Let me tell you, it’s a good thing I’m a planner. The amount of forethought that goes into vacuuming the house is insane. The noise of the vacuum for John is untenable. When I need to vacuum, I notify John of the need and my plan to do so days in advance. Then, when the appointed day comes, I check with him before I begin, unless for some amazing reason the planets have aligned and he plans to be out of the house. If home, he will lock himself in our bedroom, door closed, with some sort of white noise on. I try hard to not vacuum our bedroom until he is out of the house. If he’s downstairs in the basement, forget it, I cannot vacuum anywhere. He says it sounds like a grinder crunching its way through the house and is totally overpowering for his brain. He says it makes his teeth rattle and his jaw clench. And, we do have one of the quieter vacuums!
The dishes are easier but still take thought and care on my part. I try not to put the dishes away (what with all the clinking and clanking that occurs) until John is mentally rested or doing something else such as taking a shower or working out, or even resting in the other room. While I’m not obsessive about it, I do make a concerted effort to put the dishes away quietly. I’ll stack the plates gently on the counter and then transport them all together to the cabinet. I’ll softly, as much as possible, place the glasses and mugs gently onto the shelves. The silverware is more difficult.
He’s never complained about the laundry but the noise of the washing machine and dryer going I think bothers him a little bit. He will close the laundry room door if they are running. But, I don’t have to alter my cleaning plans to get that job done.
Other than I don’t do chores while he’s sleeping or actively resting because I’ve woken him up before by sweeping, mopping, or even dusting; other, quieter chores don’t seem to be as much of an issue. (John wakes up very easily. It’s a hyper-vigilance he obtained whilst in the Marines.) He gets a little gun shy when I clean. He tells me that I walk as though I’m angry and with a stern look on my face. I always tell him that I’m not angry, just focused on the task at hand. I guess no one in the house, including the cats, like it when I’m cleaning because of this angry, pissed off vibe I give off, which is totally unintentional. Maybe it’s an inherent vibe those who clean give off, non-verbally telling all in close proximity to stay out of the way so the job can be done quickly, efficiently, and effectively.
TBI Spouse (and Others) 