I had a peaceful walk and talk with my friend recovering from a major illness that kept her in ICU all summer. She was in a coma many weeks, and yesterday she asked about some aspects of her care while she was unaware. She said her mouth was bothering her and told her I wasn't surprised, as the respirator and tubes had really torn up her mouth, as well as her face, arms and anywhere there were tubes. She doesn't remember, because after she turned the corner towards wellness, they began taking tubes out, putting in a trach, healing her skin and by the time she woke up, she looked much better. It's difficult for her to believe she was that sick or that damaged. It must be hard to take someone else's word for it as well.
She said her husband hadn't told her about a lot of this. I suggested he probably has post traumatic stress and cannot bear to relive or describe some of the terrifying moments. Her grown kids were stunned and devastated as well. I told her again how brave and faithful and tender they were with her. Now that she is better they are relieved, but exhausted from mental and physical fatigue. Just being in ICU is trauma. And they were there for weeks.
I hope that I am filling in some blanks and saving her family from reliving the summer. I was deeply upset myself, but I didn't bear the responsibility of her care. Now I am experiencing the responsibility of my brother's affairs being settled, planning a ceremony, selling his house, possessions and car. I find myself exhausted, as my friend's family was a few months ago.
Ironically, there is no one who can fill in the blanks about my brother. He was extremely isolated. I have a feeling sense of his suffering, but am spared the details. We do what we can to listen to the truth. But in the process we must protect ourselves and only take in what we are able to at the time. A delicate balance, to say the least.
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