I have taken my first HRT tablet this morning, so now it’s a case of wait and see, not just on the hair situation but also to see if I feel any changes in my MS, the more I think about it the more sense it makes that there will be some. Hormones effect everything that our bodies do whether or not we are aware of it, so the logic is clear that some of what has changed for the worse in the last few months, could well change again, all I hope is that it’s for the better not the worse. Adam has gone out for the day, he has headed up to the middle of nowhere, where his mother lives, to spend a day once more being her son and sitting around in a different living room. We went through the normal ritual of him first asking if I would be all right if he went, followed by the same question a dozen times over, before he agreed with himself, that it was OK for him to go. I know that it is all down to the fact he loves me and worries when he isn’t here, but I can’t see why the logic of my being all right day in day out when he is at work, with the likely hood of anything happening to me today, to see that it really is rather OTT.
I have tried many times to put myself in his place, but as we are two very different people it is almost impossible for me to see everything through his eyes, it is actually easier for me to take myself out of the equation and to imagine being him. If the tables were 100% switched I know how I would act and what I would do as his carer, I have never been a worrier, even as a mother I was inclined to react through logic with love, rather than love with logic. I was the kind of mother that if one of my kids fell over I didn’t go all gushy about it, I picked them up, brushed them down, looked for any real problem and sent them off again to do what they were doing. I know that my way of caring for Adam if he were in my position, would be to ensure his environment was perfect and everything he needed was there, but without asking or fussing. Everything would be clean, organised and ordered so that it is calming and relaxing as there would be no reason for him to even feel he had to do something, clean something or even help with anything. I would do my best to pre-empt his every need, by having everything from food to cloths, medication to entertainment, all there, all always ready for him when he wanted it. Just like I wasn’t a gushy mother, I wouldn’t be a gushy carer, I would trust him to be able to sort out problems for himself and to be able to deal with the problems his health brought to him, but ready to help if needed. I wouldn’t be hovering around him waiting to rescue, but I would be listening for a distance for a call for assistance. Adam and I have been together now for long enough for me to be able to see and understand his way of caring, much of which highly amuses me and much often highly frustrates me. I know that his first step in caring is to worry, his second is to worry but ready to jump in and help and his third is to worry, hovering around me then taking over, if he gets the chance. He looks for dangers that don’t exist, he sees that as a major roll, to be the one who removes danger, that danger being a crumb on the floor along the route I might take, to my walking carrying a knife on my plate, to constantly reminding me that things I can see are there. Somehow worrying seems to help him, something I don’t quiet understand but it is Adam, he worries about all the things in life that will never happen. Two very different ways of caring but both with just as much love at there heart.
Some how I have always had this thing about looking at life through logic, which is really rather stupid as if there is one guarantee in life, that is that none of it is logical at all. I know that it comes from my childhood that emotions for me became a minefield that I just couldn’t always deal with, so logic was my way of hiding from them. Right or wrong, I have also tried not to just deal with my life, but my health through logic as well, no matter how ill I have felt I have always tried to find those logical steps of how I got there and therefore what might help me to make it better. That’s why I analyse everything, I have to find the logic, as for me worrying just doesn’t work. Caring is one of those things that I can see becomes a totally emotional process, I doubt even those who earn their living from being a carer can keep emotions out of it. I know we hear lots of horror stories, but I honestly believe that they are the few, who have given the rest a bad name, caring for someone has to be emotional, if you are going to really make someone else’s life comfortable and pleasant, you have to understand them and their needs. I know I would make a terrible paid carer as logic just wouldn’t really work, even my mother said years ago, that she would rather go into a home than live with me, as we would land up with one of us killing the other. It was a joke, but a joke with a lot of truth behind it. I know that I could only ever be a carer for Adam for two simple reason and it isn’t love, it’s down to knowing him and understanding him, those two key things mixed of course with love, would turn me into a carer, but for it to also work for me, I would still need to be allowed to add in my brand of logic to daily life. I guess that may well be the truth behind being a carer, you still have to be you, otherwise it senses to be care and becomes a chore.