2007 was the year we moved back into our old house in February. By April, Clint was in power chair. He would never have been able to use it in our condo, which didn’t sell until May. He began going downhill but was able to play bridge with his friends twice a week. He so wanted to stand over one more putt before he died, and he kept talking about more knee surgery because his last operation left it a real mess. He gradually became too week to stand, even with a walker. He felt bad much more than he felt good, but we made it work. Being in a house in which he could navigate was a blessing - even though he wrecked nearly every doorway and the windows in the washer and dryer. God, it made him mad to have so little control.
We made another trip to Mississippi, stopping in Jackson to see friends, then driving to Baton Rouge to see more friends. Afterward, we drove down to New Orleans for two days of eating. Clint drove his chair like a maniac, not looking where he was going, hitting curbs, missing the flat parts of the ramps. I finally got over it and just let him show out.
It was the year I had eosinophilic gastritis and was on steroids for 11 months.
Clint had a series of transfusions that kept his hemoglobin up and made him stronger.
We didn’t get to go to Shannon’s wedding in Gatlinburg because it was beside a waterfall and there was no access for Clint’s chair.
It was the year that 1/3 of my hair fell out. Stress. Rogaine keeps in growing back.
From my Journal: 18 September -
When will this torture end? Why in the name of god must I suffer like this for the rest of my life? When is enough enough? My soul is sick, bruised. My body aches. Clint will never be himself again. I have stood up under the pressure of all that and tried not to be cranky about it. Shouldn’t one thing be enough? Now Clint wants to have more surgery and I have not right to challenge him on it. I have to let him make decisions about his health and well-being. So, I stand by and wait to see what will happen, and if it all goes to hell, I will be the one to rise to the whatever the situation might be and just do what I have to do. And I am so damned tired of being the strong one, so tired of being the responsible one.