Saturday, July 10, 2010

Just Call Me Determined Daughter!

Boy, what a week. We now have two new aides, one who will be here four times a week, one who comes only once. Their agency wants me to try that schedule, the reasons for which are many. I’m trying to be optimistic about it benefiting both Mother and me, but it remains to be seen.

In the meantime, I still haven’t had time to work on this blog, or to work on my Web site, or to spread the word about our plight on FaceBook, or finish setting up my YouTube channel. You think maybe I have too many things going at one time? I sure do and considering that I’m dumb as a rock when it comes to computers, I also think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Since what I seem to say the most is “I HATE COMPUTERS!”, I’ve already instructed friends and family to put it on my headstone. Even though I couldn’t live without Google’s search engine, I have to say that all other Google things have become the bane of my life. I’m sure they feel that way about me by now, too. Their hearts probably sink every time they see another post from me in the Help forum. But I am determined, so much so that I chose DeterminedDaughter as my YouTube username. Of course, I have to get my account to register before I can use it but that's another story. What a hoot.

I was thinking about what my determination to care for and protect Mom has made possible for me to cope with over the years and decided that’s what I would share with you tonight. Now understand, I am not complaining nor saying “Oh, poor me.” As I’ve said before, what I’ve done and do is of my own choosing, not only when it comes to taking care of Mom but also in what I’ve been willing to deprive myself of.

Let’s see. I haven’t been out in the evening for a little over five years, unless you want to count walking the garbage to the end of our walkway and dropping it in down the shoot. I’ve gone out to dinner four times in eight years, the last time being five years ago. I’ve gone out for lunch five times, the last being four years ago, and then only across the street to the Irish pub. I haven’t been to the mall in five years, and have limited my shopping since then to Walmart, where I buy a lot of Mom’s supplies. Haven’t even done that in six months. I’ve visited my friend Bill for a haircut at his salon three times in eight years. No, my hair isn’t dragging the floor because he normally comes here and cuts Mom’s hair and mine. The salon visits were just rare treats. I love music but never get to listen to it because it agitates Mom and we don't want to go there! I rarely get to watch TV until Jay Leno comes on, sometimes not even then because the nights are busy with Mom things.

I haven’t had a steak, which you’d never believe how much I love, for five years because I won’t pay the price at the grocery store. I order pizza maybe twice a year when I can’t go without it any longer, and pick up a McDonald’s cheeseburger and small fries to eat on my way home from Walmart when I can’t do without a cheeseburger any longer either. What did I say about six months? I should add that I only do that on Thursdays because that’s 39-cent cheeseburger day. God bless McDonald’s!

I always loved clothes and shoes and handbags and jewelry, you know, all the girly stuff. Those delights ended, too, and I’ve been perfectly satisfied with a couple pairs of new jeans, a few T-shirts, and even fewer nightclothes and slippers in the past eight years. I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but it’s the way it is and people rarely see me out, so what the heck. I always had to have the latest colors in nail polish but never use it because I can’t keep in on because my hands are always in water. I wouldn’t go out of the house without makeup but now throw on a little lipstick and hide the rest behind sunglasses. That’s another one of those what-the-heck things because I don’t have time to worry with it or about it. I’ve adopted the attitude that if you don’t like what you see, look the other way because this is a good as it’s gonna get!

Does all this bother me? Sometimes, especially the steak, but only for a minute. I know it’s what I had and have to do to make our money stretch farther. Mom’s supplies are costly, and keeping a roof over our head has always been paramount, so giving up things I really don’t need comes easily. We’re all willing to sacrifice for the people we love and if we aren’t, well, then I’d say we loved ourselves more than we did them. I’ve been told that giving up so much is unhealthy, but I don’t feel any the less healthy. In fact, I feel good knowing that I do what I should be doing. It’s that simple.

It isn’t about me anymore. My priorities have changed and I’ll have time for me again when Mom and I have reached the end of our journey. For now it’s about her, and if it takes all my time and energy to take care of her, so be it. It has to be done. And if I have to do without things, so be it. She’s more important than any selfish want or need. For me, that truth will not change, and I’m glad. How I’m going to find a solution to our financial problem, I don’t know. But I know I’m not going to give up trying. I’m determined to keep at it until they drag us both kicking and screaming out the door. The stakes are too high. Mom’s continued good health for her age, her mental health and well being, her safety, her sense of security, her happiness – those are the stakes, and none could be higher.

Till next time,
Sharon

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Poor Mother Has Had It!

We’ve had quite a time here the last few days. There has been a constant turnover of nurse's aides for weeks now ever since I made the decision not to waste any more time on someone I felt could not or would not do a good job. I knew it would be hard on both Mother and me, but I have to admit that I wore out from the stress of it before she did.

Strangers always upset her. They frighten her, and their presence often makes her think something is wrong with her or even that she’s dying. She becomes angry, anxious, agitated, and then manic. But she coped well this time until last Thursday when she finally decided she’d had enough.

There was another new face here that morning, another strange voice, and she finally reached her limit. Even through the aide and I weren’t talking loudly, we were still talking, and her normal routine was interrupted once again. She’d listened to me repeat every little detail about her far too many times, and felt unfamiliar hands gripping her and putting pressure on places where pressure needed to be avoided because of her broken hips. She’d been awkwardly turned, put in uncomfortable positions, and everything pertaining to her care had taken three times longer than it should because someone was trying to learn. She’d been bothered when she needed to be left alone and left alone when she needed attention, all in the name of practice. She was exhausted, and I know every bone in her body must have ached from excessive handling, and all I could do was keep saying I was sorry. Her only defense was to do the one thing she knows to do and that was to erupt in anger and frustration, and to such a degree that she lost what little self-control she possessed. She yelled and fussed in varying degrees until 1:30am Friday morning before complete exhaustion and fretful sleep finally overtook her.

She slept all day Friday, which is normal after exerting so much energy to agitation. She woke in a fog on Saturday so I decided to take advantage of her lethargic state. I cut and filed her fingernails, gave her a mini facial, scrubbed her from head to toe, then massaged lotion into her damp skin. She came out of her fog during all that and grew more and more relaxed as I worked my way through her care, which was what I hoped for. It worked. She was happy, content, and loving the remainder of the weekend. I kept the house quiet, even turned down a visit from a good friend. That worked, too. She rested well, ate well, and made good conversation. She was Mother, and her days were good ones like I always hope they will be.

But Monday came all too soon and even though the aide and I did everything right, her agitation returned intermittently throughout the day and evening. In fact, she was still saying “Oh, God!” and “Gosh darn it!” with great gusto at 1am this morning, which I knew was not a good sign. Sure enough, she’s hollered her way through most of this day and is well on her way to a full blown manic attack as of this minute. I’ve just given her extra medication, which is all she can have for the remainder of the night. Now all I can do is leave her alone and hope the medication will help. If not, we’re in for a long night.

Bless her heart. The way she suffers with the ravages of dementia is far worse than the physical pain she’d endured. And they have never found a medication that helps her. Of course, no one has ever gone beyond the five or six meds normally used for dementia patients and why I do not know. I’ve had to learn to accept that things as they are and to deal with them the best way I can. So we’ll make it through this night like we’ve made it through so many others, and always with the hope that she’ll come out on the other side.

Till next time,
Sharon