Wednesday 30 June 2010

Integrity

I have been thinking about choice.

My husband had another convulsion last night. He has a history of fits due to low blood sugar (he is diabetic). The doctor has told him that lack of sleep affects his blood sugar, and so does exercise, and the heat in the summer. He has all the information to make an informed choice.

He chose to go out to a party on friday night, come home at 4am after drinking (only 4 beers it must be said), get only a tiny bit of sleep before getting up at 7am to go to work, in a job where he walks approximately 8 miles a day, in the sunshine, on a day which was fairly likely to be very hot. In the past, he has had fits under very similar circumstances.

I chose to spend friday night at a party with my boyfriend, and then stayed away overnight, only coming back late sunday evening. I came in and found him covered in sick and blood, realised he had fitted, and called an ambulance, as his eye was hurting him and I was worried he had hurt it when he fitted. They checked it, and said it was fine, gave him a bag of fluid, and we decided it was best if he stay home rather than be admitted, as he needed to rest and recover and he did not need any immediate treatment.

Normally I would set my alarm to wake throughout the night, and do regular blood tests, quietly on him, so as not to disturb his sleep any more than necessary. I couldn't do that this time, as I came home to find he had broken one blood test kit and lost the other (he is a very careless person). In the past, I would have gone out as soon as the shops opened, and bought him another one. I did not do that today. His eye is hurting him this morning, he thinks it got scratched quite badly when he fitted. The ambulance people checked it out, but pronounced it fine. In the past, I would have taken him to the hospital in a taxi and got them to check it out, or taken him to the dr, or rung nhs direct for him. I have left him to sort it out himself, this morning. There is no working landline in our house, as I came back to find he had broken the phone. I have gone to work this morning, and his mobile is going straight to answerphone - he often breaks it or runs it out of charge. In the past I would have gone home to see if he was okay. I have chosen not to today.

We have been together for 15 years. The fits started 15 years ago, and he has had them regularly for 11 of those years. He sees his diabetic specialist regularly, and we have just had the results back from referral to neurological specialists, which pronounced him clear on that front. The medical conclusion is - not epilepsy, nothing to do with his brain, just full blown convulsions resulting from low blood sugar. To manage the convulsions, he needs to manage his diabetes. The convulsions leave him physically and emotionally drained, with a severe headache, light sensitivity, dehydrated, pain in limbs, vomiting, and reduced consciousness for up to 36 hours afterwards.

He has always chosen to manage his diabetes badly. With constant supervision and encouragement from me, he has improved over the 15 years we have been together. It has been an exhausting, dispiriting task. I have felt trapped and without choices. I have become his carer, as well as his wife. I have mopped up the sick, fed him headache tablets, spooned soup into him, sat in endless a&e and hospital ward chairs by his bedside, soothed him as he is carried kicking and screaming into the ambulance, or had blood taken, or catheterised, whilst in the agitated and aggressive post fit state.

In the past, he has made bad choices, and I have always cleared up the resultant mess. Last year he had a fit after a gap of about 4 years. I was devastated, and because I was staying away with other partners at the time (with of course, his full knowledge and consent), I carried a burden of guilt for a long time afterwards - sickening guilt.

This time I was with my other partner, while he made himself ill. I do not feel guilty this time. He can choose not to manage his diabetes correctly. And I can choose not to be his carer. It does not mean I love, care, and have compassion and sympathy for how ill he feels today, any less. I am making a choice not to those feelings dictate my behaviour.

He went to cuddle me this morning, and I told him I didn't want him to, because I was angry with him. I am allowed to do that. I do not have to endure cuddles from him, just because it will make him sad if I do not, when I don't feel like cuddling.

Over the years I have enabled him to abdicate responsibility for his illness. He quite often engages in risky behaviour, particularly when I am away. This is partly a passive aggressive 'well, see what happens when you're not here to look after me', thing. And partly a 'ha! no-one is making me behave myself! I can go crazy, brilliant!' thing. He has done things like cooked and eaten a fish which the cats have dragged home, through the catflap, which they presumably caught out of someone's pond. Drink until he falls unconscious on the way home. Go to parties and behave crazily, coming home covered in bruises and scratches. Walk around in the street, in the snow, barefoot (diabetics have to be particularly careful of their feet). He is a very careless, childlike person. He has chosen to be that way. And I can choose not to clean up his messes.

An enduring complaint of his is, 'I feel so old, so boring, I have nothing exciting in my own life, I hate my job, I don't have a girlfriend, no-one wants me, I am dull and grey'. I have chosen to try and fix all his woes, in various ways. They have had partial success, but then failed, as he has returned time after time to the complaint of feeling old and boring. He was particularly complaining about this, last week. At such times it is common for him to attempt to recapture his youth by going out partying and having a wild night out. However, he takes no action (none, zero, zilch, literally does nothing at all despite me putting lots of opportunities in his way), to make his life better, bring excitement into his life, do things he enjoys, get a different job.

I have tried to hard to bring him fulfilment. I have tried so hard to make him happy. I always thought of myself as a pure person, someone with absolute integrity. When we began to explore poly, I struggled for a long time with this. My sense of 'self', my identity as a good person, was threatened. I have come to terms with that now. I am still a good person, even if I choose to have more than one partner. I have integrity, my moral and ethical values are sound and I abide by them. I do not need to apologise to, explain to, or even get understanding of how I am, from other people. I can choose to love more than one person, and have sex with them. And my husband can choose whether he is okay with that or not, and what to do about it if he isn't.

He can choose to take no positive action to improve his life. And I can choose to stop pouring my energy into trying to improve his life, and save a little bit for myself. I can choose to stop behaving like his mother, and his carer, rather than his wife.

He can choose to abdicate responsibility for his health, and I can choose not to step in to carry that responsibility.

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