When the Caretaker Needs Care

Yes, that's my left foot.

About two weeks ago, after a lovely visit with friends and hot chocolate with whipped cream in a coffee bar, I slipped in dog shit and broke my left ankle. I was alone, in the dark, on a wide street with no other pedestrians around to notice my predicament. My high tolerance for pain enabled me to get up, walk two blocks to my car (stopping at a street fountain to wash the shit off my hand) and drive home using the clutch. Thinking it was only sprained, I wrapped the ankle, took some Advil, and had a bit of wine.

Three days later I realized I needed x-rays, and they revealed broken bones on the inside and outside of my ankle, requiring surgery. I knew I was going to have to pay for private service since I don’t have Italian health care set up yet (and probably would not do this sort of surgery in a public hospital anyway) but I needed to get it done quickly and with a minimal hospital stay. Luckily our doctor’s office came to the rescue with a very experienced American orthopedic surgeon specialized in hand and foot surgery and she got me into a private Catholic hospital close to home. I had

After surgery

the surgery the next day and spent only that night in the hospital. In another few days I get to switch from a cast to a boot and my healing is progressing nicely so far, plus I’m down to only using Advil for pain. Big sigh of relief, right?

Not quite. If I didn’t have two fantastic women who help me manage things at home, who know and understand my mother and her needs, and who were willing to take turns staying overnight so we had constant coverage, I don’t know what I would have done. In part you just don’t realize how much you do as a caretaker until you can’t do it anymore. You cannot even take something out of the fridge and get it to the counter when you have to walk with crutches.

For some time my mother had refused to let me order her a rolling walker with a seat for when she was tired of pushing it around. Now I realized I had to get one as I couldn’t risk her falling, and I decided I also needed a stool with wheels to roll around, at least in the kitchen. I also went online to buy cat litter, and stock up on grocery items that are heavy to carry. We tried ordering home

Better stick with Italian food.

delivery from a local restaurant for the first time and were disappointed by mediocre poke bowls. Our helpers managed all the rest and so we got through these two weeks with only one slow-motion late night fall as my mother was heading to bed.

We also had our Roman friends come to the rescue with a Sunday afternoon visit and a Christmas lunch feast, picking up our spirits considerably. My sister and her family cheered us on through FaceTime calls and it made them not seem so far away. Even though my mother would regularly forget what had happened to me, she started to catch on when she would see the cast on my foot, and her patience and concern has been of great comfort.

Now that I am facing the grim reality of not being able to drive or walk without crutches for weeks, not to mention months of physical therapy, I realize that the hard part is probably yet to come. I don’t know what it will be like for us to be constantly in each other’s company at home, to not go out to eat, or just for a drive or an errand. We’ll have to take taxis for important things like doctor appointments and blood tests (coming up in January) and I guess just learn to manage as best we can.

The research on the toll caretaking takes suggests that it’s not enough to carve out a bit of down time, to relax and take a break. I thought my twice weekly gyrotonic exercise classes were my sanctuary, keeping me fit in body and mind. I learned to do more than errands while my helpers were with my mother, to go for walks, to see an exhibit, or shopping. I was even plotting to take my laptop to a café one afternoon and work on the young adult novel I am writing, which seemed truly luxurious. For now, that will all have to wait. I have to focus on healing, and getting through the tough weeks ahead.