What an odd feeling.
Sitting in a specialist waiting room, waiting, not for an appointment, but for Joe to finish his. I'm used to being the one poked and prodded while he reads the 1968 issue of National Geographic. Instead it was me looking into the face of a smiling 12 foot Australian Great White Shark. We came in together and everyone thought I was arriving to see the specialist and Joe was my 'carer.' So when our number came up and was called, Joe got up. The woman at the desk said pleasantly, "No, sir, I'm afraid that he'll have to come up himself to fill in the paperwork." I spoke up and said, pleasantly, "Oh, no, I'm just here as his minder today."
The humour belied the concern though. I'm used to being the one looked at, the one evaluated, Joe's the hearty stalwart who is there for me. Now, I'm there for him in many ways to, I know that, but this was different. A few weeks ago, starting with mild discomfort, Joe began feeling pain in his hip his lower back and his left shoulder. Our doctor sent him for tests and it turns out that Joe has osteoarthritis and was in need of seeing specialists.
When Joe came out, he looked happy, or maybe relieved, and he told me that they figure that in three, maybe four months, he should be pain free.He has to go to physiotherapy, he has to do exercises every day as he's been doing things differently as a result of the pain and he's thrown himself out of whack. He said that they were very good with him as he told them some of the things he needs to do to assist me. They said they would make it a priority for him to learn how to do those things and not hurt himself in the doing.
So begins another journey.
We've realised that we both have disabilities now. And we both live together.
Does that make our house a group home??