb to the all powerful rollercoaster.

This time around it feels even harder than the last. Back then my mind and love was pure, a settled fate awaited. Unsulled by the ambiguities of life. She wants to be at peace yet the wonders of modern medicine won’t allow it. I know Anita is more distressed awake than unconcious therefore I beg the staff to release her. She has taken enough drugs, however the combination is unpredictable. The posibility of further damage hangs in the air like a radioactive cloud.

10.40pm Anita has opened her eyes, it was all calm until now. As she awoke I felt the sharpest pain for her I have ever felt, her wish is denied and she could soon be suffering again. I go back to the bungalow and collapse into a dreamless sleep.

8pm I have arrived at hospital tired after a long drive suffering a nasty head cold. Earlier today I heard anita was in a critical condition and with my mobile out of action I have to monitor things at the motorway services through the long drive. Christ I have become an expert at driving at a good speed with the rainstorm in my eyes. When I arrive to find Anita wired up to the machines I am a little shocked she’s still alive, not only that but improving. The last time I was at Barrow hospital I nearly died of peritinitus. Anita was helping me through a burst appendix. She is very unconcious and it all comes back to me from just over 2 years ago. How different it it this time, not so much that intensive care is less grand than addenbrookes, but that this time she is seeking a release from life. It puts a whole new complexity on things. Now here I am 2 years later apologising to her that I won’t be able to pull the plugs out for her.

They are now taking some of the wires away, I think she is improving from her critical state earlier. I think she may wake up in the morning and she is going to be very angry. I get to stay in a hospital bungalow tonight.

I randomly open the quote book.

There are always risk in freedom
The only risk in bondage is that of breaking free.

Anita is on a life support machine in hospital. In the early hours of this morning she took an overdose. She was discovered by her mother before the drugs had got to work. It seems that she had planned it, she took pretty much every pill in the house and washed them down with half a bottle of whiskey.

The outcome at the moment is unsure. For a long time Anita has asked to be set free. My love spiritual beliefs, cowardness and a refusal to accept the truth has prevented me from helping. I have told the medical people what she wishes with all her heart in the hope it could help her. However I know that’s not going to be possible.

There has been more depression this week. I came downstairs one morning this week to find an ambulance had arrived. Anita was so low, like she had almost completely given up. Her whole mind set had become exhausted. So much so that the carer was concerned enough to dial 999. After a long examination from a very nice paramedic she was diagnosed depressed, but could have had a temperature. She was offered two options, go to the hospital to get further help, or get checked out by the GP. We decided on the GP but I had to get Anita out of bed and take her down there, they were to short staffed to come out.

The thing is that all the options we have these days almost seem pointless. You know what the end result will be. She was due for an increase in her anti-depressant medication. The GP visit has at least speeded things up because she needed various tests before any increased medication.

She was so down at rehab yesterday that there have been more discussions with the psychologist, psychiatric nurse and GP. The option, if she loses it, is to take her down to A&E, leading to something that I feel won’t help at all. She has now also been given some Diazepam medication to try to give her some relief from anxiety.

Today we spent about 2 hours waiting around Addenbrookes hospital to be told in a few minutes that Anita’s smile can’t be rebuilt. We had spent most of the day travelling, to see the plastic surgeon, and waiting around at the hospital. She has been told there isn’t any contraction or enough potential movement from the nerves of her face, that could be of further help. Anita always has the hope that she can get back to how she was, so it’s always difficult for her to hear these things. In fact in her situation, medically, you never get very good news so it’s not a good idea to go looking for it.

They will be able to do some surgery to improve the balance around her mouth. Borrowing more flesh from her leg to help pull back her mouth. They may even tighten things on her left side so that it better matches the right. It aint much fun going to a hospital that will forever be burned into my conscience.

I have decided that some thoughts need to be kept more private, so that I can really let it all spill out. Therefore from now on I will protect some posts that I think aren’t suitable for everyones consumption.

Today is my 40th birthday, when life begins. Anita tells me that she just got the kitchen knife out and thought about stabbing herself through the chest. This has surely been one of the worst days of my life. We spent about 2 hours waiting around Addenbrookes hospital to be told in a few minutes that Anita’s smile can’t be rebuilt. They will be able to do some surgery to improve the balance around her mouth but there isn’t any movement in the nerves of her face to take it further. To go back, yet again, to a hospital that will forever be burned into my conscience.

I took the day off, originally not to celebrate my birthday, but so I could have time to myself. The rest of my day has to be spent looking at legal papers and sorting out an ILF form. The thing is that all this effort goes in and it all feels so pointless given the almost complete lack of Anita’s will to live. She also has to deal with the fact that she can no longer have 100% of me; a large part is living another life. I would like to have at least gone out for a meal or something, but I can’t actually sit and listen to what she has to say. My threshold for how much is too much is becoming lower and today is another day when something else has broken forever within me. I am very worried that all this is draining what I feel for her. First to go has been my attraction to her, what is next?