The carer

Over the last four weeks I have indulged in some personal reflections following my freak accident. Early on I rightly commended the nursing care I received in hospital and gave thanks for the patience and tenderness of care I received.  But I really need to make special mention (and this is not just because she may likely read this post herself) of Carol, who has suddenly become my arms and legs...and much much more. 


I have lost count of the times that Carol has come to my aid, night and day, as she had prepared meals, changed and washed clothes, coped with going up and down the stairs with food and drinks, positioned crutches and wheel chair for expeditions to hospital and doctors' visits, answered the phone, organized medicines, cancelled flights and plans, and been an omnipresent source of strength and encouragement. Those who know her will not be surprised that she has somehow also found energy to give meals to visiting friends on several occasions.


Some moments have pushed the envelope.   A few days ago I woke at 5:45 am and reached for the glass of water by my bed in order to take the next round of drugs.  Clumsily, and very noisily, I knocked the glass over and anointed everything on my bedside table (and underneath).  As Carol shot awake and clambered out of bed to remedy the situation I was reminded of our marriage vows.  When I was asked to repeat after the minister the words 'for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health' Carol gave a running commentary under her breath (which only I heard)!  'For worse... for poorer.. in sickness'.  She was smiling as she said it  - at least in my memory she was!  I confess that over 46 years I have given her more than my fair share of grief yet every time she has come up trumps.  Truly, I thank God for her love, grace and humour - we have at least four more weeks ahead with me on crutches and I pray my spectacular carer will keep on going.