Second day with new carers and I am still wondering how it could all have gone so wrong the first time around. It’s still early days, I suppose, but so it’s clear that the two carers (and there are only two, not a dozen different ones) coming in now for 6-9 hours depending on the day of the week are really caring. They have also managed to give me some time and space to do all these things (work not being the least important of them) that I didn’t have for – is it weeks or is it months already?
Pádraig is getting on well with them two by the looks of it. There is much less stress, much more time and predictability. They are discovering each other’s abilities, strong points. The days are almost too short for Pádraig now between therapies and exercises. He does take it easy and slow. It’s a way of doing things we could all learn from, a slow speed (is that what is called an “oxymoron”?) that makes you see, feel, and understand things that otherwise just fly by.
Today, I had some conversations, direct and via email, that made me realise the complexity of our lives since Pádraig’s accident, at a mental but also at a very physical and pragmatic level. There are things we are dealing with now which we never new anything about, things we didn’t even know that they existed. There is an intensity, at a spiritual, mental, as well as physical level, which is out of this world. How can you share this, how can you try and explain it, how can you make people understand, if not make them feel what all this is like? You can’t, is the simple answer. Still thinking of Ciara’s poem and Markus’ song: nothing makes sense since then.
This is where the shell comes in, the kind that provides you with shelter, the kind that protects you form the environment, the type of shell that hides a treasure inside – the kind of treasure you’d do anything for. The type of treasure that pushes you to do things you never thought you were capable of. Sounds familiar?