Nine years ago this June, my "father-in-law to be" had a job that in retrospect was extremely difficult. After 20 years of being Bobby's care-giver, he trained me for the job and let go. He was always there to help and offer advice when needed, but only now do I truly appreciate how difficult that was.
As is always the case, whenever Bobby goes into a hospital, the ones in charge almost never read the charts, and instead ask questions. "Why can't you feel pain? Why can't you move?" Once they discover it was an automobile accident, their expressions immediately turn to pity. Until Bobby finishes his sentence with the phrase "...almost 29 years ago." Then the mouths drop and the shock sets in. And once again, we hear the nurses talking in the hall. "He's had a SCI for 28 years and there's not one break in his skin!" Normally their incredulousness makes us laugh, or go hug his Dad, but this year I just wanted to cry. When Bob was alive I always made a point to tell him what the doctors and nurses said and how amazed they were at Bobby's great condition. He would grin his sheepish grin and turn a little pink and say, "I didn't do that much" in his deep voice. Yet he did more than he ever realized.
His innovations at making equipment work in they way we needed still makes me smile. After all, any equipment, even if it's medical, was designed to meet a need. If your need is slightly different, adapt the equipment. But one of my dearest memories of him is his laughter. During one of my training sessions, we had a typical situation that was a little embarrassing for all three of us. Bob and Bobby both started giggling, and for a minute I had an image of two men who laugh and shrug in the exact same way imprinted on my mind. I think that set the bar for how we would handle many situations in the future: laugh.
So while the nurses are in awe at how a quadriplegic can survive almost three decades without pressure sores, I stand more in awe of my memory of the stooped man with giggles who made it happen.
Bob and Bobby, late 1950's
5 comments:
sweet!
What a great post!
Oh, that was sweet. What a wonderful father he was! I too was able to witness such a servant- my grandfather cared for my invalid grandmother for close to 40 years without complaint and instead smile and praised God through it. These are the men we aspire to be like!
Also, I have to agree with you about nurses not reading charts...GRRR:)
By the way, this is Lydia- new member at church!
You are such a wonderful writer. This post made me cry!
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