I saw an article online recently titled “How to Support a Loved One Who Has Long-Haul COVID-19.” That seems like something worth writing about, I thought - perhaps It could explain better than I could just what I’ve been experiencing this past year and provide ways to deal with it. Sort of a user’s manual. So I read it.
The first topic was “Stop talking about the illness as something that will resolve soon.” I can go along with that, as I was released from the hospital almost 10 months ago and still show lots of aftereffects. As far as I’m concerned this isn’t going anywhere in the foreseeable future so we might as well get used to it.
The next topic was “Adjust your expectations for what your loved one can or can’t do.” That seems doable too, as there may be days when I’m doing great and other days when I’m sleeping under the bed. I try not to make too many weekend plans, as the weekdays - even working from home - require more energy than they used to, and I find myself chillaxing a lot on Saturdays and Sundays. I can’t stand canceling plans at the last minute but sometimes I just might have to, so that may become part of my new normal.
Then it discussed “toxic positivity.” Say, what now? Apparently, this is triggered when people say things like “you’ll feel better if you have a more positive attitude,” or “I know you can do this,” or even “you’re stronger than you think.” I really don’t consider any of that particularly toxic, and I’m also pretty comfortable with how I’ve been handling all of this so far. I made the decision back in the hospital that I would not allow myself to be defined by this mess, and that was well before the term “long-hauler” had even been coined. So I think we’re good here.
Number Four was “Ask how they’re feeling emotionally and be ready for their true answer.” Got that covered, as I think I’ve developed some pretty good emotional cred these past several months. I ain’t hiding a damn thing.
Then - and this one really escapes me - you’re told to “know that your loved one might change their mind about how they want to cope with their illness.” This means that sometimes I may want to talk about it and sometimes I won’t. Well, duh.
“Initiate conversation and connection. Don’t wait to hear from them.” Now, I’ll admit I was keeping a pretty low profile for a while, but I think I’m doing okay in terms of staying connected to people. If not, just call and let me know.
The final one was my favorite - “Offer a hand with specific tasks, instead of asking how you could help.” I know I’d be fine if somebody offered to wash my car, for example, but I also know I’d stand over them as they did it to make sure it was being done exactly the way I would do it, thereby potentially ruining a wonderful relationship. Same thing goes for doing repairs around the house. So we’ll just let that one slip by as well.
It seems that a lot was left out of that article, so I thought I’d add a few items based on anecdotal studies. Not personal experience, of course.
1. If they can’t remember the names of all four Golden Girls, do not call 911.2. If you see them aiming the TV remote at the microwave, gently turn them toward the TV and try not to laugh while doing so.
3. Give them cake. They love cake.
4. Do not let them go waterskiing. Fun fact: I tried it once in college on the Long Island Sound - never saw fish laugh before.
5. Remember - naps are their friend, people’s names are not.
6. If Caller ID tells you they’re calling, when you hear heavy breathing don’t assume it’s an obscene phone call.
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