Stuck

Why we can't (or won't) move on from bad jobs, bad relationships, and bad habits, and how we can all move ahead.

Now You See Him, Now You Don't

When you're mute and paralyzed and hooked up to machines and you didn't used to be this way, people treat you differently. They don't want to, and they might tell themselves they aren't, but they do. They see only the helpless flesh, those hands and feet that someone else put into position for you. Most who see you in this state see only the flesh. First, if they love you, they cry. Then as the days and weeks pass they start talking around you, and/or about you, as if you weren't there. Some address you directly, but they appear nervous and even embarrassed as they do, enunciating as if you were a child. A relative of mine, whom onlookers see as a motionless 250-pound hillock under a floral-patterned sheet, is learning this right now, to his horror, day by day. Read More

L.I.S.

Jake,

A fellow quad with similar issues. Soon, if not yet, you will be communicating with your wife and family more and more each day.

Relentlessly fight to see that you are turned properly because pressure sores appear quickly. I got out of the hospital last weekend after two months of ICU and therapy trying to heal two pressure sores I got at the same hospital two years ago.

Twice septic two years ago with infected blood I layed immobile for two weeks getting the sores at Dallas' finest hospital.

Have your loving wife or a trusted family member there to check your backside no less than 3 times a week. Hospitals and secondary care facilities are chalk full of people like you and me with these pressure ulcers and there are teams of Doctor's and nurses that just tend to these ulcers as their full time jobs at every middle to large hospital in the USA.

Love,
Mark

Thanks, Mark

Thanks so much for the thoughtful post. I will gratefully pass your message on to Jake and his wife.

Jake, I was moved and

Jake, I was moved and compelled to write to you. I lost my only child by hanging four years ago. He was just 13 and had been diagnosed bipolar at age 11. Meds never helped him (he had therapy also) and I do not know if his death was an intentional suicide or if he had been playing a dangerous and addictive "choking game" that has taken the lives of so many middle school children. Losing him "undid" me completely. PTSD, depression, suicidal, that's the new me. When I saw the movie described here (Bell and Butterfly) I related so much to that person. You are still the same person inside--creative, intelligent, curious, intuitive, but no one sees you the same. In my case, everyone went away because the tragedy was too horrendous to face, and because I was too distraught with grief to behave the same. No one wanted to be around someone who cried all the time; who couldn't stop asking why; who had so much rage toward my son's psychiatrist and therapist. I have found community with other moms like me online. I am now afraid of everything. Afraid even that I cause death. So, while I look "normal" on the outside, I do very much empathize with you. When everyone fails to see you as you, the you of before who has experienced this HUGE change, it dramatically affects your ability to hold on to that original you. I am so glad that your lovely wife and family continue to see you. That is a miracle. I wish you all the best in your recovery. Thanks for sharing your story.

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Anneli Rufus is the author of many books, including Party of One: The Loners' Manifesto and Stuck: Why We Can't (or Won't) Move On.

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