It took me a good 6 or 7 months to realize that “holy shit, my life as I knew it is OVER.” Not my life, but life as I knew it. My yoga teacher asked me the other day how I reacted when I woke up and my dad told me I had a stroke. I was just like “oh, ok yeah I know.” I didn’t know shit. I remember being in the hospital thinking of patients of mine and stuff that I had to do at work and I thought “well I’ll need a few months off.” Ummmm. Yeah no. After like 7 months it dawned on me that this is my life now. Not to say that I wasn’t absolutely unbelievably miserable those first 6 months, BELIEVE me, I was. But I wasn’t dealing with reality. First of all, everyone around me was babying me. Also, some people weren’t up front and honest with me. It took a while for reality to set in. I had to find my own way back to life and so do you. Well, the sick person in your life does. I’ve said on this blog before that the absolute most loving thing that a caregiver can do is do a ton of research and arm yourself with as much information as possible. But you can’t do it for her/him. 😦 I know you want to, but all you can do as a caregiver is provide some options that you think will help and present all the information that you have. But the decision to actually use that information and do those things, up to the sick one. They have to find their own way back to life and for me that involved A LOT of anger and A LOT of depression and A LOT of crying and A LOT of mood swings and A LOT of hating the world and everyone in it. But I feel better now.