The matriarch has a kidney infection. The Doctor prescribed antibiotics then said to the matriarch, and I quote, "You're going to be 99 on your next birthday. I hope I see you again before I die."
I think he caught himself before he said, "You die." What a stupid, stupid thing to say. He's a good doctor but not a geriatric specialist. You would think he would not make comments about birthdays and deaths around old people. You would think.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Things that Can't be Changed
Before our adventure down South, while in the car nonetheless, the matriarch revealed to me she thought she had a kidney infection. And, could I make her a doctor's appointment?
There occurred one of those pauses when I thought to myself, this is about to become one very, long drive. My husband shook his head. I said to the matriarch, because I was irritated, why didn't you tell me earlier in the week? I could have made you a doctor's appointment. Are you okay to drive to Waterloo?
The reality is the woman is an adult and she is allowed to make her own decisions; just because someone gets old and annoying, it doesn't mean I, another adult, have the right to take over all their decisions. I can't just suddenly to put aside the fact she is an adult. I am not allowed to suddenly act as though she doesn't have the rights and responsibilities of an adult. However, it does mean that I, another adult, am responsible for her decisions and their consequences. The best example is money; I cannot just go into the matriarch's account and withdraw money, it is her's therefore permission is required. And, she can buy a purple elephant for all she wants because, unless someone determines she is mentally unfit and should require guidance with her money, she can do whatever she wants with it. And, the purple elephant comes to my home. I don't care about the money. I do care about a 4 hour drive that is going to require a number of stops and the curiousity as to why the matriarch would want to come knowing she needs to keep having rest stops. Because the matriarch expects her meals to be made, in reality refuses to feed herself, and, because she will not stay with my parents, the matriarch forces my family to accept her decision to come to South Western Ontario with us and the consequence of having a four hour drive extended.
When we got home, at 9 o'clock in the evening, while eating dinner, I said to the matriarch, Why didn't you tell me about your kidney infection earlier in the week?
Because it was a sore back and I wasn't sure.
When were you sure?
Well, I always feel full after I pee like I still need to go. My bladder isn't emptying out.
How long has it been like this?
Ooh, I don't know since last week. No, wait for sure, I knew Wednesday for sure.
Why didn't you tell my husband and he could have taken you to the doctor's?
Well, you're (meaning me) so busy I didn't think you'd have time.
My husband could have made the appointment, at least. We will always take you to the doctor.
But you (meaning me) have so little time to go the doctor's.
So you decided to tell me today when you knew I had to go to Waterloo (the trip was for one of my children and canceling was not an option.) You told me in the car.
Well, you had to know.
You could have told me yesterday. You didn't have to come today. You could have stayed with my parents.
But I wanted the ride.
So, we enter into the paradox of age. An elderly adult just doesn't forfeit their independence and their right to make their own decisions. But, they also need help with their growing age and their acceptance of it. I think this paradox is going to become a bigger problem as more seniors, the baby boomers, become old. One cannot just say, this must be done and expect a senior to accept it.
There occurred one of those pauses when I thought to myself, this is about to become one very, long drive. My husband shook his head. I said to the matriarch, because I was irritated, why didn't you tell me earlier in the week? I could have made you a doctor's appointment. Are you okay to drive to Waterloo?
The reality is the woman is an adult and she is allowed to make her own decisions; just because someone gets old and annoying, it doesn't mean I, another adult, have the right to take over all their decisions. I can't just suddenly to put aside the fact she is an adult. I am not allowed to suddenly act as though she doesn't have the rights and responsibilities of an adult. However, it does mean that I, another adult, am responsible for her decisions and their consequences. The best example is money; I cannot just go into the matriarch's account and withdraw money, it is her's therefore permission is required. And, she can buy a purple elephant for all she wants because, unless someone determines she is mentally unfit and should require guidance with her money, she can do whatever she wants with it. And, the purple elephant comes to my home. I don't care about the money. I do care about a 4 hour drive that is going to require a number of stops and the curiousity as to why the matriarch would want to come knowing she needs to keep having rest stops. Because the matriarch expects her meals to be made, in reality refuses to feed herself, and, because she will not stay with my parents, the matriarch forces my family to accept her decision to come to South Western Ontario with us and the consequence of having a four hour drive extended.
When we got home, at 9 o'clock in the evening, while eating dinner, I said to the matriarch, Why didn't you tell me about your kidney infection earlier in the week?
Because it was a sore back and I wasn't sure.
When were you sure?
Well, I always feel full after I pee like I still need to go. My bladder isn't emptying out.
How long has it been like this?
Ooh, I don't know since last week. No, wait for sure, I knew Wednesday for sure.
Why didn't you tell my husband and he could have taken you to the doctor's?
Well, you're (meaning me) so busy I didn't think you'd have time.
My husband could have made the appointment, at least. We will always take you to the doctor.
But you (meaning me) have so little time to go the doctor's.
So you decided to tell me today when you knew I had to go to Waterloo (the trip was for one of my children and canceling was not an option.) You told me in the car.
Well, you had to know.
You could have told me yesterday. You didn't have to come today. You could have stayed with my parents.
But I wanted the ride.
So, we enter into the paradox of age. An elderly adult just doesn't forfeit their independence and their right to make their own decisions. But, they also need help with their growing age and their acceptance of it. I think this paradox is going to become a bigger problem as more seniors, the baby boomers, become old. One cannot just say, this must be done and expect a senior to accept it.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
William Faulkner
We have to go on an 2 hour drive to Southwestern Ontario and my husband decided to invite his mother. It is a one day trip, there and back. I begin to feel like a character out of "As I Lay Dying."
Monday, April 26, 2010
Iron: plus a passage to poverty
The matriarch has to increase the amount of Cumidin she takes. If any drug is an annoyance, it is this one and, remember, the matriarch takes it purely for preventive care. No one wants her to survive a stroke. She has survived cancer, divorce, deaths and the Depression; she's never had a stroke or a heart attack and, apparently, she could have one. At 98, she's been there, done that for most things, I don't think a stroke is in her future but I am not a doctor and we do listen to him. And, we have to resolve this Cumidin issue. The doctor's office has phoned twice today to discuss the matriarch's diet: does she eat leafy greens? Has she had any spinach? I have been her main caregiver for 10 years, 2 full-time; I know the regime and no green vegetables at all can be eaten. I don't know why the matriarch's blood won't thin.
I asked the nurse if sugar can affect the blood thinner because the matriarch eats a lot of sugar; the nurse told me sugar could affect the matriarch's blood glucose levels. She could have diabetes; I said I don't think so because she has eaten this much sugar for a long time and has never had high blood sugar. Then we got into a discussion about how seniors lose their taste buds and, maybe, the matriarch wants a stronger taste. I replied one would think her desire for taste would also extend to salt--not so. The matriarch eats sugar like it is going out of style and the nurse found it hard to believe we go through pounds of sugar on an almost weekly basis. I didn't tell her about the matriarch's secret stashes of Werther's Caramels either. We have to continue with the weekly blood tests. They are an inconvenience.
On another note, I had to take my oldest child to get a Social Insurance Number today and, while at the government offices, I asked about benefits for full-time caregivers. My girlfriend had recently heard I could get benefits and should look into it.
Question: Have you lately been employed? No.
No qualification for Employment coverage which I could get if I had to leave my job to take care of the matriarch.
Question: Is the senior in question ill? No.
No qualification for additional benefit because there is no coverage for seniors who are just old and not ill; the matriarch won't accept her eyesight as a disability and, therefore, has not been labeled legally blind and entitled to handicapped benefits.
Question: Do you work from home or run a small business? No.
No qualification for time needed to be spent away from my own business interests and therefore no entitlement to compensation.
Question: Does the government take stay-at-home moms for granted and not compensate them for taking care of their children, their elderly loved ones or volunteering in their community? Yes.
Good thing I don't get sick.
I asked the nurse if sugar can affect the blood thinner because the matriarch eats a lot of sugar; the nurse told me sugar could affect the matriarch's blood glucose levels. She could have diabetes; I said I don't think so because she has eaten this much sugar for a long time and has never had high blood sugar. Then we got into a discussion about how seniors lose their taste buds and, maybe, the matriarch wants a stronger taste. I replied one would think her desire for taste would also extend to salt--not so. The matriarch eats sugar like it is going out of style and the nurse found it hard to believe we go through pounds of sugar on an almost weekly basis. I didn't tell her about the matriarch's secret stashes of Werther's Caramels either. We have to continue with the weekly blood tests. They are an inconvenience.
On another note, I had to take my oldest child to get a Social Insurance Number today and, while at the government offices, I asked about benefits for full-time caregivers. My girlfriend had recently heard I could get benefits and should look into it.
Question: Have you lately been employed? No.
No qualification for Employment coverage which I could get if I had to leave my job to take care of the matriarch.
Question: Is the senior in question ill? No.
No qualification for additional benefit because there is no coverage for seniors who are just old and not ill; the matriarch won't accept her eyesight as a disability and, therefore, has not been labeled legally blind and entitled to handicapped benefits.
Question: Do you work from home or run a small business? No.
No qualification for time needed to be spent away from my own business interests and therefore no entitlement to compensation.
Question: Does the government take stay-at-home moms for granted and not compensate them for taking care of their children, their elderly loved ones or volunteering in their community? Yes.
Good thing I don't get sick.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Life is What You Make It....
The difference between this woman and my mother-in-law is phenomenal. Life really is what you make it:
The woman is 92 and she is dancing with her 29 year old grandson.
The woman is 92 and she is dancing with her 29 year old grandson.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
A Debate With Anna Maria Tremonti
This morning, there was a great show on CBC's The Current about the current situation of baby boomers caring for their elderly parents; here is the web address:
http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/ April 22 show part 3
For the most part, I agreed with a lot of what was discussed; there is an inherent sense of obligation to take care of one's elderly parents. I mean that is what drives my husband and me to take care of his mother. The matriarch may drive me crazy but she is my husband's mother and she has that right--I don't want to get into mother-in-law jokes and the role of the wife, I feel a sense of duty to her. Enough said about the matriarch and me.
But, here is my problem with Anna Maria Tremonti's discussion on the radio: how do children who have been raised in institutions develop their familial obligations? Okay, no one wants to call daycares or schools actual institutions, but that is what they are, I think. But my thinking goes like this: if a child is cared for by people other than family members and is taught by people other than family members, how do they develop a sense of family obligation if, in fact, they have never actually, continually, had a sense of family?
I would think it would be easier for such children to institutionalize their elderly parents rather than care for them themselves. After all, it was what they have been taught. I mean already a lot of abuse already goes on in senior centres; seniors are medicated more often when they are in homes; although, I only have anecdotal evidence. But my point is, just as in schools with two types of children, there are two types of seniors: ones who have caring families and ones who don't. And, the ones who have caring families will do fine but the others....If a child has been left in unacceptable care, why would parents think or expect their situation in the future to be different? I think it unfair for society to be expecting children who have not been cared for to suddenly step up to the plate to care for their elderly parents.
http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/ April 22 show part 3
For the most part, I agreed with a lot of what was discussed; there is an inherent sense of obligation to take care of one's elderly parents. I mean that is what drives my husband and me to take care of his mother. The matriarch may drive me crazy but she is my husband's mother and she has that right--I don't want to get into mother-in-law jokes and the role of the wife, I feel a sense of duty to her. Enough said about the matriarch and me.
But, here is my problem with Anna Maria Tremonti's discussion on the radio: how do children who have been raised in institutions develop their familial obligations? Okay, no one wants to call daycares or schools actual institutions, but that is what they are, I think. But my thinking goes like this: if a child is cared for by people other than family members and is taught by people other than family members, how do they develop a sense of family obligation if, in fact, they have never actually, continually, had a sense of family?
I would think it would be easier for such children to institutionalize their elderly parents rather than care for them themselves. After all, it was what they have been taught. I mean already a lot of abuse already goes on in senior centres; seniors are medicated more often when they are in homes; although, I only have anecdotal evidence. But my point is, just as in schools with two types of children, there are two types of seniors: ones who have caring families and ones who don't. And, the ones who have caring families will do fine but the others....If a child has been left in unacceptable care, why would parents think or expect their situation in the future to be different? I think it unfair for society to be expecting children who have not been cared for to suddenly step up to the plate to care for their elderly parents.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My Husband Hates Fish'n'Chips
Yet again, my husband took his mother out for fish and chips. She wants so little and we are all beginning to loathe what little we have to do. I can handle the medical aspects to the matriarch's life and her more prosaic needs but it is so hard to have to invite her to do things, anything, all the time. She is an old woman but she seems to want nothing until I ask her...and then she wants whatever I have to offer. My husband suggests I offer her nothing. But, then, she just sits up in her room and I feel guilty. So, we do the drives and the lunches and the blood clinics and the shopping; I do get her out a lot. I do try. But, as my husband says, it is not her fault she is not the kind of grandmother I would have dreamed of. Other people cannot live up to my definitions and I shouldn't expect it.
How do old people change? Or do they just become more defined images of themselves--like a person with sharper edges, a clearer picture of what they have always been? What will I be like when I am old? The matriarch just expects me to cater to her; I just know what she wants and can fulfill her desires. Will I expect the same of my child? How can I prevent it? I still refuse to believe all old people somehow evolve this way and become desirous of always being the centre of attention; I tend to think people, like the matriarch, who are selfish have always wanted to be the centre of attention. She was the baby of her family and maybe was the centre of her family's eye; I don't know. I make up reasons for her selfishness.
Tomorrow, we go to my child's piano recital and, then, the hair salon.
How do old people change? Or do they just become more defined images of themselves--like a person with sharper edges, a clearer picture of what they have always been? What will I be like when I am old? The matriarch just expects me to cater to her; I just know what she wants and can fulfill her desires. Will I expect the same of my child? How can I prevent it? I still refuse to believe all old people somehow evolve this way and become desirous of always being the centre of attention; I tend to think people, like the matriarch, who are selfish have always wanted to be the centre of attention. She was the baby of her family and maybe was the centre of her family's eye; I don't know. I make up reasons for her selfishness.
Tomorrow, we go to my child's piano recital and, then, the hair salon.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Blindness and Cinnamon Rolls
The visit to the doctor's went as expected but for one thing: the matriarch's sight hasn't changed. Either we really haven't noticed her blindness or the doctor is no longer measuring it because she is almost blind; I don't know. He is now looking for cataracts on her "good" eye because there is pressure there and it needs to be monitored. My husband imagines the doctor couldn't believe he still had the matriarch as a patient; we have another appointment in a few months. Either way, the matriarch wasn't happy but she was prepared for her depression; the doctor is not a nice man and I had reminded her not to take him too personally. You would think they would teach compassion somehow in Medical schools.
On Saturday, my youngest child made an absolutely lovely meal which concluded with homemade Cinnamon Rolls; the matriarch couldn't eat them. But she tried. And she spat the dough out. And it was gross. And, I refuse to believe her behaviour is age related; she was more like a petulant child than a senior and, as far as I'm concerned, there was no excuse for it. Once she had tried the bun, bit it and realized she couldn't chew it, the matriarch didn't need to keep eating. I always have sweets around; there were alternatives. But she tried to eat half the bun before she gave up. Two thoughts, obviously resulted: 1) the Cinnamon Buns were really good (which they were) and 2) the matriarch does not go down without a fight. I just wish I wasn't always the one to have to clean it up.
The whole eating thing is getting worse and I wish, for my own sanity, the woman would give up on harder, solid foods. The matriarch can eat toast and well-cooked meats; vegetables have to be boiled to mush and fruit made into a syrupy mass; she loves her soups. Why then does she continue to want more solid food? We all know she cannot eat it and, if she does manage to get it down, the result is always incredible indigestion. I have heard the woman belch an opera. I know she gets angry when she notices the children, in particular, are eating something I have not offered her and I know if she does not chew, she will lose the capability of her jaw and gums. But I also know her stomach cannot accept unchewed food. What a mess. The matriarch does not want a constant soup or stew diet. The doctor really does not know what to suggest; she has a good diet, despite her preferences for sugar on everything, and she should try to chew food. Arguing it's the not-chewing that is irritating me is irrelevant. Basically, I have to suck (metaphorically speaking) it up, or rather clean it up.
On Saturday, my youngest child made an absolutely lovely meal which concluded with homemade Cinnamon Rolls; the matriarch couldn't eat them. But she tried. And she spat the dough out. And it was gross. And, I refuse to believe her behaviour is age related; she was more like a petulant child than a senior and, as far as I'm concerned, there was no excuse for it. Once she had tried the bun, bit it and realized she couldn't chew it, the matriarch didn't need to keep eating. I always have sweets around; there were alternatives. But she tried to eat half the bun before she gave up. Two thoughts, obviously resulted: 1) the Cinnamon Buns were really good (which they were) and 2) the matriarch does not go down without a fight. I just wish I wasn't always the one to have to clean it up.
The whole eating thing is getting worse and I wish, for my own sanity, the woman would give up on harder, solid foods. The matriarch can eat toast and well-cooked meats; vegetables have to be boiled to mush and fruit made into a syrupy mass; she loves her soups. Why then does she continue to want more solid food? We all know she cannot eat it and, if she does manage to get it down, the result is always incredible indigestion. I have heard the woman belch an opera. I know she gets angry when she notices the children, in particular, are eating something I have not offered her and I know if she does not chew, she will lose the capability of her jaw and gums. But I also know her stomach cannot accept unchewed food. What a mess. The matriarch does not want a constant soup or stew diet. The doctor really does not know what to suggest; she has a good diet, despite her preferences for sugar on everything, and she should try to chew food. Arguing it's the not-chewing that is irritating me is irrelevant. Basically, I have to suck (metaphorically speaking) it up, or rather clean it up.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Haiku for the Old
Snow
In the twilight
Of a winter day
Anger rushes in
Rain
It happens to all
Drenching the souls
Petals blow
In the twilight
Of a winter day
Anger rushes in
Rain
It happens to all
Drenching the souls
Petals blow
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
How the Aged Become Demanding
My parents suggest all seniors become demanding as they age; I disagree. The matriarch is demanding and her views are hardly unique, however, I prefer to think there are seniors different from her, who enjoy life and still see the world and share it. I would like to think the matriarch could choose not to continue to live this way. She could be happier.
In two days, we go to see the eye specialist and he is not a very nice man; he does not have a way with people, let alone very old seniors. The eye looks good to me; it doesn't weep, the matriarch gets her drops, and whenever we drive with the window down a bit, she puts on sun glasses. I doubt very much he'll tell us good news. I know the matriarch's sight has further declined and we now play a game of guessing what she can see and pretending when she cannot. I cut up her food most nights and she has her own set of salt and pepper shakers so she always knows where they are. The table is always set the same way so she can manoeuvre her setting pieces and know where things are. Although, despite my habits, I also suspect the mother-in-law of having an autonomic memory; even my husband finds it hard to believe she can find her way around the house, the grocery store and the doctor's office with her sight. She must remember every place to which she has been. I think we are both dreading Thursday's visit. When the doctor confirms the reality of blindness, the truth is going to be hard to swallow.
In two days, we go to see the eye specialist and he is not a very nice man; he does not have a way with people, let alone very old seniors. The eye looks good to me; it doesn't weep, the matriarch gets her drops, and whenever we drive with the window down a bit, she puts on sun glasses. I doubt very much he'll tell us good news. I know the matriarch's sight has further declined and we now play a game of guessing what she can see and pretending when she cannot. I cut up her food most nights and she has her own set of salt and pepper shakers so she always knows where they are. The table is always set the same way so she can manoeuvre her setting pieces and know where things are. Although, despite my habits, I also suspect the mother-in-law of having an autonomic memory; even my husband finds it hard to believe she can find her way around the house, the grocery store and the doctor's office with her sight. She must remember every place to which she has been. I think we are both dreading Thursday's visit. When the doctor confirms the reality of blindness, the truth is going to be hard to swallow.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
When not to Cook Steak
The matriarch couldn't eat the steak this evening; actually, I didn't even offer it to her and she knew and was unimpressed. She has no teeth. She cannot chew. For the past few Saturdays, I have made her a shepherd's pie for dinner; today, I did not. But I made her mashed potatoes, vegetables and a gravy; she spat nothing out and I thought everything was fine. But, the matriarch watched the children and my husband as they enjoyed their meat and became unhappy. I don't think she could actually see them; but, she listened. We go to see the eye specialist this week and I imagine he is going to confirm what I already know. She is almost completely blind. Anyhow, I served pie after dinner hoping to appease her. She ate the pie but didn't want a late night snack; I get the feeling the matriarch is disappointed. I don't know what to do for her. Steak is steak and needs to be chewed and I forgot to pick up ground beef. That's a lie. I accidentally put it in the freezer and remembered too late. But I cannot serve her food anymore that she cannot chew; the matriarch gets terrible indigestion and I think she enjoys her food more when she doesn't have to spit it out. She enjoys her breakfasts of moist cereals and always chooses soup for lunch; I honestly think she prefers a softer meal at dinner. Gosh, it feels wrong whatever I try to do for her. Tomorrow we go to Swiss Chalet.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Inspired by Actual Events
Blood clinic today except the sink in the bathroom is plugged; my turn to take the matriarch. Along the drive, my mother-in-law mentions, four times no less, how nice lunch was at the fish and chip restaurant with my husband yesterday. I nod. We go to the blood clinic, her blood is drawn and we drive home whereupon the matriarch again mentions the fish and chip shop.
"I can't take you for fish and chips, I'm making fish for supper."
The matriarch is a little perturbed, but we get home and I discover the sink in the bathroom is no longer plugged, but the bath and shower drain is. My husband is working on it in conjunction with a 3-D puzzle he has spread out on the dining room table. I am now a little perturbed.
The matriarch runs up to her room to wait for me to make her lunch and my attitude inspires my husband to go back upstairs to the washroom and take another look at the plumbing. The children are painting their Latin projects on my kitchen table. I make the children lunch, which they eat while avoiding paint and tell my husband I will take the children to piano and that I hope to return to a functioning shower. My mother-in-law comes down for lunch and reveals quite the concern for the non-functioning bath and shower drain. I leave with the children for piano only to return 3 hours later to discover my husband is now working on his mother's drains. Apparently, her drain is mildly plugged as well and my husband and I discover she has been stuffing something down her drain. Neither one of us wants to know what but my husband gets it cleaned out and tells the matriarch nothing goes down the drain but water. Only water. He means it.
With my non-functioning shower still on my mind, I give up on my husband and go out and get liquid plumber. Thankfully, my husband, who is obviously not a plumber, is a cook and the fish and, now apparently, chips are on for supper. He has gotten my oldest child to make home made coleslaw and a beautiful dinner is in preparation. Only when the shower drain is plugged,my youngest child's piano recital on in the morning (did I mention that commitment?) and Latin projects are due, would my husband choose to make a labour intensive meal. And, the matriarch comes down the stairs looking for someone to turn her television set on because on foggy days like this she cannot see--as opposed to those sunny days when she closes her blinds and can see. The liquid plumber does not work.
At 9 o'clock, I go out to get something else to try and unplug the drain, annoyance with my husband increasing by the second. He does the dishes with Johnson's baby shampoo because along with 2 bottles of liquid plumber not being in the house, we also have no dish washing liquid. He neglects to inform me of this before I go out the second time. The matriarch begins to pace because the fact we have no functioning shower and she does could mean intrusion into her private space. I return home to Latin projects in my dining room, a completed three dimensional puzzle of the Canadian House of Commons, dishes a bit weird and the matriarch saying we can use her shower in the morning. And, she goes to bed. No good nights for fear of showers, I think.
"I can't take you for fish and chips, I'm making fish for supper."
The matriarch is a little perturbed, but we get home and I discover the sink in the bathroom is no longer plugged, but the bath and shower drain is. My husband is working on it in conjunction with a 3-D puzzle he has spread out on the dining room table. I am now a little perturbed.
The matriarch runs up to her room to wait for me to make her lunch and my attitude inspires my husband to go back upstairs to the washroom and take another look at the plumbing. The children are painting their Latin projects on my kitchen table. I make the children lunch, which they eat while avoiding paint and tell my husband I will take the children to piano and that I hope to return to a functioning shower. My mother-in-law comes down for lunch and reveals quite the concern for the non-functioning bath and shower drain. I leave with the children for piano only to return 3 hours later to discover my husband is now working on his mother's drains. Apparently, her drain is mildly plugged as well and my husband and I discover she has been stuffing something down her drain. Neither one of us wants to know what but my husband gets it cleaned out and tells the matriarch nothing goes down the drain but water. Only water. He means it.
With my non-functioning shower still on my mind, I give up on my husband and go out and get liquid plumber. Thankfully, my husband, who is obviously not a plumber, is a cook and the fish and, now apparently, chips are on for supper. He has gotten my oldest child to make home made coleslaw and a beautiful dinner is in preparation. Only when the shower drain is plugged,my youngest child's piano recital on in the morning (did I mention that commitment?) and Latin projects are due, would my husband choose to make a labour intensive meal. And, the matriarch comes down the stairs looking for someone to turn her television set on because on foggy days like this she cannot see--as opposed to those sunny days when she closes her blinds and can see. The liquid plumber does not work.
At 9 o'clock, I go out to get something else to try and unplug the drain, annoyance with my husband increasing by the second. He does the dishes with Johnson's baby shampoo because along with 2 bottles of liquid plumber not being in the house, we also have no dish washing liquid. He neglects to inform me of this before I go out the second time. The matriarch begins to pace because the fact we have no functioning shower and she does could mean intrusion into her private space. I return home to Latin projects in my dining room, a completed three dimensional puzzle of the Canadian House of Commons, dishes a bit weird and the matriarch saying we can use her shower in the morning. And, she goes to bed. No good nights for fear of showers, I think.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
I Don't Live With Morrie
Somewhere in this house is the literary gem, "Tuesdays with Morrie." My mother gave it to me, I think, to help me cope with my mother-in-law. The matriarch is not the problem; I am the problem because most seniors, especially those lived with, are not Morrie. I never read the book but I believe the writer was a former student of Morrie's and they spent afternoons in intellectual and enlightening discussion. It wasn't always "Let's do lunch."
It has really begun to dawn on me, and let's face it, lately, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, that women, especially female caregivers, really have a rotten deal. Of course, my husband values what I am doing and, I imagine, my children do; however, I think people really don't understand when one says "No respite care," one means it. I don't think, other than fellow caregivers, most people understand that not leaving a senior alone for an extended time means I am on a time leash. It's not personal, it is just my responsibility for this woman does not end. Ever. Until she does. Sometimes, I don't realize how draining it can be on me until I have hit a wall and knock myself into despair.
Sometimes I wish I could appreciate my mother-in-law more. I wish I could like her more. Some days are easier than others; she is not a Morrie character--not even close. My friend's husband died unexpectedly this week; another friend's mother-in-law also passed away. The matriarch wanted to go to both funerals. I have this feeling Morrie wasn't the kind of guy who wanted to socialize at funerals. The matriarch probably isn't either; however, she either wanted to go for the food or to prove she is still alive. It is like a banner she wants to display: I'm still here (and you aren't). I don't know what she was thinking but my husband had to step in and explain she couldn't go. One of my children asked why grandma wasn't invited to the funeral. It's like a select group, only, gets to go to funerals and children and grannies aren't in it. Can you believe we actually had this discussion?
It has really begun to dawn on me, and let's face it, lately, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, that women, especially female caregivers, really have a rotten deal. Of course, my husband values what I am doing and, I imagine, my children do; however, I think people really don't understand when one says "No respite care," one means it. I don't think, other than fellow caregivers, most people understand that not leaving a senior alone for an extended time means I am on a time leash. It's not personal, it is just my responsibility for this woman does not end. Ever. Until she does. Sometimes, I don't realize how draining it can be on me until I have hit a wall and knock myself into despair.
Sometimes I wish I could appreciate my mother-in-law more. I wish I could like her more. Some days are easier than others; she is not a Morrie character--not even close. My friend's husband died unexpectedly this week; another friend's mother-in-law also passed away. The matriarch wanted to go to both funerals. I have this feeling Morrie wasn't the kind of guy who wanted to socialize at funerals. The matriarch probably isn't either; however, she either wanted to go for the food or to prove she is still alive. It is like a banner she wants to display: I'm still here (and you aren't). I don't know what she was thinking but my husband had to step in and explain she couldn't go. One of my children asked why grandma wasn't invited to the funeral. It's like a select group, only, gets to go to funerals and children and grannies aren't in it. Can you believe we actually had this discussion?
Friday, April 2, 2010
Fish and Chips and Chasing a Hearst
As it is Good Friday, I took the matriarch out to get fish and chips; it was take-out and we brought it home to eat and the matriarch didn't eat it. My husband thought nothing of this; I, on the other hand, suggested it was a bit odd.
My husband shook his head; he figures the matriarch ate the food she bought at the supermarket yesterday. I took her shopping and bought her chips and bananas, 11 bananas. Trying to buy bananas with a half blind 98 year old is an adventure in shopping few should experience. I don't know what the thing is about the bananas; but I am dreading the mother-in-law could get constipated. The only thing worse than a fluid system is a backed up one. Here's the thing: I know what causes the matriarch discomfort. I figure, as a grown adult, she knows, too. This begs the question: why does she do this to herself?
Now, the matriarch knows I do not keep her plate's leftovers--even if she asks me to keep them; she spits food out, nothing is kept. Ever. We've actually had to discuss this. It's been extremely warm, here, lately, but the matriarch still wants to wear her fur coat. She's still on the Cumidin so I know she feels the cold; however, my husband is worrying the matriarch is deliberately over-heating herself. The point I want to make is the woman is very old but she is an adult and capable of making her own decisions. The decisions can drive us crazy but she is allowed to make them; I want to figure out how to make her recognize the consequences. I have already reminded her that bananas cause her discomfort; my husband has asked her to wear her spring coat and she has chosen to ignore us both. When do old people start withdrawing from their maturity? It's not like it happens overnight or with advance warning; to some people, it never happens at all. The matriarch is almost 99, I guess it was bound to happen.
The hearst story will have to wait.
My husband shook his head; he figures the matriarch ate the food she bought at the supermarket yesterday. I took her shopping and bought her chips and bananas, 11 bananas. Trying to buy bananas with a half blind 98 year old is an adventure in shopping few should experience. I don't know what the thing is about the bananas; but I am dreading the mother-in-law could get constipated. The only thing worse than a fluid system is a backed up one. Here's the thing: I know what causes the matriarch discomfort. I figure, as a grown adult, she knows, too. This begs the question: why does she do this to herself?
Now, the matriarch knows I do not keep her plate's leftovers--even if she asks me to keep them; she spits food out, nothing is kept. Ever. We've actually had to discuss this. It's been extremely warm, here, lately, but the matriarch still wants to wear her fur coat. She's still on the Cumidin so I know she feels the cold; however, my husband is worrying the matriarch is deliberately over-heating herself. The point I want to make is the woman is very old but she is an adult and capable of making her own decisions. The decisions can drive us crazy but she is allowed to make them; I want to figure out how to make her recognize the consequences. I have already reminded her that bananas cause her discomfort; my husband has asked her to wear her spring coat and she has chosen to ignore us both. When do old people start withdrawing from their maturity? It's not like it happens overnight or with advance warning; to some people, it never happens at all. The matriarch is almost 99, I guess it was bound to happen.
The hearst story will have to wait.
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