Today was my birthday and the matriarch was horribly upset she didn't get me a card.
Now, the history of the birthday card is long but short: my husband and I have been together for 19 years, we dated for 2, total of 21 years together, for better or for worse. Only once has my mother-in-law ever thought about getting me a birthday card; that one time would be this year. I know it is not personal; even if it was, it doesn't matter; it is not like I was expecting one. But, holy crow, did she get mad at my husband for not getting me one!
It is not often I hear the matriarch get vocally loud and angry at someone other than me. I know I never hear her say my husband has done anything wrong. But today, boy oh boy, I almost took secret pleasure in knowing my mother-in-law was upset at someone other than me. It was almost a birthday wish watching my husband listen to his mother and then complain to me and me being able to say, "Don't take it so personally; it's not like it matters."
It is so difficult to navigate this road of my mother-in-law being this lady capable of self-responsibility and also being this person, at times, almost careless with their independence and so desperately needy. Had the matriarch suggested to my husband to pick me up a card, it wouldn't have been a problem. My husband did not even remotely consider that I wouldn't even think to pick up a birthday card for my self on my mother-in-law's behalf. The point being, of course, had the matriarch asked either of us to pick up a card, or had she even asked one of the children to buy a card, it would have been done. But we can't just assume to know what she wants because there are those times that have happened when we acted on an assumption and were wrong. For example, I have already taken the matriarch to the store to buy my child's birthday card and the date is in December. It is so easy to recognize this strange state of knowing what the matriarch wants once it has passed; I can almost tell instinctively when the woman is hungry--yes, it is all the time and as long as sugar is involved, there is never a problem; but, for my husband, dealing with his mother is more difficult and more cerebral. He cannot read her mind. I wonder as I write this if nurses in old age homes ever have to navigate this confusing loss of independence. It is a loss, after all, it is not like the matriarch can just act on any of her wants; she must always wait for someone else to be available to satisfy them. One doesn't know what to do to empathize with the situation....
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Trouble with Food
The matriarch has no teeth--not a problem. The matriarch loves sugar--again, no problem. But, as my mother-in-law ages, I notice she spits out less if she eats porridges, stews, and soups. But, she really prefers food she can chew. It is not a pleasant sight and for the sake of the family I make my mother-in-law wet foods; she can't quite see what we are eating, but she knows she is eating something different. I cannot imagine what it is like for her: on one level, I know she enjoys the food I make her because she eats it all but, on a different level, I know she resents the fact I make her meals differently from the rest. And, I know she wants something to get her gums into as well...
The problems are a little more serious than just the spectacle of the solid food spat out. When a very old person is unable to chew their solid food, they swallow it whole and are then unable to digest it. They become gaseous and while it is funny to hear my mother-in-law tooting like a choo-choo train, it is extremely embarrassing for her. So, I know I am right for the body when I make her the softer foods; it is not so positive for the ego. I know my mother-in-law is angry she cannot chew foods properly; Saturday's lunch with my husband is becoming just awful. She pretends to be full and he is now eating 2 fish and chip dinners for Saturday lunch and that ignites a whole other set of problems with no possibility of resolution: no family dinner Saturday nights because he is too full, my children usually cook Saturday nights so he is not impressing them, the lunch is a lot of fried foods which is not good for his health (yes, he could throw it out but his mother doesn't believe in wasting food and, until we know for sure she is blind, the woman is treated, for the most part, as though she can see--yes, yes, I know a grown man still listening to his mother but she is almost 100 and used to getting her own way!)
When I brought her strawberries up to my mother-in-law this evening, I could hear her stomach rumbling. I don't know if she was hungry or if it was gas or what; she dug into the strawberries as soon as I left the room. So much of an older person's life is encouraging them do what they want for as long as they want and so much of it is trying to know when they no longer know what it is they want. I find the longer the matriarch is here the more patience I am developing and the less hopeless I feel. I am not being negative when I say I can feel her dying; I don't want her to die: I just see and feel her slipping away lately. I don't know what that means, really. It is like my children, one day they were babies and then, almost suddenly, they are not; my mother-in-law is here and an annoyance and something of a burden and all of a sudden, she is not. I heard her muttering under her breath at me the other day when I couldn't take her out for the afternoon; I looked at her and I felt so much love it was ridiculous. And, I know she has gone through my purse again and I know she has some other quirks but I keep thinking, maybe realizing for once in my thick skull, so what? At the end, what does it all matter, really? What does it matter to me? My husband just shakes his head and watches "Jeopardy" with his mother before he goes to work and tells the children they can make him breakfast on Sundays.
The problems are a little more serious than just the spectacle of the solid food spat out. When a very old person is unable to chew their solid food, they swallow it whole and are then unable to digest it. They become gaseous and while it is funny to hear my mother-in-law tooting like a choo-choo train, it is extremely embarrassing for her. So, I know I am right for the body when I make her the softer foods; it is not so positive for the ego. I know my mother-in-law is angry she cannot chew foods properly; Saturday's lunch with my husband is becoming just awful. She pretends to be full and he is now eating 2 fish and chip dinners for Saturday lunch and that ignites a whole other set of problems with no possibility of resolution: no family dinner Saturday nights because he is too full, my children usually cook Saturday nights so he is not impressing them, the lunch is a lot of fried foods which is not good for his health (yes, he could throw it out but his mother doesn't believe in wasting food and, until we know for sure she is blind, the woman is treated, for the most part, as though she can see--yes, yes, I know a grown man still listening to his mother but she is almost 100 and used to getting her own way!)
When I brought her strawberries up to my mother-in-law this evening, I could hear her stomach rumbling. I don't know if she was hungry or if it was gas or what; she dug into the strawberries as soon as I left the room. So much of an older person's life is encouraging them do what they want for as long as they want and so much of it is trying to know when they no longer know what it is they want. I find the longer the matriarch is here the more patience I am developing and the less hopeless I feel. I am not being negative when I say I can feel her dying; I don't want her to die: I just see and feel her slipping away lately. I don't know what that means, really. It is like my children, one day they were babies and then, almost suddenly, they are not; my mother-in-law is here and an annoyance and something of a burden and all of a sudden, she is not. I heard her muttering under her breath at me the other day when I couldn't take her out for the afternoon; I looked at her and I felt so much love it was ridiculous. And, I know she has gone through my purse again and I know she has some other quirks but I keep thinking, maybe realizing for once in my thick skull, so what? At the end, what does it all matter, really? What does it matter to me? My husband just shakes his head and watches "Jeopardy" with his mother before he goes to work and tells the children they can make him breakfast on Sundays.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Issues at the Blood Clinic
I hate taking my 99 year old mother-in-law to the blood clinic. It is clinically clean, politically polite, and absolutely awful. People are numbers; they are poked and prodded and they are so patient and extremely nice waiting in line. And, I try really hard to say the nurses are more than obliging but, really, they do anything to keep tempers down and the line constantly moving. It is like we are all bits in a moving machine--wait here, go to station 'A,' move on to station 'B,' wait there, get pricked here, please leave without interfering with anyone else's turn. It is absolutely impersonal and the nurses call everyone 'dear' with the same sort of insincerity. I hate being there.
The fellow next to us in line today was chatty. I think he was scared; the matriarch thought he was trying to pick her up; he was probably just passing the time in the seemingly endless wait. Three times he told us he hadn't eaten for twelve hours and that he had brought a sandwich to eat after his blood test. Three times he told us. And, there was nothing for the nurses to do but keep the machine wheels turning and this poor man standing hungry in line. I am beginning to reconsider this whole medical machine. If anyone had been sick in the clinic, my mother-in-law would have caught it; I just don't think this is worth it. I cannot make my mother-in-law's medical decisions but I can make my own and I just can't see trying to continue my life in this manner. I would rather have someone who has sincerity and sympathy care for me and make a mistake than to have someone pretend to enjoy keeping me alive. I don't know--it was horrendous being at the clinic this morning.
And, the fellow in line was younger than me so I am pretty sure, despite my mother-in-law's view, he wasn't looking for a 99 year old girlfriend. I hope we do not see him again (and that his health is good.)
The fellow next to us in line today was chatty. I think he was scared; the matriarch thought he was trying to pick her up; he was probably just passing the time in the seemingly endless wait. Three times he told us he hadn't eaten for twelve hours and that he had brought a sandwich to eat after his blood test. Three times he told us. And, there was nothing for the nurses to do but keep the machine wheels turning and this poor man standing hungry in line. I am beginning to reconsider this whole medical machine. If anyone had been sick in the clinic, my mother-in-law would have caught it; I just don't think this is worth it. I cannot make my mother-in-law's medical decisions but I can make my own and I just can't see trying to continue my life in this manner. I would rather have someone who has sincerity and sympathy care for me and make a mistake than to have someone pretend to enjoy keeping me alive. I don't know--it was horrendous being at the clinic this morning.
And, the fellow in line was younger than me so I am pretty sure, despite my mother-in-law's view, he wasn't looking for a 99 year old girlfriend. I hope we do not see him again (and that his health is good.)
Monday, October 11, 2010
A Little Old Granny
It is curious to me how people become old; do people not realize unless life changes them, the nature of their character is intact at some point and remains so until they die? If you have never baked cookies, what makes you think your senior years are going to be spent baking cookies for your grandchildren?
The matriarch was never a "baking cookies" sort of grandmother, but she did teach all my children to crochet, knit and embroider. She also taught my husband about pastry and he has taught the children and they are really good pastry chefs; I really mean that. I have eaten enough butter tarts to prove it.
But I wonder if we ever plan the kind of senior we want to be? I know people plan for retirement and for years after work, but that's all material...I don't know if we ever try to be the kind of people we want to be; I look in the mirror and I think of people I try to emulate and how faraway from the ideal I am and I wonder what goes on in other people's heads. The matriarch talked today about how people never call her and how they have forgotten her and I asked her whom she had called.
She went upstairs.
When I walked in on her later, the matriarch was sitting in her rocking chair having an argument with herself. She looked at me and then asked me to dial the phone for her; she wanted to call a friend who had been in hospital. I don't think people have forgotten the matriarch; she has never made an effort and, now, they don't. It is kind of sad, but there is a redeeming quality to it...the matriarch did telephone someone today, a small miracle. Maybe it is never too late to change.
The matriarch was never a "baking cookies" sort of grandmother, but she did teach all my children to crochet, knit and embroider. She also taught my husband about pastry and he has taught the children and they are really good pastry chefs; I really mean that. I have eaten enough butter tarts to prove it.
But I wonder if we ever plan the kind of senior we want to be? I know people plan for retirement and for years after work, but that's all material...I don't know if we ever try to be the kind of people we want to be; I look in the mirror and I think of people I try to emulate and how faraway from the ideal I am and I wonder what goes on in other people's heads. The matriarch talked today about how people never call her and how they have forgotten her and I asked her whom she had called.
She went upstairs.
When I walked in on her later, the matriarch was sitting in her rocking chair having an argument with herself. She looked at me and then asked me to dial the phone for her; she wanted to call a friend who had been in hospital. I don't think people have forgotten the matriarch; she has never made an effort and, now, they don't. It is kind of sad, but there is a redeeming quality to it...the matriarch did telephone someone today, a small miracle. Maybe it is never too late to change.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Just because she's old doesn't mean she's dependent...
The matriarch is old, that's it. She is not sick, she is not disabled (though one could argue blindness is a disability, the matriarch refuses to use a cane and hasn't fallen), she has mild, very mild, dementia. Some could argue the dementia is more like occasional forgetfulness--she does become confused when stressed but I could argue I have encountered younger people who have similar problems when they are stressed. It is called dementia when one is old.
Here is today's blog:
The matriarch's sister-in-law called to see how she was doing. The woman is spending Thanksgiving with some friends and popping over to St. Jacob's Market to do some shopping; she lives in Orangeville and the plans are to have a nice drive, lunch and some shopping. No, the matriarch is not going. She wasn't invited. We don't live close to either St. Jacob's or to Orangeville; it's the sister-in-law's social event; we do a Thanksgiving Dinner here with my parents; so, the matriarch told the sister-in-law she had cancer.
I beg your pardon? I said to the matriarch. You don't have cancer.
But, I did.
But, they cut it out and now, you don't.
But, the doctor said it was still there.
No, he did not. He said no such thing. You had colon cancer 8 years ago, they cut out a few inches of your colon and you are fine.
But, the doctor said it could come back.
Yes, he did. Are you in pain? Are you bleeding when you go to the bathroom?
No.
Well, then, chances are you don't have cancer. You shouldn't be telling people you have cancer when you don't.
But (name of sister-in-law) said she would come take me out for lunch. She said she is no longer tired since her operation. (The sister-in-law did have a lump removed and chemotherapy on her breast. She is 82 and doing fine.)
That has nothing do with the fact you don't have cancer and you can't tell people that you do.
Is this confusion or selfishness? The matriarch's sister-in-law is far more blunt; she told the matriarch, flat out, she wasn't coming to bring her to her house for a visit--she is too demanding a guest. And, while she would like to come up here to take the matriarch out to lunch, or out for a meal, she thinks the drive is too far right now. I know the woman is obsfucating; she doesn't want to go out with her sister-in-law; she is, at least, being polite about it. But the whole situation makes me wonder.
I heard this great radio program on CBC's "The Current" about a couple taking in the wife's elderly parents when the father had a stroke; the mother was already suffering from severe dementia. It was tragic and I admire the woman, her husband and her brother so much for what they did; but, the situation provoked me to consider the matriarch's situation. Illness changes the control issues. My mother-in-law is really, really old. She is not ill and the sympathy I have for her, at times, is overwhelmed by the fact a lot of her misery is of her own making. You cannot tell that to people. One must sow seeds when one is young--not just in terms of friendship but also in how one views the world. Maybe most people see the world in terms of themselves--but, then, they die so their perspective doesn't matter; but what about people who keep on living? My children cannot mention an activity they do that their grandmother hasn't already done or would never do; my parents, really, especially my mother, bend over backwards for the matriarch and she really doesn't appreciate it; and my poor husband, well, he gave up trying to please his mother years ago. I sometimes wonder at the matriarch and her sitting up in her room; she is a fully functional adult always looking to be entertained and I am this sycophant constantly failing to make her happy. Do we all become like this? I imagine it is this type of thinking that enables families to leave their parents in old age homes. But, then, I also wonder would the matriarch be happier to be neglected in a bureaucratic way? I like to think I try to do my best but, ultimately, I can only please the person in the mirror...and, trust me, she is not quite equal to the matriarch's wants.
Here is today's blog:
The matriarch's sister-in-law called to see how she was doing. The woman is spending Thanksgiving with some friends and popping over to St. Jacob's Market to do some shopping; she lives in Orangeville and the plans are to have a nice drive, lunch and some shopping. No, the matriarch is not going. She wasn't invited. We don't live close to either St. Jacob's or to Orangeville; it's the sister-in-law's social event; we do a Thanksgiving Dinner here with my parents; so, the matriarch told the sister-in-law she had cancer.
I beg your pardon? I said to the matriarch. You don't have cancer.
But, I did.
But, they cut it out and now, you don't.
But, the doctor said it was still there.
No, he did not. He said no such thing. You had colon cancer 8 years ago, they cut out a few inches of your colon and you are fine.
But, the doctor said it could come back.
Yes, he did. Are you in pain? Are you bleeding when you go to the bathroom?
No.
Well, then, chances are you don't have cancer. You shouldn't be telling people you have cancer when you don't.
But (name of sister-in-law) said she would come take me out for lunch. She said she is no longer tired since her operation. (The sister-in-law did have a lump removed and chemotherapy on her breast. She is 82 and doing fine.)
That has nothing do with the fact you don't have cancer and you can't tell people that you do.
Is this confusion or selfishness? The matriarch's sister-in-law is far more blunt; she told the matriarch, flat out, she wasn't coming to bring her to her house for a visit--she is too demanding a guest. And, while she would like to come up here to take the matriarch out to lunch, or out for a meal, she thinks the drive is too far right now. I know the woman is obsfucating; she doesn't want to go out with her sister-in-law; she is, at least, being polite about it. But the whole situation makes me wonder.
I heard this great radio program on CBC's "The Current" about a couple taking in the wife's elderly parents when the father had a stroke; the mother was already suffering from severe dementia. It was tragic and I admire the woman, her husband and her brother so much for what they did; but, the situation provoked me to consider the matriarch's situation. Illness changes the control issues. My mother-in-law is really, really old. She is not ill and the sympathy I have for her, at times, is overwhelmed by the fact a lot of her misery is of her own making. You cannot tell that to people. One must sow seeds when one is young--not just in terms of friendship but also in how one views the world. Maybe most people see the world in terms of themselves--but, then, they die so their perspective doesn't matter; but what about people who keep on living? My children cannot mention an activity they do that their grandmother hasn't already done or would never do; my parents, really, especially my mother, bend over backwards for the matriarch and she really doesn't appreciate it; and my poor husband, well, he gave up trying to please his mother years ago. I sometimes wonder at the matriarch and her sitting up in her room; she is a fully functional adult always looking to be entertained and I am this sycophant constantly failing to make her happy. Do we all become like this? I imagine it is this type of thinking that enables families to leave their parents in old age homes. But, then, I also wonder would the matriarch be happier to be neglected in a bureaucratic way? I like to think I try to do my best but, ultimately, I can only please the person in the mirror...and, trust me, she is not quite equal to the matriarch's wants.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
A Tragedy
Here is an article I found in today's Globe and Mail to continue information on the senior problem in Japan:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/asia-pacific/japanese-living-longer-lonelier/article1746791/
The article details the lack of accounting for seniors' situation in both social structure accounting and family obligation. I can only wonder why these situations arise although the article indicates men who have worked long hour are the ones mostly separated from their families. It is funny to think hours spent giving a family what they want (as opposed to what they need) may encourage little, if any, growth in family contact. I wonder how women will fair as the situation continues.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/asia-pacific/japanese-living-longer-lonelier/article1746791/
The article details the lack of accounting for seniors' situation in both social structure accounting and family obligation. I can only wonder why these situations arise although the article indicates men who have worked long hour are the ones mostly separated from their families. It is funny to think hours spent giving a family what they want (as opposed to what they need) may encourage little, if any, growth in family contact. I wonder how women will fair as the situation continues.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Casual Cruelties
A Doctor's appointment for a 'flu shot in November.
Mom, your hair looks great...from the back!
I think you'll regret taking out the bathtub in your bathroom. When you're old like me, you won't be as spry and will need baths over showers because you'll be so crippled up.
Steak dinners.
Is your Dad coming for lunch, too? I know your Mother wants to take me for lunch but I really don't like most of your family.
Roast Beef dinners.
I know I am not the brightest light in the chandelier; but, sadly, your power isn't even turned on...
The man at that Salon didn't cut my hair properly; he didn't even notice I was 99.
I am not blind; I just can't see.
A bowl full of brown sugar looks just like a bowl of porridge. Good thing the milk wasn't handy.
The ribs at Swiss Chalet aren't as tender as they used to be...everywhere I go the food has become so tough. Nothing tastes the same.
Roast Chicken dinners.
You make good soup; I can eat soup all the time now...just I get tired of tomato or chicken noodle and I don't like that stuff you make.
Why is this house always out of sugar?
Yes, I can go for a drive with you , we can go to Zehrs and you can pick me up some potato chips and Werther's Candies because I am all out. But I don't want to go in the store with you. I'll wait in the car and you can hurry.
Grandma is sleeping; do we have to wake her to go out?
Roast Pork dinners.
No one phones anymore; where do all the people go? I'd like some company now and then.
Sleeping in the basement, sitting at the side of the table rather than the head, being taken for granted by a selfish old woman...dreading the possibilities of the future.
An old age home: a senior sits by a window, blind to the sites outside her room, bereft of company at any meal, challenged to ever leave the place for a change. Whose hell is worse?
Mom, your hair looks great...from the back!
I think you'll regret taking out the bathtub in your bathroom. When you're old like me, you won't be as spry and will need baths over showers because you'll be so crippled up.
Steak dinners.
Is your Dad coming for lunch, too? I know your Mother wants to take me for lunch but I really don't like most of your family.
Roast Beef dinners.
I know I am not the brightest light in the chandelier; but, sadly, your power isn't even turned on...
The man at that Salon didn't cut my hair properly; he didn't even notice I was 99.
I am not blind; I just can't see.
A bowl full of brown sugar looks just like a bowl of porridge. Good thing the milk wasn't handy.
The ribs at Swiss Chalet aren't as tender as they used to be...everywhere I go the food has become so tough. Nothing tastes the same.
Roast Chicken dinners.
You make good soup; I can eat soup all the time now...just I get tired of tomato or chicken noodle and I don't like that stuff you make.
Why is this house always out of sugar?
Yes, I can go for a drive with you , we can go to Zehrs and you can pick me up some potato chips and Werther's Candies because I am all out. But I don't want to go in the store with you. I'll wait in the car and you can hurry.
Grandma is sleeping; do we have to wake her to go out?
Roast Pork dinners.
No one phones anymore; where do all the people go? I'd like some company now and then.
Sleeping in the basement, sitting at the side of the table rather than the head, being taken for granted by a selfish old woman...dreading the possibilities of the future.
An old age home: a senior sits by a window, blind to the sites outside her room, bereft of company at any meal, challenged to ever leave the place for a change. Whose hell is worse?
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Old and Fire Alarms
Christie Blatchford had an interesting article in today's Globe and Mail:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/christie-blatchford/verdict-in-seniors-home-fire-a-call-to-action-but-will-anyone-listen/article1739107/
It seems silly to have to commend a reporter and fire chief for writing about the obvious, but it is also silly to have to write fire protection protocols in senior housing or retirement homes are almost non-existent in homes older that 1997. People who live in houses, like me, are recommended to have fire alarms; why would the institutionalized be treated differently? Why would companies who run these homes argue against fire protection for the old and infirm? They argue it is too expensive to update their buildings? Why? Are these homes somehow different from the places in which the owners live?
And, as bad as the owners are, do family members not check to see if there are protections around for their elderly relative? Of course, I am being harsh. But society is judged by how it treats its very old and very young (and the infirm). To leave an elderly person without the most basic of protection, sprinklers in an old aged home, is a form of abuse; every family should at least check to see what the protocols are for fire. How do the old get out of a burning building? Who helps them in the case of an emergency? Why is it we think it doesn't matter in a seniors' building? Of course, it does; why wouldn't it?
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/christie-blatchford/verdict-in-seniors-home-fire-a-call-to-action-but-will-anyone-listen/article1739107/
It seems silly to have to commend a reporter and fire chief for writing about the obvious, but it is also silly to have to write fire protection protocols in senior housing or retirement homes are almost non-existent in homes older that 1997. People who live in houses, like me, are recommended to have fire alarms; why would the institutionalized be treated differently? Why would companies who run these homes argue against fire protection for the old and infirm? They argue it is too expensive to update their buildings? Why? Are these homes somehow different from the places in which the owners live?
And, as bad as the owners are, do family members not check to see if there are protections around for their elderly relative? Of course, I am being harsh. But society is judged by how it treats its very old and very young (and the infirm). To leave an elderly person without the most basic of protection, sprinklers in an old aged home, is a form of abuse; every family should at least check to see what the protocols are for fire. How do the old get out of a burning building? Who helps them in the case of an emergency? Why is it we think it doesn't matter in a seniors' building? Of course, it does; why wouldn't it?
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