I’ve heard this quite a bit:
Lindy1989 Jul 24 · 07:18:21 PM
You are a hero
Puddytat Lindy1989 Jul 24 · 08:01:14 PM
The real heroes are my family members that stuck with me, took out my trash, did my laundry and housework, ferried me to appointments, sat with me for hours while I had chemo, and never complained.
More below the fold.
I’m not a hero. I didn’t have a choice. I had to push through all of it. My family didn’t have to stick it out, but they did. My sister, Sandy, and sometimes my cousin/buddy had a choice and they chose to give their time and effort to providing care for me for well for over 6 months. Along with the home care nurse who came 3 times per week to care for my IV (PIC) lines, I could concentrate on getting through the treatments and getting better.
We often hail the doctors, nurses, researchers and others whose hard work, compassion, and intellect make the difference between life and death. They deserve it, too. But we often forget those that are right under our noses. They’re the real heroes.
My heroes got me to a plethora of appointments with Oncology and Cardiology and for test after test after test. They sat with me, supported me, and were there for me when the news wasn’t good. They celebrated any and all good news. They made sure my prescriptions were filled, shopped for groceries, took out my trash, cleaned my house, did my laundry, called to check up on me, and often verbalized that they wished they could do more to make me feel better.
Sandy refused to accept money for gas, took unpaid time off work when my chemo treatments grew to 9-10 hours per session, and never complained. I slept through most of the chemo knowing that there was a loving person there when I woke up.
Real. Heroes.
While my cousin has been out with her own health issues, Sandy is still here even more as my chemotherapy has ended, my PIC lines are out, and I’m growing stronger as my blood count improves and home PT and OT are doing their thing. She now takes me to the grocery store once a week instead of just picking up a list of things I need. My groceries have now expanded since my appetite has returned and I can now eat real food (and lots of it, too). She even took me to her hair salon for a pedicure since I can’t attend to my feet due to having been on blood thinners, mobility issues, and neuropathy from chemotherapy. My toes are happy (and pretty)!
Last week, she had concerns when I said I needed only a few things and left the walker at home. Yes, I got tired and my leg and butt muscles, long out of practice, hurt from the activity. It was a “good” hurt, though, since the muscles were re-learning what it takes to walk.
She can hardly believe that I can take out my own trash now. The physical therapist thought it might be possible and we tried it. I plop the bag on the walker and take it more than a block away to the dumpster. If I was able to us the stairs, it would be a short trip down the stairs and out the garage door. Instead, I have to walk it around the building and through the back parking lot. Good exercise despite what my butt and leg muscles tell me. And it’s another step towards independence and strengthening my weakened and failing heart.
Take time to remember your unsung heroes. And if you’re one of those unsung heroes, THANK YOU for all you did for your family member, friend, or neighbor. You made a difference that words can never express.
Thanks to the Monday Night Cancer Club for asking me to write. You guys rock.
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