The Weekend from H***
1 May
Back in January, the weekend of my birthday, David experienced his worst flare up ever. He came home early from work and crawled to the couch. He couldn’t stand up straight.
I got him into the car that afternoon and took him to get a massage. I walked him inside the building by standing in front of him, letting him put most of his weight on my shoulders. Keep in mind, I’m 5′ 2”, he’s 6′ 3”. After the massage he could stand up straight, but I still walked in front of him, bearing a good chunk of his weight. The therapist told me to get him a cane.
We had breakfast Saturday morning with our family for my birthday. I told David we needed to call it off, but he said, “No, I’m fine. It’s your birthday.” I should have just called it off myself.
I had to dress him. I had to get him in the car. Once we got there, I had to get him out and into the restaurant. It was miserable. On our way home, I stopped and got him a cane.
That afternoon I called our pastor to let him know we wouldn’t be able to teach our Sunday School class the next day. I couldn’t leave David alone. I had to help him get to the bathroom, get in and out of the bathtub. He was taking hot baths with epsom salts four or five times a day, and I had to be there to make sure he didn’t slip getting in and out.
I asked our parents to bring us meals that weekend. My mother brought us lunch and my in-laws brought us dinner. Sunday was the hardest day. It was my actual birthday, and David wasn’t even sitting at the table like he had on Saturday. He just ate from a tray on the couch. I was so grateful to my family for coming over. I needed the moral support. That and I had nothing in the fridge.
On Monday we got in to see the rheumatologist. I remember thinking “How the heck am I going to get David from the car in a parking garage all the way into the hospital building? And then, we have to take the elevator to the second floor and walk down a hallway to the doctor’s office?” I said many, many prayers on that half hour car ride.
The doctor gave David and injection in his back. I didn’t say all the things I wanted to like, “What are we paying you for? Why can’t you do your job and help my husband get better instead of worse?” I just asked him if he thought the Methotrexate David had been taking for a year was helping.
Do you know what the doctor said to me? “Methotrexate doesn’t work on the back. David should try taking Humira, but you’ll have to check with your insurance company to see how much it will cost you.”
Um…excuse me? You’ve been treating David for a year, and all he ever complains about is his back. How many Methotrexate injections have you given him in his back? And now, you’re telling me it doesn’t work on the back?! I was so angry.
I spoke with our pharmacist about Humira, and she too felt it would help David’s back. I called our insurance company and found out it would cost $1,500 a month for David to take Humira. That’s our house payment! I checked with the drug manufacturer about getting assistance, and guess what? We make too much money.
Monday afternoon, my mother-in-law brought us groceries. She even brought things like paper towels and David’s favorite toothpaste. We were almost out. How did she know? It was such a huge help.
Even Tuesday when I felt like I could leave David alone, I was so exhausted I didn’t want to go anywhere. I had a very dear friend drop by one evening that week to bring us soup. It meant a lot to me. I was so drained. It was nice not having to cook that evening.
I called the rheumatologist’s nurse to ask what we should do the next time David had a flare up over the weekend, and she said to take him to the hospital. That was it. Not which hospital. Not what they should do for him. I’ve been told that most hospitals won’t treat someone like David unless the specialist has standing orders or comes by himself to administer the injections. I really don’t like the rheumatologist’s staff.
The weekend was a turning point for us. We had to let everyone know just how bad the arthritis had become. Our family saw how bad David was when they brought us food. It solidified our need to get a second opinion.
Before the weekend from h***, I had almost given up Diet Coke. I was down to one a day. Now, I’m back to drinking tons of Diet Coke. We also decided to try any and all possible treatments. David is currently seeing a chiropractor and we’ll probably try acupuncture next.
And, that weekend we decided we had to sell our house. It was a tough decision. It’s our dream house. We’ve only had it for a year. However, a two story house just isn’t going to work for us, and we need to be closer to our parents and church family. This is a really lousy time to be selling a house, but we’re trusting in God to take care of us.
If David has another severe flare up, I’ve already warned my parents and in-laws that we’ll be moving in with one of them! I’ll just put our clothes and the dog in the car, and tell the realtor to sell the house when she can.
I’m so blessed to have family that I can say that to.
Ashley, I can’t imagine the struggles you deal with daily. I pray for extra strength for you as you minister to your husband.
Many blessings to you!
Lisa
Thank you for your prayers! I really liked your blog. I’ll be watching for more posts!
I’m from Dallas. Thanks for reading!
Wow. What an amazing young woman you are caring for your husband in this way. God bless.
Blessings & prayers to you & David.
*Be Blissful Always*
xoxo
I am so sorry. What an awful disease. Family, parents, friends. They are so important.
Happy SITS day.
LisaDay
That sounds just awful. Thank God for your family. Happy SITS Day.
I hope things are going better this year. What a tough time you two are having.
Happy SITS day!
You are so strong, young lady. You and David both. God has BIG blessings in store for both of you, even though it may not seem like it at the time.
You are in my continued prayers…
You are so lucky that you have such a strong support system. Best of luck to you and David!
Oh, and have you put your house on the market? Any hits yet?