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There's nothing 'wrong with you' that isn't wrong with the vast majority of us. Poop stinks. Personal hygiene is called 'personal' because it's something that should be done by the person herself, not someone else.
Be kind to yourself. You're human so accept your imperfections and laugh them off like I do.
My 81 year old mom lives with us in her 2 rooms, we built her a brand new personal bathroom with a shower and everything is adjusted to her needs.
After cleaning After her several times a day for roughly 8 months, scratching feces from the wall, door knobs, night stand etc and situations where she showed me her poop covered hands I decided that’s it for me.
Since July a caregiver comes in 4 days a week for 2-3 hours, and man, she saved my life. Lynn is the most wonderful person I could wish for to look after my old mom.
I can only recommend having someone coming in for the special things. My relationship with my mother deteriorated big time, also because she sadly still treats me like an underling and servant.... but well. What can I do. I’m glad that her essential needs are taken care of in a professional and always kind and patient way.
Best wishes from Nova Scotia, Canada. ❤️
Some of us grew up with loving supportive moms who were hands on and involved in our childhoods but that wasn’t me. My relationship with her wasn’t filled with hugs and she was never too keen on the idea of taking care of me if I got sick and that has made it hard for me to be compassionate but I am careful to be sure she has the care she needs.
I love my mother and get along with her better now then I ever did in my younger days but it’s harder to be sympathetic when you know you are being manipulated.
I never had a problem when I took care of my dad while he was suffering from Alzheimer’s but then he never asked for help he didn’t need or tried to use his illness to get sympathy.
It is hard for me to visit with my mom on days she has bed pads drying everywhere. Urine reeks. I fabreeze the garbage cans and area as often as I can because she does not seem to smell it.
I remember going up to her place one day, and she was standing next to her bed, stark naked and YB was sponge bathing her, as she held on to her bedpost. It was a most unsettling sight. It was really warm in there, so not a problem with her getting chilled--it was just--so weird. I mean, YB just got right down there in the undercarriage and all...he is an EMT and sees everything, but this was our mother.
Still bothers me, the image is burned in my mind. She actually said to me "Oh, come on in and visit with us". No ma'am, no thanks.
If this is not something you can do, please find an agency for care that does provide this. I would have happily paid anything to have mother have a good bath.
Luckily she recouped to the point she could once again take a shower sitting on a shower chair.
You can say no to personal hygiene.
Everybody has their line in the sand. My sister won't even push a commode!
My retired Dr told me he occasionally assisted his wife with her Mother (with dementia). Then they moved Granny in. This became assisted showering, assisted toileting, then anal supps every 2-3 days when all other milder laxatives failed.
When his son came to stay he thought he would look after Granny & give his parents a well needed break. He was told she needed a bit of help to eat & in the bathroom. When he found out the actual details, he sat them down, looked them in the eye & said No. Asked them what was their line in the sand? Was SO far behind them but they were so burnt out they couldn't see or remember it. Just looking at the next teaspoon, the next supp. Not at the big picture: which was Granny needed more help. More aides. (Actually went into SNF).
Sorry for that long winded story. That Dr visit ran well over & he apologized to me but it was invaluable advice. Look up sometimes at the big picture.
Do you & your sister need to reassess & get more help?
So no, nothing's wrong with you.
I already knew I wasn't the "nursing" type. I lasted less than an hour, because the PT, who knew I didn't belong, had to move some old dude's arm because he had a new shoulder. The man started crying. I left the building immediately, went outside heaving. When the PT came out, I explained I was getting a bus and never coming back. She smiled and I think she was relieved. Boy, I can remember that like it was yesterday. Some people are cut out for it, and some ain't!
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