Role Reversal

I didn’t expect to become the caregiver so soon. I’m not even done recovering from my own surgery, and suddenly I’m the one picking up the pieces because Joe’s foot is broken and his ankle is sprained. It feels strange and heavy and unfair, but also like something I have to do. Something I can’t walk away from.

And this is only the beginning. Joe will have surgery. He will have a long recovery. I know what that looks like. I know how much help he will need. I know I have to make sure he has everything he needs to heal completely.

But I am exhausted.

Not the kind of exhausted you fix with a nap. The kind that sits in your bones. The kind that makes your legs shake when you climb the stairs. Today I carried his pillow and his leg pillow upstairs, and by the time I reached the top I was sweating. My body was reminding me that I am still healing too. That I am not ready for this. That I don’t have the strength I keep pretending I have.

And then there’s Jillian. Being the only one who can walk her is so hard. Before all of this, I only walked to the end of the neighbor’s driveway. That was my limit. Now I’m doing a quarter of a mile. I’m proud of that, but it drains me. So I take her out more often instead of fewer longer walks. It’s the only way I can manage it without collapsing.

Sometimes I get so exhausted that I just cry. Not a dramatic cry. A quiet one. The kind where the tears fall because my body doesn’t know what else to do. The kind where I have to wipe my face quickly so Joe doesn’t see. Because I need him to ask for help. I need him to not try to do things by himself. I need him to trust that I can handle the things he can’t right now.

So I hide the tears. I hide the shaking. I hide the moments where my body feels like it’s giving out. I swallow the exhaustion and keep moving because someone has to.

This role reversal is hard. It’s messy. It’s painful. And it scares me. But it’s ours. And I’m doing my best to carry it, even when my body is begging me to rest.

And yes, I know I am being dramatic. I am hoping that writing this will help my body let go of the exhaustion.