Venting
Thing I hate, post two: another response I need to get off my chest as being cold, hurtful, and totally, absolutely, positively worthless as inspiration.
Background: A year and a half ago, I committed to coming to my mother to care for her after a lengthy hospital stay. She has scoliosis, osteoporosis, rheumatoid arthritis, osteoarthritis, fibromalgia, periferal neuropathy, hiatal hernia, kidney damage, COPD, silent aspiration, and the beginnings if dimentia. The last 8 months she has deteriorated rapidly, though I do all I can, 24 hours a day, to try to care for her, keep her comfortable, make sure she does whatever treatments are ordered, and has all the devices she needs to try to make things easier.
They (she and my stepdad) depend on me for decisions, finance management, insurance communication, groceries, cooking, diaper changes, rx's, bathing, medical decisions, etc. someone has to be a go between with doctors, nurses, and watch over care, pointing out things that may look normal, but aren't, make sure liquids are thickened, sleep in that bedside chair while she is in the hospital, decide monumental things like dnr/dni, handle the what ifs like final arrangements, and how to pay for it all, all the while maintaining a positive outlook for her and trying to inject harmony and laughter in an ongoing, sad situation. I'm glad for this time. My dad is gone. Someday my mother will be and I will no longer get to cut up her food, buy her bright pillowcases for her bed to make her smile, or hear her say she loves me, or tell her I love her, too. I truly cherish every good omens we can have, realizing, someday there will not be more.
The rub: That doesn't mean I don't get tired, depressed, and weary. It doesn't ran in what private moments I have that I don't feel weak and angry that I can't "fix" things. It doesn't mean I'm strong all the time and can smile and love this process of what is essentially hospice care. It doesn't mean it is not difficult trying to communicate with the family and make decisions that suit everyone, who all have different opinions. It doesn't mean I don't feel the heavy weight of the responsibility and worry and pray I choose right for her, don't miss anything. Finally, it doesn't mean I don't have to dig deeeeep to find the patience I didn't know I had and pray for a lot to handle the difficult times when she is confused, stubborn, difficult, anxious and depressed, panicking when I am not there every moment.
So, when someone asks me how I am holding up and I break down to release, sharing some of my frustrations and fatigue, it does NOT help to get back, "Well, you chose this, so you shouldn't complain."
That is all.
Background: A year and a half ago, I committed to coming to my mother to care for her after a lengthy hospital stay. She has scoliosis, osteoporosis, rheumatoid arthritis, osteoarthritis, fibromalgia, periferal neuropathy, hiatal hernia, kidney damage, COPD, silent aspiration, and the beginnings if dimentia. The last 8 months she has deteriorated rapidly, though I do all I can, 24 hours a day, to try to care for her, keep her comfortable, make sure she does whatever treatments are ordered, and has all the devices she needs to try to make things easier.
They (she and my stepdad) depend on me for decisions, finance management, insurance communication, groceries, cooking, diaper changes, rx's, bathing, medical decisions, etc. someone has to be a go between with doctors, nurses, and watch over care, pointing out things that may look normal, but aren't, make sure liquids are thickened, sleep in that bedside chair while she is in the hospital, decide monumental things like dnr/dni, handle the what ifs like final arrangements, and how to pay for it all, all the while maintaining a positive outlook for her and trying to inject harmony and laughter in an ongoing, sad situation. I'm glad for this time. My dad is gone. Someday my mother will be and I will no longer get to cut up her food, buy her bright pillowcases for her bed to make her smile, or hear her say she loves me, or tell her I love her, too. I truly cherish every good omens we can have, realizing, someday there will not be more.
The rub: That doesn't mean I don't get tired, depressed, and weary. It doesn't ran in what private moments I have that I don't feel weak and angry that I can't "fix" things. It doesn't mean I'm strong all the time and can smile and love this process of what is essentially hospice care. It doesn't mean it is not difficult trying to communicate with the family and make decisions that suit everyone, who all have different opinions. It doesn't mean I don't feel the heavy weight of the responsibility and worry and pray I choose right for her, don't miss anything. Finally, it doesn't mean I don't have to dig deeeeep to find the patience I didn't know I had and pray for a lot to handle the difficult times when she is confused, stubborn, difficult, anxious and depressed, panicking when I am not there every moment.
So, when someone asks me how I am holding up and I break down to release, sharing some of my frustrations and fatigue, it does NOT help to get back, "Well, you chose this, so you shouldn't complain."
That is all.
Replies
We need to choose wisely those people we confide in. Many will give back a thoughtless, cold remark along the lines of, \"You think you\'ve got it bad? You should have MY problems!\" When a close friend of mine passed away, this man said, indifferently, LIFE GOES ON. The body wasn\'t even cold yet and he made me feel that I was wallowing! So spare yourself the comments of people like Job\'s Wife in the Bible who said to him, \"Curse God and die.\" Real sweet lady. I know that as a caregiver to your Mom, you have an extremely difficult duty to perform. Probably the most arduous you will ever have. God bless you.