Sometimes you just have to cry

Our daughter, Channing, and I convinced Jeff to go out to eat to Texas Roadhouse last night. It’s a place he loves and we knew he’d enjoy the food and we hoped he would appreciate being out.

We get there and Jeff always jokes about having primo parking as he now has a handicap placard. Everyone was in good spirits and even laughing.

Channing was driving, and although we deliberately planned an early dinner, the parking lot was already crowded and various patrons loitered in the front of the building. Channing crept through the parking lot and with innocent delight, Jeff quips, “Oh yeah! Would you lookie there!?!? Front and center!”

As if a parking spot had been reserved just for us, there, between a sea of parked cars, was an open handicap space, and it was directly in front of the entrance. Only several little steps and we would be inside.

Jeff has been having “good leg days” recently. As we were so close to the doors, there was no discussion about Jeff using his crutches. We exited the vehicle, but the crutches stayed tucked away in the backseat.

For reference, Jeff’s mobility remains severely compromised. His “good leg days” consist of days where he’s experiencing minimal or zero pain and his legs aren’t quite as weak as usual. He’s able to navigate very short distances walking and he doesn’t need the crutches for stability.

We slowly started to make the short trek to the restaurant. I guess no one even thought about looking for the wheelchair ramp. I know I didn’t. Jeff wasn’t using a wheelchair, yesterday.

Unfortunately, it never occurred to me that a curb would be problematic. Jeff reached the curb, hesitated, and then while standing still, he tried to step up.

Jeff immediately lost his balance and he fell.

Although he didn’t sustain any major injuries, the fall hurt him physically, and worse, he was absolutely mortified and totally humiliated. Jeff tried, but he couldn’t get back up on his own. His legs are so weak, he just didn’t have the strength to lift himself up.

Channing and I managed to get him to his feet, while fellow restaurant goers and an employee gawked. When I was certain Jeff was stable, I hurriedly grabbed the crutches.

We proceeded inside the restaurant and they immediately sat us in a booth. Jeff scooted in first, a left handers preference, and I beside him.

Jeff tried to shied his face with his hands, nonetheless he sat there, weeping. Uncontrollable, huge tears, fell from his big, beautiful brown eyes.

My heart broke into a million pieces. I knew he was embarrassed, but I was only concerned about his well being. I wanted to protect him. He looked so overwhelmed and defeated. I could only maintain my composure for so long, and then tears rolled down my face, too.

I don’t think Jeff knew I cried. I didn’t want him to see me crying because I feel like I should be the “strong” one when he can’t be. I’m not strong though! I’m utterly heartbroken.

Jeff continues to amaze me. He’s one of our finest warriors. Although he still hurt this morning from the fall, he and our son, Drake, went to the gym this morning. This is the first time since diagnosis that Jeff has gone to the gym.

Jeff was disappointed that he was limited on the things he could do and he got fatigued pretty rapidly, but I was just over the moon with happiness as he detailed all his accomplishments. Don’t let his discouraged attitude fool you, he did fantastic!!!

It’s hard sometimes to remain positive and sometimes you just have to cry, but if you can find a bright spot in every day, I consider that a win.

#teamjeffgallagher

Stephanie, Good for you for hanging in there and I'm glad you had a good dinner. This kind of thing is so very important for the long haul that is coming. And, all of you learned something too. I noted one thing: no one, either other customers or (more important, no one from the restaurant) saw the difficulties and offered assistance.

Regardless, the next steps are coming, and you don't have to be strong all the time. Really.

Quiet grace, steely fortitude, admirable resilience, and iron-willed courage ...

All admirable traits, describing ALL members of your family ...

On a personal note ... I have also enjoyed some great meals at Texas Roadhouse --- there's always lively music ... peanuts in the shell to crack open and enjoy while waiting ... those savory dinner rolls ... and steak on the dinner menu!

"Team Jeff" keeps finding those fabled SILVER LININGS !

CYCLONE ~~~ # Iowa State University

Team Jeff,
I am shocked that other customers did not help. I remember a similar incident at an Applebee's when a lady fell . I was beside myself trying to get aid to her before the paramedics came. Incidents like this and like Jeff's I say to myself, "There but for the grace....go I".

I bit less of a story happen to me two weeks ago, I missed the last step at home and rolled my ankle. It hurt so bad I just lay there screaming in pain until a room mate came and helped me up. All I could think about was the Doctors words several years ago to me "You have very weak bones and could be subject to broken bones if you ever fall."

Believe me I cried all the way to urgent care. Fortunately it was only a bad sprain.
Tell Jeff to hold his head up. Many of us would have done the same thing. Especially with all the Lupron shots, I even cry at Hallmark Movies!
Timely article listed on our home page, the author is our own Peter Waite, reprised from 2018 "It's OK to Cry":

https://www.healingwell.com/articles/post/why-it-s-okay-to-grieve-your-chronic-illness-diagnosis

Keep the Faith
Wings aka Dan in So Cal

I noted that as well.

One would hope more people would jump in and help...but it's not all that common. There are a lot of "nice" people--people who say all the nice things, but who would rarely go out of their way to help a stranger. More important are those who are able to be "kind". Kindness IS about going out of your way to help. You don't have to be nice to be kind. In fact, the opposite seems to work: The people who have helped me out when I needed it were frequently those who I would have never said, "what a nice guy or gal" he/she is.

As a wife, Stephanie, your story touched me deeply. I so understand the drive to protect your husband. The hardest thing for me has been realizing how powerless I am over so much of this unexpected journey. My husband said to me the other day (he is also a Jeff), "I always saw myself as being the one to protect you. I never thought it would be you needing to take care of me." Every time I think of his words, I start crying. My heart goes out to you. We wives travel this road with our beloved husbands, and it doesn't take long to know that it is a hard and frightening road to travel. I'll hold you in my heart.