The Limits

This is picture of the boat after the crash. As you can see there is a hole, part of the boat is missing, the part that is missing is where Steve sits. His seat was rippped from the boat by another boat, another boat sliced into him ann his boat and took him and the pieces away. That is why his legs are broken. Ouch. Again, lucky to be alive.


I feel a need to talk about my thoughts and feelings about Steve returning to work. These are not Steve's thoughts. He wants to return to work as soon as possible, he has been working daily to try and get to work. He gets up each day earlyish, gets a shower and dressed first, moves around, tackles chores and works on the computer, all in the name of testing his endurance and his strength to return to work. He has gotten verbal permission from both of his doctors, with their warnings and concerns, which hopefully will be written as restrictions. He is motivated to return to work as soon as he can. He is worried about his job, his projects, his engineers, his colleagues. He feels bad that he has been out for this long and feels like he has let people down. He is a quiet guy at work and is probably known for his sarcastic wit, but he really does want to do a good job and does not want to let anyone down.

Now, my thoughts. I am proud of him for pushing himself on a daily basis, this is good, considering the first week or two in the hospital, he was depressed, struggling medically and did not think that he would recover fully, felt like he was going to be limited. I was very worried about him, talked to his nurses, his social worker, the psychologist, the activities director, his doctors, to anyone who worked with him and could address my concerns about depression, fear and anxiety.

By the way, for those who don't know me, I am a licensed social worker, who has been working in the field for over 10 years and have some respect in my field about what I do (This is where, you Tanya, stand up and say "she is one of the best that I have worked with"). I am a certified trauma specialist and currently work at a high school for at risk teens. I might, just maybe, know a thing or two about traumatic injury, depression, fear and anxiety side effects. And more importantly, I have been married to the man for over eight years, so I might know him too! But all in all, I was told that I need to be his wife, and not worry about the emotional piece of him, that let the staff take care of him for now, to take care of myself and my children.

I was not signing on to treat him, I was trying to talk to those who do treat him... alas, I was demoted to "wife." I will not mention any names, because everyone had incredible intentions and did their best, but a few people "tried" to help him emotionally and I felt like they were way off... One person came in to his room and wanted to talk to Steve about emotional and physical recovery and how common it is for people in Rehab centers to struggle with pain and stress. All valid points, this person explained the process of recovery and even prioritized the conversation by describing a few ways to stay focused on the outcome (discharge healthy) while in a hospital. I keep my mouth shut (for once) and listened, I had talked to everyone about my concerns... see above. This person KNEW what I was worried about, the reason that this person was in the room was because of my concerns. And I waited, for "The question" that I was not asking, "how are you feeling?" "What are you worried about?" "What do you feel this accident will do to your life?" I waited, patiently, as the conversation about how the food, the decor, the boredom can be obstacles to recovery. I keep quiet while they talked about the physical therapy and how that can be painful, which can be an obstacle... What about my concerns about my husband? When I could not contain myself any longer, I started to talk about my fears for my husband, his struggle with his fear that he could not be his weight on his legs, his anxiety of being pushed too far and not pushing himself enough. Or about how I know that it was anxiety of no longer being strong that was stopping him, not pain. And guess what happened... nothing. That is right, nothing. Apparently, when I asked about strategies for my husband to use to manage fears, anxiety and set limits on depression (things I were concerned about). This professional turned blank, as if I asked how to redevelop a medication without any side effects. Nothing. Not a thing. Just a "try to be his wife, not his social worker." Try to be his wife... and not his social worker... well okay, but here's the thing, I AM his wife and I AM a social worker. And quite frankly, I think that I am good at both and because of my relationship with my husband, I know him, really know him. I probably know more about how he thinks and responds more than anyone in this world, because we work hard on our relationship. So even though I AM a social worker, I just might also understand how he thinks, feels, even if I were not a social worker. When this person left, Steve and I looked at each other and he said simply (as he laughed) "Well, that did not help you at all did it?" And of course I said "it is not about me, it is about you did it help you?" (of course it did not help me, what the BLEEP, my concerns about my husband were not addressed at all). And he said "no it did not help me, but I have you. My Wife. Who is not My Social Worker." Ha Ha.

So, as "wife" and not "social worker" I started to do devious small things to lift his spirits, bring him strength emotionally, shift his thinking to positive and optimistic. I brought up his favorite snacks, brought up the girls daily, commanded get well posters and letters from the girls, displayed all the get well and encouragement cards from all of you, brought in the bible, brought in a laptop (borrowed) and his favorite movies, got him a radio to listen to at night, got him a book on cd that he wanted to hear, gave him money so that he could leave his room and buy coffee from the cafe, ate at least five meals with him a week, made his favorite meals, welcomed meals from others (thank you all), took him outside whenever I could, and most of all talked to him about his hopes, dreams, blessings and future. I made him practice deep breathing and bought him a journal to write down his fears and thoughts. And of course, I loved him and shared with him daily of how important he was to me and to the girls. I worked really hard to not be a social worker...

And I made Steve laugh at me. He knew what I was doing, he has been married to a social worker for some time now. I was not trying to be sneaky...
He had a lot of fun making fun of me... "do you know what would make me feel better?" he would say to me. (I am NOT dumb, I knew what he was doing, so I vamped it up a bit) "What honey, What? Anything, what do you want?" I would say with excited voice (sarcastic of course, because he knew that I knew that he knew...) "Hot fries." Whatever... Get them yourself, what are your legs broken... oh hey, they are!

Now I am sure that you might say, most women would do all of these things, because alot of women work at being nurturing and caring, this is true. I guess what I am saying is that I did not do all of this to make him comfortable and nurturing, I did it to get him focused and thinking about his future. I did not want him to give into the depressing thoughts and get discouraged.

What also helped was that he had a wonderful staff at both hospitals, they were all encouraging, sensitive, caring and really good at their respective jobs. Steve really felt cared for... and now it seems that it all helped him. He is not depressed now. He is focused and energized, he has moments of pain and is learning to understand and respect the limits of his body and his stress. He has physical therapy two to four times per week and is doing really well. He is able to walk unassisted for short distances, he is able to roll over and he is able to sit in a chair for over an hour. Standing is becoming much better and longer. Right now he is teaching the girls to play ball, chair side! He still has moments of being overwhelmed, being scared and being worried about his future, what his limits might be in an year or more. However, he is always willing to listen to my ideas, my thoughts and my suggestions, and is always quick to remind me to be his Wife and not His Social worker. Ha Ha.

Long story short, he is returning to work soon, we pray, much sooner than was initially projected (which was December), he is planning to be back in September. I just hope that he reminds and his job is aware of his limits. These physical limits and the emotional limits. I am proud of him for coming this far, working so hard to overcome so many obstacles and willing to go even further. I am gaining strength from him. I try to walk 10000 steps per day, because he can't, I figure this is my quiet way to help and support him. That and be his wife, not his social worker.

Do you know your limits?!

May God bless you and your family and may God have the most beautiful and loving way to show you your limits...

Kendra