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Thankfully she was never really very religious, but if she foisted that book on me, I would've taken it and tossed it into the trash can right there in front of her!
One poster actually sounded like they are in the situation I am in - not care-giving, but taking care of everything else, and it is a lot! If she were easier to get along with I still could not fathom trying to manage all that AND her too. Much as I do not like the behavior (hulk) I find myself with those moments as well, just because every week there seems to be some new crap that needs to be dealt with. Taking over her finances was the easy part. Getting everything else done... not so much.
Anyway, kudos to those of you who are still slogging it out, I wish you the best and hope you survive it all and still have some kind of life left after it is over! I still say if I had to take her in, one of us would end up dead and it would likely be ME! For those of you who have finished or made other arrangements, I hope you also get to regroup and enjoy you new-found freedom.
The night before she started wrenching and gagging and “oh, I’m really not up to this.” Like what is there to be up to? You go. They check your feet. It’s not swimming the darn English Channel. I was taking her! Took off work for it. Get home to pick her up to discover she wasn’t going. Mind you, the doctors had just said she was okay. She has asthma, but she wants you to think every breath is a struggle. Until she thinks you can’t hear her.
I was so mad - and tired - and stressed by too many things. I went upstairs, changed clothes and left. I spent the next few hours getting in a good walk and treating myself to a good meal. I was still angry when I got home, but I realized that I can do that, walk away for a few hours, basically have a life. I’m 55, I don’t owe an explanation. I’m going to stop feeling guilty because she’s alone all day. We’ve looked into having someone come
I’m to help her with bathing, make sure she eats, that kind of thing. She won’t keep a service. She won’t participate in adult care, she complains about the service I have come in every few weeks to keep things manageable. But just because she’s antisocial doesn’t mean I am stuck. I can still have my life. Today, just leaving the house felt triumphant and was relaxed at the end (just a hard cider, I didn’t get crazy).
In a month I am getting away with girlfriends, getting a room in a charming small town where we can shop and talk and stay up
late like the sleepovers we had as kids. I’m lining up people to call and check on Mom, but it’s just a weekend and she has a Help I’ve fallen button. A weekend ... I have something to look forward to.
Gather those rosebuds, folks, and don’t let the guilt get to you. You need this.
I think most of us can relate to the demands of being a live-in care giver of an elderly demented parent. Each of us have vented our frustrations in our own way of the things that drive us crazy.
A lot of women (and some men), when they see someone struggling, want to "fix" the situation and "save" them from their distress (me included). The person venting may just need to get it off their chest and may not want or need to be "saved".
You have thought out your living situation in terms of practicality.
1. Your mom needs help. 2. You work from home. 3. If you weren't there, she'd need another c/g. 'Practically' speaking, you living with her makes sense. You mentioned that in 3 posts. But, just because it's practical, doesn't mean it's the BEST choice.
You mentioned that you've done endless giving and that she continues to feel like you "owe" her. Anyone would have ambivalent feelings under those circumstances. To add to it, you say your mom is confused and nags.
I understand you can't put a person in a NH or AL if they are of sound mind. Do you think your mom is of sound mind? Has she been tested for all the brain diseases?
You say you'd like to leave but it would create a lot of problems but you'll stay until it stops making sense. But which would be worse, the problems created by you moving or you being slowly driven mad. I know from where I speak. I put my mother in a facility after I hit her fingers for throwing a sandwich at me and spitting on the table. I could not "let it go" nor could I reel in my anger, even though I knew it wasn't "her doing it purposely". Caregivers have been known to snap.
Maybe what makes the most sense practically isn't the best for your mental health. It gets harder and harder to get David Banner back into his clothes.
Just a thought. No offense intended. Been there, done that.
Dana, I'm lucky because I can leave my mother alone for 2-4 hours as needed. The problem is that I have to come back. :( My mother can do things like use the bathroom by herself. She can also make a simple meal. She just has trouble with things that take reasoning and remembering to do them. I could probably stay out longer, but I want to be back in a reasonable amount of time in case she falls. She wouldn't be able to figure out to call 911 or me. She doesn't understand that she can call me on my cell. I don't know why.
It's good you're going back to the gym. I'm not ready for a senior center gym, but I will always keep my membership at the Y because I love the place. It's so easy to get trapped in the vicious cycle - physically and emotionally exhausted from caregiving, then not working out, then more exhaustion. Before becoming a caregiver, I ran half marathons. Now a one or two mile jog around the neighborhood is what I get, and an occasional gym day when I can get a sitter.
I promised my father that I would take care of my mother when he was dying of cancer, but I have convinced her to go to a nursing home for respite care when I had to travel for work - and last summer, I added some vacation to it, and I'm going to try to do that this summer too. I am also calm on the surface, and seething inside, because my whole life revolves around caregiving. I'm ashamed to admit that I resent caregiving - and my mother is easier than most, vascular dementia and severe arthritis, and I work 3 days a week so have a sitter those days. Today I actually was happy that the traffic was so bad because that gave me another hour of listening to music in the car before home to the mom shift.
It looks like I will spend more years taking care of my mother than I did raising my daughter. I've promised myself that I will not do this to her, and actually hope I get cancer so I can move to Oregon and end it - better than this long slow decline, and I do not ever want to be dependent on anyone else.
Doctors don't realize what we go through. My mother's doctor did compliment me on the care I provide, and said that she has patients with spousal caregivers who are really struggling, but I'm on more blood pressure medication than my mother. A therapist helps for someone to vent to, and I know others get help from antidepressants, but I can't tolerate SSRI's. A saving grace is a low dose antianxiety medication, which I take when my mother drives me up the proverbial wall.
I feel terrible about being so resentful. My mother has been good to me, and now it is my turn, but I am exhausted, and when it is all over, there won't be much of me left. All any of us can do is one day at a time try to hold on to our selves.
When she was in her mid 70's, she woke me up (I worked nights) to take her to the doctor. I lived 30 miles away. She had poked herself in the eye with a mascara brush! After asking the cursory questions (bleeding, unable to see or blurred vision, severe pain, leaking fluid from the eye), I gathered that she had done what most of us ladies have done when applying makeup. She insisted she needed to go to ER, and, if I wouldn't take her, she'd call an ambulance! I got up and took her. It was just a superficial scratch, the eye doc gave her drops to pacify her. Her "rationale" for this was, she read about a woman in NY that went blind after she used some old mascara. Dear God, come on! We'd ALL be blind.
Then at 80, she put me through 3 months of hell. I'll try to make it quick.
She started with pain between her legs (I'm thinking vaginal atrophy-(it dries up) she just needs some hormone cream). Went to GYN-everything fine. A week later, pain moved to lower abdomen. Went back to doc-got an ultrasound-everything fine. Pain moved to mid abdomen 2 weeks later. I suggested gas pills and stool softeners. Back to doc-some gastric test and x-rays preformed along with blood and urine tests-negative. 3 weeks later, pain is now at mid stomach. I'm beginning to get p**sed. What the heck is going on? How can pain travel upward through your body? I suggested antacids and Tylenol. Back to MD, did an upper GI-nothing. 2 weeks later, pain between breasts. (Chest pain-this has to be taken seriously due to her age). To Cardiologist (has NO history of heart problems). He did a cardiac catheterization!!! Great results -doc said, "You have the coronary arteries of a young woman!" She grabbed her neck and said, " What about my carotids (arteries)?" He looked at me like she was nuts. I asked for a prescription of Ativan for her anxiety. He said, " Well, that's out of my specialty, but, IN THIS CASE, I'll write it for her."
On the trip home, I congratulated her on the good results and also for her marvelous acting. Who else could find a way to get every test in the book? She just smirked. The hypochondriac could rest until something else popped into her brain.
This is a bad idea because there may come a day when the shepherd boy really has a problem but has cried "wolf" too many times.
This is probably why, as a nurse, I don't get shook up too easily. Fortunately very few of the patients I've had in 39 years have been like mother. Thank the Good Lord. 😌
Is there a special descriptive word besides "bat sh*tcrazee" for someone like me when suddenly, during hulk mood, these feelings jump in like compassion/sympathy/and sadness for my parent?? Then hating on myself for morphing into HULK but wanting to stay as hulk cuz I feel nutso. I then want to get away from my parents as soon as possible but also cry while I'm leaving the parking lot and reminisce during the day how I acted like a hulk.
It's exHausTingggggg!!!!
Sore muscles from HULKING yesterday!
I WORRY about you Jessie, because I think that you are a very good person who has a lot to offer. And whenever people tell me "my mother would die in a a facility" (and I hear that from friends here, not just on the message board) it turns out not to be true.
Folks with dementia aren't the same people they were when they had unbroken brains. At least some people with dementia appear to do better in a facility where there are more distractions, even if they aren't going to them.
I just like to present you with another point of view.
I actually was told not to visit mother for the first week (same at the other facility) so she would have some "adjustment time". Then hubby caught a nasty cold and I thought I'd get it too. We're finally over it all. We'll be visiting on Thursday. We've called a few times and they say she's setteling in nicely. Their doc has taken her off the Trazadone and she only takes half an Ativan twice a day! She would have been a raging lunatic without the meds when she lived here.
They wanted me to bring Ensure because the house doc said she's underweight. No, she's not. I'm wondering if she doesn't like the food and they want to make sure she gets enough calories. Unfortunately I can't get the truth from her.
I'll let you know on Friday how it's going.
I remember Pop-Eye, too. "That's all I can stands cause I can'ts stands no more." :D
I think the DSM should add a caregiver passive/aggressive syndrome.
I think it is good that I brought this subject up, though I was reluctant. I appreciated hearing from other caregivers that are going through the same thing. It is like saying that it's normal to feel like this and that we're not totally crazy.
If I were to leave, my mother would be so unhappy, as would my sister, as would my mother's housemate, who is a close friend of mine. The balance of the whole situation would be disrupted, how seriously I don't know. I'm holding up a part of this arrangement, and somehow it's come to feel as though it's my part to hold up, even though I'd truly rather not. So even though I wish very much that you were not in the situation you're in, I think I understand.
Also, I agree with McAlvie and Barb on certain points. You can only do so much on your own, before it starts to destroy you. At some point, I DO believe that it's ok to take care of ourselves. But that's hard to do sometimes, as we all want the best for our parents, just like they wanted the best for us.
If your mother is competent enough not to be "forced" into a facility, then she is competent enough to make reasonable choices for herself.
We all know that it's only your presence that is preventing "something" from happening.
So you decide to leave. Your mom says "I'll be fine".
Either your brother steps up, or the local APS, AAA or Sheriff does.
You are only in charge of your own life. If you continue to want to do this work, then so be it.
You know, I’m thankful she still has her faculties, at least when she wants to, but at the same time it makes it more frustrating because I can’t even blame a disease. A dear friend went through dementia with her mom, and it was awful and so hard on her. But she told me that at some point she she recognized that her mom was already gone long before her death and that it helped her, my friend, to let go of a lot of her guilt and anxiety.
What if the book was waiting to meet her when she reached her final destination? :-O