Hospital, Round 1 and "WIFFM"

He was checked in to the hospital Saturday night. I tried calling on Sunday night to get an update about his health; is his pain pancreatitis? liver? or what? Of course, no one would talk to me because of privacy laws. They said I would have to come down. I didn't necessarily PLAN on going to the hospital.

(Although "T" had been scaring me into thinking he might DIE, so I should go. Now, don't get me wrong, I am absolutely aware he could die. I think that is why I was so heartbroken and horrified when I dropped him off at the motel... I knew he could very well not emerge. I think I was saying a possibly permanent goodbye. This realization was helped along by the fact that I was reading this blog about a wife's insidious loss of her husband to the disease of alcoholism. I really believed he could indeed HAVE pancreatitis. And if now he isn't quite ready to die, it is only a matter of time.)

After not being able to get ANY information ("We cannot confirm or deny if we have a patient by that name her..."), I finally had to drive the 20 minutes to the hospital. I went back and forth as to whether I would visit him or not.

The receptionist connected me with the case manager who said she couldn't help me.

She sent me to the nurses station.

I went to the nurses station and they were dismissive. I told them I needed to complete a form to enable me to get information about my husband when I called.

They told me to go hang out in my husband's room and they would get to me as soon as they could.

I sighed with resignation... I guess I would be visiting Mr. M.

I went into his room and he had disconnected his IV and fluid was pouring onto the floor. He did this because he wanted to go to the bathroom and when he started to walk there, his hand was jerked back painfully because he was connected to an IV. Rather than having the mental wherewithal to unplug the machine from the wall and roll it with him to the bathroom, he just undid the connecting tube and flung it on the floor. In my 5 hours I spent with him, he did something similar to this 4 or more times! He was as surly and belligerent and obnoxious on dilaudid as he is on alcohol. By giving this to him, the nurses were only harming themselves!

The nurses were SO annoyed with him - and I don't blame them... he was being a pain... and I was the only one who could control him. With me we was more docile and controllable... it seemed mine was the only voice who could penetrate the haze. (Several nurses and staff thanked me for being there and controlling him.) This was frustrating and yet gratifying. Because I am SICK with the "disease" of codependency, MY ego and my grandiosity kind of LIKE that he needs me... I am the only one who can help him... he loves me in a way he loves no one else. I am not proud of it, in fact, I am embarrassed to admit it, but if I was completely honest, it is true. There HAS to be a "WIFFM" for spouses of alcoholics to stay (a "whats in it for me"). We might be kind and loving people, but we are NOT that noble of sufferers. We are NOT "Mother Theresa". There HAS to be a payoff. Maybe we get self-esteem from being a "Savior" or a Rescuer. Maybe we like that WE are the only ones they need. There are many reasons a codependent stays. On the surface, it is usually the nice or good or loving things:

"I said for better or worse. I can't just stay for the "better" part and leave for the "worst", can I?"

"He/she is my spouse... I OWE them that"

"What about the children?"

"I am obeying my God/Religion... I am not allowed to divorce"

Whatever our reasons, it doesn't really matter... I think what matters is HONESTY. Not even to others (yet), but can we begin to REALLY be honest with ourselves about what staying does for us???

I really noticed how much I snapped into all my old behaviors instantly. I picked up right where I left off. If alcoholism is a progressive disease, sheesh!, so is codependency. I started following him around, monitoring him, crying, manipulating, sneaking around and dumping out the bottles I found stashed. All my motives are not selfish and yucky... I was going to save him and me and our family. I didn't want to be left again... I didn't want the kids to have to go through this. But if "reality is my friend" (a new wisdom I am trying to incorporate into my life), then I need to admit and acknowledge what my WIFFMs are...

More later.