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Even tough men cry! - Page 2 - Carers UK Forum

Even tough men cry!

Share information, support and advice on all aspects of caring.
Youre very brave to admit it , and better out than in ! Caring is like being on a rollercoaster of emotions. Hope you have had a better day today. Take care
I agree with Jenny, any man who can "man up" to crying is a real man.

I sat on the communal stairs of my Dad's flats at 9pm one evening last week - I was looking out for the ambulance and running back to talk to him - he had fallen over in the sitting room - against the door, the door had slammed shut, he was lying right behind it and I couldn't get the door open to get to him. I phoned my daughter - went to voice mail, ditto my son, ditto my cousin, ditto EVEN my ex-husband (and that HAD to be desperation!). I had rushed round to him after his lifeline service called me - in my pj's, howling wind, driving rain. It was dark, cold and silent sitting there. I never have felt more alone in my life. So I cried - I couldn't help it, I just felt so helpless and so alone. Hey ho, welcome to my world - or perhaps I should say welcome to OUR world.

If only those outside knew, huh?
Yes, those moments when it really, really hits that there is NO ONE ELSE except YOU to cope with the situation! (I can remember the driver of the ambulence that took my husband out of hospital back to hospice-at-home care saying to me 'Is there someone at home to get the house ready for him?' and I cracked - after nearly two weeks of sleepless nights keeping vigil at the hospital! -and yelled 'Yes, there's a housekeeper and fifteen bloody servants!')(actually, in the end, my good friend, bless her for ever, popped over and got the house warm and the bed ready....but without her, no there was NO ONE else to help....)(I did apologise to the amublence driver for yelling at him! I'm sure they've seen and heard it all!)

But, just as well your dad had a lifeline service (my same friend's elderly father was simply spotted lying on the kitchen floor by the window cleaner, who raisede the alarm...)

How did the ambulence guys get the door open, by the way? And is it something you could do yourself again, if you ever have to?
By the time the ambulance arrived Dad has got some feeling back in his legs, so after a tortuous half an hour or so, he managed to shuffle himself out of the way of the door. I am having a hook and eye type thing fixed to the door and the wall this week so it can be hooked open permanently.

Fortunately, his flat has a balcony - albeit with double glazed patio doors - I thought it was going to have to be a Fire Brigade job - ladder to balcony, cut through glass. At least we didn't get that far, this time.
Screaming sometimes helps, too.... Image I don't remember ever screaming as an adult till the occasion last year when I returned to the house after 3 days' break in Wales, while my husband had been staying with his son. I was a bit taken aback that husband was already back in the house, on his own, when I returned at the expected time, and stepson had pushed off. I was even more taken aback when I went into the kitchen to find that the old fridge had finally died, and the floor was covered with water. I took a deep breath and thought: 'empty fridge, throw away spoiled food, mop up and wash floor, get on with buying new fridge. But first, take travel bag upstairs'. So I picked up my bag and headed for the stairs, to find that the cat had been sick on the half-landing. Then I SCREAMED, repeatedly. My poor husband emerged from his room, looking anxious. I said, 'the fridge has packed up, and now I see that the cat has been SICK on the STAIRS!!!' He said, 'Oh yes, J' (his son) 'mentioned that!' If he had seen it, why the **** couldn't he have cleared it up? So I screamed some more, and then dutifully got on with unpacking, clearing feline vomit, washing kitchen floor etc. etc.

I think that the British tendency to keep emotions hidden can be a problem sometimes. I have become particularly aware of this over the last couple of years as I have made more and more Catalan friends. As in other Mediterranean cultures, they are far more physically demonstrative as a matter of course than we are, dispensing hugs and kisses lavishly to all friends and acquaintances, regardless of age and sex, and being totally unembarrassed about weeping in public. It is sometimes very endearing.

Ladybird - glad they didn't have to break the door down, or abseil down the building onto the balcony!

Tristesa - the only time I 'cracked' before, was when our son was a baby, and I'd spend the day cooking a million kilos of fresh veggies, purying the whole lot, and decanting them into tiny pots and put them in the freezer - I then had about a months worth of baby food (hurrah!). Then, I cleaned the kitchen top to bottom - and hadn't realised I'd dislodged the plug of the freezer .... everything I'd frozen then thawed, and had to be chucked. I remember sinking down behind the front door (maybe I was unconsciously trying to escape!) and simply sobbing. As though I weren't totally knackered already from baby-caring...and this was just the final straw.

Christ knows I've cried a bit a river over the last few months... But, getting stronger everyday. You were always around for me fella from day one, and if you wanna chuck me a PM don't hesitiate mate...

My hubby is a big chap and always been a bit old fashioned in the sence that he like to provide and be a rock for the family.
Since he got ill I have focussed alot on how it is impacting myself and the kids but not how it was impacting him until two weeks ago when he had a good cry, then I had a good cry and together we came through the other side.

He needed to let it out, its harder for blokes to do that but just as important.
I had my cry yesterday, but it wasn't to do with caring directly, it was because my laptop wouldn't work which means I can't order everything that Mum and I need and being housebound this is quite a problem!

hugs out to all xx