It started off as a chance of snow. Then, as it got closer to the weekend - which was to be an anniversary weekend away from home without children which hasn't happened in over 7 years - it was turning into something bigger. By the time we left Friday afternoon for our "weekend away", it was being called a true Nor'easter.
We spent a glorious night away and then during late afternoon turned back toward CT. Alfred made his presence known as we drove south from North Conway, New Hampshire. The snow and rain, often mixing together got heavier and heavier. By the time we hit Massachusetts, we were heavily into the storm. The roads were awful and many of the other drivers apparently had left their New England common sense at home. Typical first snowfall of the season, really.
The real fun began when I tried to call home and got nothing. Not a good sign. When we finally got off the highway and headed into town, we were greeted with a poll and large tree down and blocking the road. We took an alternate route and finally got home knowing that this storm was going to be bad. Not in the amount of snow that fell, but in the heaviness of it all. Because the weather was still "fall like" and temps had not/were not terribly low, the snow was extremely heavy. As I assumed from the downed line on the state road and the lack of connection on the home phone, we had no power. Thankfully we had the generator and got that hooked up as soon as possible and then hubby tried to rest because he knew he'd be working from storm's end to whenever the snow removal was done.
So the next day dawned and with it brought hope that things would now get back to normal. My beautiful magnolia that I've photographed so many times was just crushed and seeing it, so was my heart. The two Hawthorn trees were also damaged and the big Sugar Maple within the circle of the drive, lost more than a few branches. My beautiful red plum was sideways, leaning on my truck, but not totally out of the ground and my baby Sugar Maple looked more like a weeping cherry until I shook the snow off of it. I fixed the deer fencing that protects my chicken yard from above and shoveled the snow enough for the girls to get into the yard. I also, while re-littering the nesting boxes, picked up the lone black hen who had weathered the storm outside of the coop and put her back in the coop. I took many pictures that morning because while the snow was so damaging, it was also beautiful in the early sunlight.
We, of course, were still without power. Hubby had left at 2am to start snow removal and got home around 2pm. Instead of trying to figure out dinner, we found out that there was a 99 (chain restaurant) open about 25 minutes away (kids eat free on Sundays in October) and so our pack of misfits piled in the family truckster and headed out. I didn't think to plug in our corded land line phone at this point, although it wouldn't have mattered. They didn't charge the "slicks" during this storm either (one of my beefs during Hurricane Irene a few months back). We didn't get it back until Friday afternoon. I was surprised to only have 14 messages on the voicemail.
The next day came with hubby needing to survey tree damage which there was plenty to see. There is a rhythm to running the generator here and really, it runs everything except my electric range/oven and some of the lighting/switches. As I have said before...being without electricity here is an inconvenience for us. When we run the generator, the kids can charge their hand held video games and watch TV (DVR and DVD). I can play on/recharge the laptop and even plug in the washing machine. Basically, we are prepared. We have a wood stove to heat with, a generator to run our essentials and a gas grill and microwave to cook in. Heck, I even have a fryer which I can plug in and use.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday....they all ran into each other. No power. No school. Snippets of news from the radio at 6pm while cooking dinner on the grill. I am proud to say that we ate well every single evening and I baked bread 3 times during the week, on the grill, with decent results. The thing about living so far out in the country is that you don't see anyone really. It's not a neighborhood setting. You get cut off from others and can start to feel desperately alone. It's not the lack of cable or creature comforts that got me...it was the lack of being able to be connected to people. The kids had a ball...no homework, no worries...lots of video games and relaxing. It helped that the weather was for the most part absolutely perfect. Sunny days that were seasonably warm. Good enough to play outside for a bit and cool enough that it felt good to come in. And really, who doesn't love snowball fights with all the kids who live on the Hill? Even I had a few coffee "dates" that week with a friend.
Friday....almost a full 7 days without power...I hit my wall. I unfroze homemade chicken soup for supper and decided that I would make garlic cheddar biscuits on the grill. The grill was acting stupid and low on gas so hubby changed it after they'd been on there for almost 1/2 hour (biscuits need to be baked at a relatively high temp for a short amount of time). It ended up being burnt bottom biscuits for the big batch. THEN, for the second smaller batch, it was "watch the grill start on fire because of grease and ruin everything". For some reason, the biscuit incident sent me over the edge. I was tired of cooking on the grill. I was tired of being alone. I felt miserable in my heart and in my soul and anyone around me was going to get a taste of it (yeah, yeah...PMS too). Hubby, instead of leaving me out in the cold which is what I would have done, took me to the grocery store where he pampered me by buying me something "cheesy" for comfort. (Amy's Organics Cheese Pizza Pocket Sandwich AND Cheddar and Bean burrito. Both microwaveable. No worries...I only ate the pocket sandwich!) And while this may not seem like much, he waited while I pretty much read the ingredients of EVERY.SINGLE.FROZEN.CHEESY.ITEM. I really should have just started in the organic freezer aisle. We also picked up a few odds and ends like organic butter. Did I mention toast was another comfort food? /grin/
Saturday rolls around and with it the guarantee from CL&P (*a division of the EVER GREEDY Northeast Utilities who are also partly responsible for the Northern Pass mess up in NH*) that 99% of customers would be restored by midnight on Sunday. On this day I decide to tackle a project to keep my mind from blowing another gasket. My bedroom. The big closet is vomiting out its contents, E's toys are strewn about and the broken treadmill is laying in the midst of all the chaos. Oh and I forgot to mention that the boys keep busting my one working upright vacuum so I haven't been able to vacuum the disgusting, awful, can't-wait-to-be-rid-of-it carpeting in some time. By the end of Saturday, my room is half done and my closet is back to its neat and tidy self. There is still no power, but I've invited hubby's siblings, nephews and niece over for pizza so there is at least something to look forward to and be thankful for. I'm so glad that they came...really. It was so much fun to just hang out and talk, drink wine and be a family and I daresay it took our minds off of the week that had just passed and gave us maybe some hope for what the coming week would be like.
Sunday dawns with no power, but I'm up at the crack of dawn (Good riddance to DST). I start the generator, turn on my Keurig and brew a cup of joe and start on finishing my job in the bedroom. Soon enough, the kids tell me (while the generator is on) that we have cable now. While hubby goes to help our retired neighbor start his generator, he is told that the neighbor has called CL&P and put in an emergency call. They are both diabetics and need to keep their insulin cold. Without the snow (which has melted) they cannot. Hubby and I head out to do errands and we come back to the 6 children who have now hit their wall. One locked out in bare feet, two eldest angry...good times. While we are having rational discussions (no really...they were actually rational!) with all the parties involved with the generator running, I notice my stove is blinking the time....Oh sweet JESUS, YES!!!! Off goes the generator and back on the grid. Power is restored! I am so excited that I promise cookies and cake and a yummy meal cooked INSIDE the home. I finish up the bedroom "clean and revamp" and Shrimp Scampi graces our table that evening and we all are happy.
I'm not sure I've learned much from the storm except that I really loathe the drone of small engines running. I guess I also learn that it pays to be prepared as best as you can. I am thankful that we heeded warnings back in 2005 to have an electrician come and get us generator ready. Things would have been a million times worse if we didn't. I think our only change after Alfred (and his friend Irene before him) will be to convert to a gas range so that cooking can be done inside of our house. Whether I get the Wolf range is still up in the air. /grin/
I will say this as a closing: I can't say I missed the hum of the electricity. There is something pretty special about the absolute silence that the lack of electricity leaves you with in a world that seems is always busy and moving...you just have to stop and enjoy it. And then remember to do that daily.....
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Deep in thought along the road
I've started walking each day...anywhere between 4 and 5 miles. I try to get at least one hour away from the house for the most part. Sometimes it's longer and sometimes it is a bit shorter.
So this week, I've taken the blue trail a couple of times. One day I did the short part. I know this one like the back of my hand. I've taken it numerous times with the kids in tow because let's face it, walking in the woods is just good fun. One day I decided to take the other side of the trail head that I'd never been on, but knew which road it would dump me on. After walking for about 30 minutes, I realized I probably was in a bit over my head and was glad that I had grabbed a large stick to walk with. We have had a lot of rain (something like 20" over normal) and so some of the areas I was walking through were a bit wet and mucky. Probably better suited for bikes or hiking boots than sneakers, but I kept going as the trail was well marked. Finally I got to a place where it was very, very wet and I could not tell where the trail went. I kinda had an idea of where I was and decided that I needed to get off the trail and onto a road. After climbing a rather large hill and finding that I was farther than expected (although I knew exactly where I was), I trespassed on private property. This usually would not be such a big deal, but it is hunting season in these parts and I passed not only a large hunting blind, but also a tree stand. I was happy to have on my bright yellow sweatshirt and bright white bandana on my head. Needless to say, I've stayed on the road or taken the shorter part of the trail that I know instead.
Anyway, because I have been walking alone, I've thought deeply about things. It is amazing what clarity you can get when you are alone on a dirt road or in the woods with no sounds, but birds and fat squirrels scuffling around trying to make haste in winter preparations. I have stopped using an iPod because I really feel like I need to be hyper-aware of my surroundings especially while alone. It is quite humbling to look at trees thicker around than your body and know that they have been on earth longer than you and will likely survive longer than you as well. I have felt rather small and inconsequential, really. Of course, I've also seen trees, especially around the ponds, grow together. My hubby tells me that these types of trees are less strong and dangerous to power lines, but there is something comforting in seeing 5 trees mesh their trunks into one, but go their own way. Perhaps, this is a reminder for me that family is where my roots are even when I want to do my own thing? Maybe a reminder that I can still stay grounded, but continue to grow. I am quite certain, even with all my rantings and ravings about how sucky life can be sometimes, that I am not destined to be the strong tree standing alone, but more of the smaller tree meshed with others.
In any case, my walks have really been a balm for my soul this week. I'm so thankful to live where I do and have the opportunity to enjoy my surroundings each and every day. Blessed is what I truly am....even when I go and forget that.
Monday, October 24, 2011
A change in my thinking....
So I've changed my thinking about something since hurting my back. Ok, ok, let me start at the beginning.....
I started to run about 3 years ago. I have never been fast, although early on, I did have more endurance than I do now. I roughly can do a 5K in about 39 minutes. I am totally ok with this. I have lowered the time on my one mile run, but for anything longer, I just haven't worked on the endurance of keeping a faster pace. The last mile of a 5K is usually the one that gets me.
Summer came and I hurt myself in the pool. I knew I pulled something, but with regular pool use, I didn't really have any pain. We head out on vacation which is 5 hours in the car and then lots of driving once we reach our destination. By the end of the week, my back is a mess. Then the coup d'etat, I really hurt myself the Sunday before Labor Day when I try to get the stuck collar off the pool filter and wind up in the ER hours before our annual party.
After almost 2 months of back pain, lots of meds and physical therapy, I am happy to report that I feel great. I feel some residual ache sometimes if I overdo with heavy lifting, but for the most part, I feel healed. And this is where it comes to me....
Running is guaranteed to lessen your flexibility. I didn't make this up. It's the truth. I have to thank my daughter and her friend, A., both dancers, for cluing me in. After some research on my own AND talking to my physical therapist, running *does* lessen one's flexibility. DAMN.
So, I'm not running anymore. Why? Well, here's the thing, the one thing that I've always, always had was flexibility. Obviously as I've aged, some of it has gone away, but the lack of flexibility that I had when my back was hurt was overwhelming and it scared me. After talking with my physical therapist at my last visit, I think that I will walk for the cardio I need to keep my BP in check and I will pursue yoga to keep myself strong and flexible for as long as possible. So I may not be losing a whole lot of weight, but I think this is the right approach for my 40+ year old body. I want to be here for my family for a long time...and I want to be able to carry myself for as long as possible while I'm here.
I started to run about 3 years ago. I have never been fast, although early on, I did have more endurance than I do now. I roughly can do a 5K in about 39 minutes. I am totally ok with this. I have lowered the time on my one mile run, but for anything longer, I just haven't worked on the endurance of keeping a faster pace. The last mile of a 5K is usually the one that gets me.
Summer came and I hurt myself in the pool. I knew I pulled something, but with regular pool use, I didn't really have any pain. We head out on vacation which is 5 hours in the car and then lots of driving once we reach our destination. By the end of the week, my back is a mess. Then the coup d'etat, I really hurt myself the Sunday before Labor Day when I try to get the stuck collar off the pool filter and wind up in the ER hours before our annual party.
After almost 2 months of back pain, lots of meds and physical therapy, I am happy to report that I feel great. I feel some residual ache sometimes if I overdo with heavy lifting, but for the most part, I feel healed. And this is where it comes to me....
Running is guaranteed to lessen your flexibility. I didn't make this up. It's the truth. I have to thank my daughter and her friend, A., both dancers, for cluing me in. After some research on my own AND talking to my physical therapist, running *does* lessen one's flexibility. DAMN.
So, I'm not running anymore. Why? Well, here's the thing, the one thing that I've always, always had was flexibility. Obviously as I've aged, some of it has gone away, but the lack of flexibility that I had when my back was hurt was overwhelming and it scared me. After talking with my physical therapist at my last visit, I think that I will walk for the cardio I need to keep my BP in check and I will pursue yoga to keep myself strong and flexible for as long as possible. So I may not be losing a whole lot of weight, but I think this is the right approach for my 40+ year old body. I want to be here for my family for a long time...and I want to be able to carry myself for as long as possible while I'm here.
Friday, October 14, 2011
I'm sick.
Yes, truly. Head cold. Allow me to whine? Wait, I don't have to ask permission because this is my blog! HAH!
This is where the whining starts.....
So head colds are generally no big deal. You sneeze some, cough a bit, you blow your nose a lot and maybe your throat tickles a little. I have never complained about a cold (well...maybe I have, but I don't recall, so that means never).
Add in my super duper sciatic nerve being pinched in my left buttock because of the curse (with no relief from ANY of the stretches that usually help) and then a bunch of lower back and butt muscles that are NOT healed yet (WTF? When are they just going to heal? I'm done already!) and you get a body that will not tolerate sneezing or coughing without the back going into major seizures of pain unless I am lying on my side, knees pulled up to my chest with a large pillow or blanket to hug and even then it's a crap shoot on whether my back seizes up.
You know what? I'm just tired of being broken. Tired of pain. Tired of having one or two good days followed by 3 or 4 awful, no good, rotten days. I'm tired of everything taking me a zillion years to accomplish because I move like a ninety year old woman. I'm tired of the hubby and kids joking that I'm really "milking" this back business. I'm just tired. Hmmm, seems to be a theme in my life, doesn't it? Sigh. If it isn't one thing it's another. Now someone pass me a tissue.
This is where the whining starts.....
So head colds are generally no big deal. You sneeze some, cough a bit, you blow your nose a lot and maybe your throat tickles a little. I have never complained about a cold (well...maybe I have, but I don't recall, so that means never).
Add in my super duper sciatic nerve being pinched in my left buttock because of the curse (with no relief from ANY of the stretches that usually help) and then a bunch of lower back and butt muscles that are NOT healed yet (WTF? When are they just going to heal? I'm done already!) and you get a body that will not tolerate sneezing or coughing without the back going into major seizures of pain unless I am lying on my side, knees pulled up to my chest with a large pillow or blanket to hug and even then it's a crap shoot on whether my back seizes up.
You know what? I'm just tired of being broken. Tired of pain. Tired of having one or two good days followed by 3 or 4 awful, no good, rotten days. I'm tired of everything taking me a zillion years to accomplish because I move like a ninety year old woman. I'm tired of the hubby and kids joking that I'm really "milking" this back business. I'm just tired. Hmmm, seems to be a theme in my life, doesn't it? Sigh. If it isn't one thing it's another. Now someone pass me a tissue.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Inevitable.
My mother is now being evaluated in a geriatric behavioral health setting. We took a nice 911 ambulance ride on her 78th birthday. My sister flew up over the weekend and stayed with us. She went to see my Mom during visiting hours on Saturday evening. Becca and I went and picked her up and spent a few minutes with my Mom. She was barely coherent.
For the past few weeks I have been very angry. I snap at the kids. I snap at the hubby. I just can't seem to be happy. Last night after hubby was nice to me even though I had been a total witch, I started crying. Oh I have felt it coming. I just keep pushing it back. Last night I couldn't push it away anymore. I sobbed when hubby put on Dirty Dancing for a few minutes and then later on probably sobbed for a good half hour. Hubby finally got out of me what the issue is.
I am tired. Tired of being an adult. Oh I know...no use crying over that. It isn't apt to change. I'm tired of the role reversal. I miss my Dad. He would take care of all of this so I wouldn't have to. See...I'm just tired. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this adult business where you have to care for your parent. I also found out that my brother is about as useful as one of my younger children really which adds to the amount of weight I feel in my shoulders. I love my brother...he is smart and a good man...he just can't speak up. I had to become the mouthpiece for my mother in the ER for over 12 hours when I just wanted someone else to share the load. The longer we sat around in a hallway, the more I spoke up. I guess I should have started earlier. Perhaps we would have been out of the hospital before 1am.
I feel like if I move in the wrong direction this house of cards is all going to fall down on me. For the first time in my life I am wondering if I might need some meds to help with my mental state. For anyone who knows anything about me, that has NEVER crossed my mind. I deal. I don't take drugs. But...BUT...I don't even find joy in my everyday life anymore and add to this my back issues and the fact that I am in pain more than half the time I am awake, you might be able to see why I am tired. Laundry is bothersome. Cleaning the house is a task that physically hurts me so badly that I just don't care. Dinner? Oh yeah, well, I barely get by these days. And today, well today I have to visit my mother in the behavioral hospital by myself. I am terrified. Literally. I have PT at 11:30 and then I have to drive myself there and go in by myself. I have put it off for 2 days now. I'm afraid of the unknown. I am honestly surprised that I have not had a panic attack. I don't want to visit my mother who doesn't seem to even know what the hell is going on while other confused elderly people walk around not knowing what is going on. I'm afraid I will do something wrong. I actually don't really know what scares me the most....I am just know I'm sick over it.
I know where my fear comes from I think. When I was about 5yo, my father took me into the nursing home that my grandfather was living in (his father). Some of the elderly people in the home yelled at my Dad for bringing in a little girl. One man in particular was a rather large man with no legs in a wheelchair in the hallway as we walked down to my grandfather's room. He told my Dad that I was too young to be there. I was so frightened of him. Once we got to my grandfather's room, he was a shell of the man I knew. He was in a large high chair and he didn't speak. He was even scary. Ever since then, I have been uncomfortable (at best) with elderly people especially in a nursing home/hospital setting. My Nana (mom's mom) was everything right and good in my childhood, yet, when her dementia landed her in a nursing home, I can count on one hand how many times I went in to visit and I NEVER went alone.
I wish I had the strength to change how I feel. I wish I felt kind and loving towards elderly people. I wish that they didn't scare me to death. Maybe, just maybe, I don't like seeing the inevitable staring at me in the face with its angry, cold eyes.
For the past few weeks I have been very angry. I snap at the kids. I snap at the hubby. I just can't seem to be happy. Last night after hubby was nice to me even though I had been a total witch, I started crying. Oh I have felt it coming. I just keep pushing it back. Last night I couldn't push it away anymore. I sobbed when hubby put on Dirty Dancing for a few minutes and then later on probably sobbed for a good half hour. Hubby finally got out of me what the issue is.
I am tired. Tired of being an adult. Oh I know...no use crying over that. It isn't apt to change. I'm tired of the role reversal. I miss my Dad. He would take care of all of this so I wouldn't have to. See...I'm just tired. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this adult business where you have to care for your parent. I also found out that my brother is about as useful as one of my younger children really which adds to the amount of weight I feel in my shoulders. I love my brother...he is smart and a good man...he just can't speak up. I had to become the mouthpiece for my mother in the ER for over 12 hours when I just wanted someone else to share the load. The longer we sat around in a hallway, the more I spoke up. I guess I should have started earlier. Perhaps we would have been out of the hospital before 1am.
I feel like if I move in the wrong direction this house of cards is all going to fall down on me. For the first time in my life I am wondering if I might need some meds to help with my mental state. For anyone who knows anything about me, that has NEVER crossed my mind. I deal. I don't take drugs. But...BUT...I don't even find joy in my everyday life anymore and add to this my back issues and the fact that I am in pain more than half the time I am awake, you might be able to see why I am tired. Laundry is bothersome. Cleaning the house is a task that physically hurts me so badly that I just don't care. Dinner? Oh yeah, well, I barely get by these days. And today, well today I have to visit my mother in the behavioral hospital by myself. I am terrified. Literally. I have PT at 11:30 and then I have to drive myself there and go in by myself. I have put it off for 2 days now. I'm afraid of the unknown. I am honestly surprised that I have not had a panic attack. I don't want to visit my mother who doesn't seem to even know what the hell is going on while other confused elderly people walk around not knowing what is going on. I'm afraid I will do something wrong. I actually don't really know what scares me the most....I am just know I'm sick over it.
I know where my fear comes from I think. When I was about 5yo, my father took me into the nursing home that my grandfather was living in (his father). Some of the elderly people in the home yelled at my Dad for bringing in a little girl. One man in particular was a rather large man with no legs in a wheelchair in the hallway as we walked down to my grandfather's room. He told my Dad that I was too young to be there. I was so frightened of him. Once we got to my grandfather's room, he was a shell of the man I knew. He was in a large high chair and he didn't speak. He was even scary. Ever since then, I have been uncomfortable (at best) with elderly people especially in a nursing home/hospital setting. My Nana (mom's mom) was everything right and good in my childhood, yet, when her dementia landed her in a nursing home, I can count on one hand how many times I went in to visit and I NEVER went alone.
I wish I had the strength to change how I feel. I wish I felt kind and loving towards elderly people. I wish that they didn't scare me to death. Maybe, just maybe, I don't like seeing the inevitable staring at me in the face with its angry, cold eyes.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
And now for something completely different
Chickens!
(By the way - did you get the reference to Monty Python in my title? No? Ok, never mind then. I am not talking about dead parrots anyway.)
I know, I know. What could be blog worthy about chickens?
Well, here's the thing - I have the most friendly chickens on the earth. No really. They are super friendly. One got into my truck yesterday after I got into the driver seat. I sat there petting it while it sat on the step. I had to actually force it out so that I could shut my door and leave!
Now I know why they follow me. I've fed them. A friend from high school joked that chickens are NOT smart, but they do remember any and all times that they've been fed. I've obviously fed them - good stuff too - not just feed. No need to remind them of the countless corn cobs, watermelon rinds, tomatoes and radish greens that I've thrown their way because they SO remember.
I love that when I go down to the clothes line to hang laundry that they run to me and mill about eating bugs and other things. I have to be careful not to step on them sometimes because they are always around my feet. I talk to them. I call them "my girls". They have become pets which is probably not the best idea since someday they will stop laying...and then they will be food.
I really have become the "Crazy Chicken Lady". It doesn't scare me. Much.
(By the way - did you get the reference to Monty Python in my title? No? Ok, never mind then. I am not talking about dead parrots anyway.)
I know, I know. What could be blog worthy about chickens?
Well, here's the thing - I have the most friendly chickens on the earth. No really. They are super friendly. One got into my truck yesterday after I got into the driver seat. I sat there petting it while it sat on the step. I had to actually force it out so that I could shut my door and leave!
Now I know why they follow me. I've fed them. A friend from high school joked that chickens are NOT smart, but they do remember any and all times that they've been fed. I've obviously fed them - good stuff too - not just feed. No need to remind them of the countless corn cobs, watermelon rinds, tomatoes and radish greens that I've thrown their way because they SO remember.
I love that when I go down to the clothes line to hang laundry that they run to me and mill about eating bugs and other things. I have to be careful not to step on them sometimes because they are always around my feet. I talk to them. I call them "my girls". They have become pets which is probably not the best idea since someday they will stop laying...and then they will be food.
I really have become the "Crazy Chicken Lady". It doesn't scare me. Much.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
As the stomach turns...
Life certainly does feel like a soap opera sometimes. I do NOT like drama. I do NOT like conflict. Both make my blood pressure rise and my anxiety flare up. Oh and for the record, apparently PAIN makes my blood pressure SKYROCKET. 142/100 at yesterday's doctor appointment....YIKES (it came way down by bedtime last night).
My mother is still at her home. 24 hour care is still in place with a new caregiver. She has been accepted onto Title 19 and the state has assessed her needs. I took her to a new GP (one who was referred by the Alzheimer's Association) and she also had another appointment with the geriatric psychiatrist. I like the new doctor ok and I'm still not a fan of the psychiatrist, but she is kind to my mother so I have to remember that it isn't about me.
I've tweaked out my back which is really getting me irritated. I cannot do any of my normal everyday chores, etc. easily. I cannot pick things off the floor, I walk like I'm 90 years old and I cannot sit for too long without being in agony. I have, however, figured out how this all started (doing leg lifts, etc. in the pool) and how it got worse (sitting in the car for hours on vacation). Of course, the coup d'etat was when I squatted down to get the darn collar off the pool filter and felt something RIP across my back. 2 hours in the ER right before our HUGE annual party for Labor Day. Thankfully I have the most AMAZING family. Thing 1 and Thing 2 stepped up to the plate and took care of getting the yard and house up to par while hubby took me to the hospital 30 minutes away. My MIL also was a huge help and came over early to offer her support. For those of you who "know" my Thing 2, I was blown away by her ability to take charge and do what needed to be done. I respect her in ways that I couldn't have if this didn't happen to me. Blessings do come from bad things.
So now we are basically on a holding pattern...Mom is settled and we're slowly getting her needs squared away. I saw my PA yesterday and he gave me new meds, a script for PT and had me go for Xrays. I have also gained 5 pounds, but under the circumstances, I am actually ok with that. There hasn't been much exercise the last month and lots of eating Haagen Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream before bed. /burp/
My mother is still at her home. 24 hour care is still in place with a new caregiver. She has been accepted onto Title 19 and the state has assessed her needs. I took her to a new GP (one who was referred by the Alzheimer's Association) and she also had another appointment with the geriatric psychiatrist. I like the new doctor ok and I'm still not a fan of the psychiatrist, but she is kind to my mother so I have to remember that it isn't about me.
I've tweaked out my back which is really getting me irritated. I cannot do any of my normal everyday chores, etc. easily. I cannot pick things off the floor, I walk like I'm 90 years old and I cannot sit for too long without being in agony. I have, however, figured out how this all started (doing leg lifts, etc. in the pool) and how it got worse (sitting in the car for hours on vacation). Of course, the coup d'etat was when I squatted down to get the darn collar off the pool filter and felt something RIP across my back. 2 hours in the ER right before our HUGE annual party for Labor Day. Thankfully I have the most AMAZING family. Thing 1 and Thing 2 stepped up to the plate and took care of getting the yard and house up to par while hubby took me to the hospital 30 minutes away. My MIL also was a huge help and came over early to offer her support. For those of you who "know" my Thing 2, I was blown away by her ability to take charge and do what needed to be done. I respect her in ways that I couldn't have if this didn't happen to me. Blessings do come from bad things.
So now we are basically on a holding pattern...Mom is settled and we're slowly getting her needs squared away. I saw my PA yesterday and he gave me new meds, a script for PT and had me go for Xrays. I have also gained 5 pounds, but under the circumstances, I am actually ok with that. There hasn't been much exercise the last month and lots of eating Haagen Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream before bed. /burp/
Friday, August 26, 2011
And at the end of the day? It just got worse.
No care as of 5pm today for NON PAYMENT. Right. That means I have to sit on my hands all day and try like hell to fight the urge to go save my mother.
I called and put in a referral with Elder Services after speaking with the social worker from the psychiatrists' office. After we found out there will be NO care as of today, my sister called and got into a fight with another woman at Elder Services.
After that, the same woman my sister fought with (and told that she would hold her personally responsible if anything happened to my mother) called my brother and assured him that they will make a home visit today.
Now, we just wait...and hope that the little stealing bitch stays away long enough that my mother is removed and placed where she can be safe. And then once I know she is safe, I can start dealing with the guilt that I cannot take care of her. Oh joy.
I called and put in a referral with Elder Services after speaking with the social worker from the psychiatrists' office. After we found out there will be NO care as of today, my sister called and got into a fight with another woman at Elder Services.
After that, the same woman my sister fought with (and told that she would hold her personally responsible if anything happened to my mother) called my brother and assured him that they will make a home visit today.
Now, we just wait...and hope that the little stealing bitch stays away long enough that my mother is removed and placed where she can be safe. And then once I know she is safe, I can start dealing with the guilt that I cannot take care of her. Oh joy.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Absurdity strikes again!
Oh for goodness sake - can we ever get a fuckin' break here?
The daytime caregiver quit this morning. Many reasons...one being that my stepfather's family is manipulative, she isn't fond of the afternoon caregiver (who apparently is actually LIVING in my mother's house) and that the granddaughter who stole money from them is now starting to "take over" again.
That means that my mother's only "daily basis" advocate (and I don't think she was terribly strong) is gone. That means that my mother has no choice, but to be battered by this granddaughter, a caregiver she hates and miserable....and we know things haven't changed.
I'm done. I'm fried. As is my brother. We can't take her in. We can't put her in a home. We cannot do a fucking thing because they have all the control even though my mother's name is on the deed of the house.
I've put a call into the social worker I met with yesterday. I am contemplating calling social services and giving a report to Elderly Abuse. I just don't understand why my Mom is always the bad guy in this situation - why no one will help us protect her....
If you pray, please do. If not, good thoughts that we can figure out what our next move should be.
The daytime caregiver quit this morning. Many reasons...one being that my stepfather's family is manipulative, she isn't fond of the afternoon caregiver (who apparently is actually LIVING in my mother's house) and that the granddaughter who stole money from them is now starting to "take over" again.
That means that my mother's only "daily basis" advocate (and I don't think she was terribly strong) is gone. That means that my mother has no choice, but to be battered by this granddaughter, a caregiver she hates and miserable....and we know things haven't changed.
I'm done. I'm fried. As is my brother. We can't take her in. We can't put her in a home. We cannot do a fucking thing because they have all the control even though my mother's name is on the deed of the house.
I've put a call into the social worker I met with yesterday. I am contemplating calling social services and giving a report to Elderly Abuse. I just don't understand why my Mom is always the bad guy in this situation - why no one will help us protect her....
If you pray, please do. If not, good thoughts that we can figure out what our next move should be.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
And the saga continues....
I had to step up again today and be the adult. That dreaded part of my life that makes me want to run crying for my blankie and stay in bed all day.
About two weeks ago, my mom became combative with her caregivers while they were trying to bathe my stepfather (she was jealous and thought they were trying to steal her guy). She then ran out of the house. "Eloped" is the word the social worker used today. A word that brings up a different scenario to me than how they use the word. Needless to say, 911 was called and my mother was brought to the hospital. She was kept there until midnight and then they finally decided to admit her for evaluation. I wasn't told until after the fact. I was told the next day, in fact, and that was by my sister. Not my brother who lives in the same state as I do. And really by then they had already sent her packing saying that she wasn't ready for "facility living", but they did give her some extra drugs. And if you've read my blog you know that I am not a fan of "let's drug them up so they don't give us any shit" when it comes to my mother and her Alzheimers.
So today I was bringing her to see a new doctor. It is a group of psychiatrists and social workers that specialize in geriatric care. Good place to be, I guess. I was a bit late in picking her up, but thankfully this new doctor is maybe 5 miles from her home and in an area that I am well familiar with. She seemed drugged. She could not hold a conversation and she could not follow simple instructions on how to get into my car. I literally had to lift her up to get her into the seat and then pretty much tug her out when we got there. I'm pretty sure if you asked her what my name was today, she couldn't tell you. Oh wait, they did ask her and she had no clue. The social worker took me and left her with a doctor. Then we came back together and another doctor came with with the social worker. They asked more questions (some of which I could not answer because I am not her POA or Conservator) and then basically told me that my mother is in the late stages of Alzheimers. Dude really? Like I didn't know this? Sigh. So we're charging medicaid and blue cross $150 for you to waste my time for 2 hours on one of the last days of summer vacation with my kids so you can tell me what I already know? Pulease.
And then they spoke of the fact that she needs some kind of stimulation during the day because that is likely why she isn't sleeping well at night. Not enough daytime stimulation and likely the current caregivers are not even aware of what should be happening with her. Adult day care. Oh terrific. Great. I want that for her too, but how the FUCK am I supposed to pay for it? Right. Did you not get the memo when I spoke to the social worker that all her care is paid for from my stepfather's lawyer? A lawyer that we did not hire and really was hired to act in my stepfather's best interest? Oh I'm sure she is a very nice lawyer, Miss Social Worker, but I've dealt with her before at my last house closing and she was a total and complete, unprofessional BITCH. So yeah, my brother will have to broach that subject. We may be able to get small grants through the state's Alzheimer's group. I have numbers and papers and my head is swimming. Oh and another appointment on September 9th.
So I bring her back to the house and her PM caregiver tells me that my mom is so much better now that she is home from the hospital. Yep. I'm sure she is, Miss Caregiver. She is loopy, can't think straight and shuffles around on her feet like an old woman. Of course, that is how you wanted her to begin with, right? Just one month ago, she was a totally different woman. And yes, she was still forgetful and couldn't always find the words she needed, but she wasn't like this.
I feel like a failure. No money, no job, no say...I cannot care for her here and I cannot care for her there. I can drive her to appointments. Big fuckin' whoop. Did I mention that I hate this part of my life?
About two weeks ago, my mom became combative with her caregivers while they were trying to bathe my stepfather (she was jealous and thought they were trying to steal her guy). She then ran out of the house. "Eloped" is the word the social worker used today. A word that brings up a different scenario to me than how they use the word. Needless to say, 911 was called and my mother was brought to the hospital. She was kept there until midnight and then they finally decided to admit her for evaluation. I wasn't told until after the fact. I was told the next day, in fact, and that was by my sister. Not my brother who lives in the same state as I do. And really by then they had already sent her packing saying that she wasn't ready for "facility living", but they did give her some extra drugs. And if you've read my blog you know that I am not a fan of "let's drug them up so they don't give us any shit" when it comes to my mother and her Alzheimers.
So today I was bringing her to see a new doctor. It is a group of psychiatrists and social workers that specialize in geriatric care. Good place to be, I guess. I was a bit late in picking her up, but thankfully this new doctor is maybe 5 miles from her home and in an area that I am well familiar with. She seemed drugged. She could not hold a conversation and she could not follow simple instructions on how to get into my car. I literally had to lift her up to get her into the seat and then pretty much tug her out when we got there. I'm pretty sure if you asked her what my name was today, she couldn't tell you. Oh wait, they did ask her and she had no clue. The social worker took me and left her with a doctor. Then we came back together and another doctor came with with the social worker. They asked more questions (some of which I could not answer because I am not her POA or Conservator) and then basically told me that my mother is in the late stages of Alzheimers. Dude really? Like I didn't know this? Sigh. So we're charging medicaid and blue cross $150 for you to waste my time for 2 hours on one of the last days of summer vacation with my kids so you can tell me what I already know? Pulease.
And then they spoke of the fact that she needs some kind of stimulation during the day because that is likely why she isn't sleeping well at night. Not enough daytime stimulation and likely the current caregivers are not even aware of what should be happening with her. Adult day care. Oh terrific. Great. I want that for her too, but how the FUCK am I supposed to pay for it? Right. Did you not get the memo when I spoke to the social worker that all her care is paid for from my stepfather's lawyer? A lawyer that we did not hire and really was hired to act in my stepfather's best interest? Oh I'm sure she is a very nice lawyer, Miss Social Worker, but I've dealt with her before at my last house closing and she was a total and complete, unprofessional BITCH. So yeah, my brother will have to broach that subject. We may be able to get small grants through the state's Alzheimer's group. I have numbers and papers and my head is swimming. Oh and another appointment on September 9th.
So I bring her back to the house and her PM caregiver tells me that my mom is so much better now that she is home from the hospital. Yep. I'm sure she is, Miss Caregiver. She is loopy, can't think straight and shuffles around on her feet like an old woman. Of course, that is how you wanted her to begin with, right? Just one month ago, she was a totally different woman. And yes, she was still forgetful and couldn't always find the words she needed, but she wasn't like this.
I feel like a failure. No money, no job, no say...I cannot care for her here and I cannot care for her there. I can drive her to appointments. Big fuckin' whoop. Did I mention that I hate this part of my life?
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Sitting at dance camp with the little girl
Why is it that parents think it is totally ok to let their other children run rampant in and out of dance rooms playing with things (mats, trampolines)? I swear that for the last 3 weeks, these other children have raised havoc and the mothers sit there chatting like nothing is going on and it has gotten to the point that the owner of the studio (whom is teaching & I am paying for little girl's dance camp) has asked the boys to chill out/stop running/etc. This week, she asked me to keep an eye on them as her foster daughter is among the crowd (but is not disruptive). This burns my biscuits. Why the heck should I have to watch your boys? Why shouldn't you be getting off your butts and watching them yourselves? Ugh. Empty threats don't work. Parenting does. For God's sake...TRY IT! I understand that kids are kids. I understand that sitting at dance camp for an hour and 15 minutes really isn't their thing, but then bring stuff to keep them occupied. Keep them occupied in your eyesight and stop allowing them to act like a bunch of hooligans. For the love of all that is good and right, GET OFF YOUR BUTTS!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Odd man out
Yep. That's me. I'm so tired of trying to fit in that I've decided to embrace not fitting in. As my sister says, "This is me. This is who I am." You can take me or leave me, but I am not going to feel badly.
I've decided that I'm going to focus on those people who like me and want to be with me. If you have problems with me and you can't be adult enough to speak to me then you are left with what you should be. Bitterness, anger, resentment - whatever. I've been on that side too. That's not a healthy place. Saying what is on your mind does not need to be rude although it is usually confrontational and uncomfortable. Most people do not like that, but the aftermath...the cleanse...is what makes it worth it.
I cannot make everyone happy. I cannot read minds. I will NOT feel guilty for either of these things because it is not my job. And believe me, as a mom, I feel enough guilt for things that are far more important.
I am not perfect. Far from it. But I have a heart and feelings and when someone makes it abundantly clear that I'm not important in their world, that hurts. I am forever trying to do the right thing and be the best person I can be, but sometimes I might have an off day...or hell an off three months. Here are my shoes, remember?
So yeah, I'm thankful for my friends, my family - those who know I am not perfect yet love me anyway and still see something in me that makes it worth having a relationship with me. Those are the people I am focusing on from now on because I have to believe that there is *something* good and worthwhile inside of me.
I've decided that I'm going to focus on those people who like me and want to be with me. If you have problems with me and you can't be adult enough to speak to me then you are left with what you should be. Bitterness, anger, resentment - whatever. I've been on that side too. That's not a healthy place. Saying what is on your mind does not need to be rude although it is usually confrontational and uncomfortable. Most people do not like that, but the aftermath...the cleanse...is what makes it worth it.
I cannot make everyone happy. I cannot read minds. I will NOT feel guilty for either of these things because it is not my job. And believe me, as a mom, I feel enough guilt for things that are far more important.
I am not perfect. Far from it. But I have a heart and feelings and when someone makes it abundantly clear that I'm not important in their world, that hurts. I am forever trying to do the right thing and be the best person I can be, but sometimes I might have an off day...or hell an off three months. Here are my shoes, remember?
So yeah, I'm thankful for my friends, my family - those who know I am not perfect yet love me anyway and still see something in me that makes it worth having a relationship with me. Those are the people I am focusing on from now on because I have to believe that there is *something* good and worthwhile inside of me.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Getting healthy and losing weight - sometimes this journey sucks
I am trying to lose weight. 35lbs to be exact. The first month I shed 7 lbs. It wasn't too difficult. Now in my second month, I have lost nothing. In fact, if the scale was correct this morning, I am up two pounds. Now granted, I'm pretty sure it is water weight and the fact that I was camping without proper toilet facilities with a bunch of other people. Unfortunately, I am someone who is very regular while at home, but not so much when I am sleeping somewhere else especially with people who are not part of my family.
I am frustrated. I want this weight to be gone. I want to wake up and be thin again. I HATE LOATHE and DESPISE exercise. Some days I tell myself that I only have to walk on the treadmill just to get my arse on the stupid thing. Most days I end up running anyway. I push myself harder and harder because I am competitive. I want to break my old "record". I also know that my calories burned is higher while running...and the more distance I can get in the shortest amount of time is what I aim for. Distance * (body weight * .63) = net calories burned is what I go by for running. Walking is just a measly half of that. I want it NOW.
On the plus side, I have gone down a pants size. Things that didn't fit are fitting again. There are still quite a few things that are waiting on me to get even smaller though. I am holding out. I am going to keep on keeping on. Even now when I am tired and frustrated. I guess I just need to amp up my exercise and really eat clean. EVERY day. EVERY day is a new day to start again.
I am frustrated. I want this weight to be gone. I want to wake up and be thin again. I HATE LOATHE and DESPISE exercise. Some days I tell myself that I only have to walk on the treadmill just to get my arse on the stupid thing. Most days I end up running anyway. I push myself harder and harder because I am competitive. I want to break my old "record". I also know that my calories burned is higher while running...and the more distance I can get in the shortest amount of time is what I aim for. Distance * (body weight * .63) = net calories burned is what I go by for running. Walking is just a measly half of that. I want it NOW.
On the plus side, I have gone down a pants size. Things that didn't fit are fitting again. There are still quite a few things that are waiting on me to get even smaller though. I am holding out. I am going to keep on keeping on. Even now when I am tired and frustrated. I guess I just need to amp up my exercise and really eat clean. EVERY day. EVERY day is a new day to start again.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Final thoughts on being an adult caretaker
So my mom has now moved back into her home with her husband (my stepfather) with 24 hour paid care. I have met 3 of the 4 caretakers. I actually really like the daytime caregiver. She takes them places and my stepfather is clean, dressed well and looks 100 times better than he did the last time I saw him. I have no doubt that she will take great care of my mom as well.
This leads me to a new anxiety. Letting go and letting someone else take over the care for my mother. Don't get me wrong - caring for my mother was one of the most difficult and life changing things I have ever done. I was tired 99% of the time and in the final weeks, I just wanted an end to it all. I've missed out on so much with my kids and basically was stuck in my house for 3 months Tuesdays through Fridays.
Despite all that, I took my role as an adult caregiver very seriously. I tried very hard to treat my mother the way that I would want to be treated if I were in her position. I didn't make her wear Depends even though it probably wasn't a bad idea. I did end up having her wear them to bed the last couple of weeks because she would forget where the bathroom was and how to go by herself. I only put clothes on her that I know she liked (my brother dressed her in a pair of jeans he bought her often...she HATES jeans and always has). I never brushed the curls out of her perm, but instead found an old large tooth comb that I had had for my spiral perms long ago. I made sure her hair was curly...and just the way she always has worn it. By the end of our time together, she claimed it as her own, so I wrote her name on it in Sharpie and put it in her bag. On St. Patty's day I loaned her a green sweater and when she declared that she loved it and thought it was such a pretty color, I told her it looked much better on her and that she could have it (it really did look better on her!) By writing all this, I am not trying to pat myself on the back. Believe me, I lost my cool and bit my tongue more than once. When she would tell my kids to "shut up", I would hold back my anger and chalk it up to an elderly person not being used to the way kids behave. My kids are loud...as is (or was) my mother...dinner time is never boring. /grin/
I believe that I could have been a much better caregiver at times, but I also believe that her time here was good for her. I will even venture to say that she misses us too. When hubby and I went to see her last Sunday (and bring her her favorite carrot cake cupcakes w/maple cream cheese frosting), she had been sad. My stepfather said our visit made her happy again and that he wanted me to come all the time. (Believe me...that's a pretty big compliment.) She asked about "her kids" and told me again how number 6 got mad at her when she would get after her. I smiled as usual and told her that number 6 was the child that she had always wished on me. My mini me!
In the end, doing the right thing is not always the easiest, but I will NEVER be sorry for doing it. I will NEVER be sorry for taking my mother with all her flaws and having the roles reversed for awhile. I will NEVER be sorry for setting an example for my children on how we are supposed to treat our parents despite what kinds of old hurts haunt us from our past. I did the right thing and I'd like to think that I grew as a person along the way.
This leads me to a new anxiety. Letting go and letting someone else take over the care for my mother. Don't get me wrong - caring for my mother was one of the most difficult and life changing things I have ever done. I was tired 99% of the time and in the final weeks, I just wanted an end to it all. I've missed out on so much with my kids and basically was stuck in my house for 3 months Tuesdays through Fridays.
Despite all that, I took my role as an adult caregiver very seriously. I tried very hard to treat my mother the way that I would want to be treated if I were in her position. I didn't make her wear Depends even though it probably wasn't a bad idea. I did end up having her wear them to bed the last couple of weeks because she would forget where the bathroom was and how to go by herself. I only put clothes on her that I know she liked (my brother dressed her in a pair of jeans he bought her often...she HATES jeans and always has). I never brushed the curls out of her perm, but instead found an old large tooth comb that I had had for my spiral perms long ago. I made sure her hair was curly...and just the way she always has worn it. By the end of our time together, she claimed it as her own, so I wrote her name on it in Sharpie and put it in her bag. On St. Patty's day I loaned her a green sweater and when she declared that she loved it and thought it was such a pretty color, I told her it looked much better on her and that she could have it (it really did look better on her!) By writing all this, I am not trying to pat myself on the back. Believe me, I lost my cool and bit my tongue more than once. When she would tell my kids to "shut up", I would hold back my anger and chalk it up to an elderly person not being used to the way kids behave. My kids are loud...as is (or was) my mother...dinner time is never boring. /grin/
I believe that I could have been a much better caregiver at times, but I also believe that her time here was good for her. I will even venture to say that she misses us too. When hubby and I went to see her last Sunday (and bring her her favorite carrot cake cupcakes w/maple cream cheese frosting), she had been sad. My stepfather said our visit made her happy again and that he wanted me to come all the time. (Believe me...that's a pretty big compliment.) She asked about "her kids" and told me again how number 6 got mad at her when she would get after her. I smiled as usual and told her that number 6 was the child that she had always wished on me. My mini me!
In the end, doing the right thing is not always the easiest, but I will NEVER be sorry for doing it. I will NEVER be sorry for taking my mother with all her flaws and having the roles reversed for awhile. I will NEVER be sorry for setting an example for my children on how we are supposed to treat our parents despite what kinds of old hurts haunt us from our past. I did the right thing and I'd like to think that I grew as a person along the way.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Nothing is more fabulous....
....than using your clothes line after a long, snowy winter!
The next two days are supposed to be sunny AND in the 60's. The snow has finally disappeared enough for me to get out of the cellar and to my clothes line. I AM SO STOKED!!!!! I have not hung anything outside since December. I have missed hanging especially my sheets and tablecloths.
Goodbye dryer and hanging laundry inside on the rolling wardrobe. You've served me well the last few months, but there is a new way to dry in town (finally). Thank you spring!
The next two days are supposed to be sunny AND in the 60's. The snow has finally disappeared enough for me to get out of the cellar and to my clothes line. I AM SO STOKED!!!!! I have not hung anything outside since December. I have missed hanging especially my sheets and tablecloths.
Goodbye dryer and hanging laundry inside on the rolling wardrobe. You've served me well the last few months, but there is a new way to dry in town (finally). Thank you spring!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Walk a mile
I'm so irritated and frankly, hurt.
This journey I'm on right now is all consuming. You all know that because it seems to be the only thing I can write about these days. I have baggage that weighs it down even more which I am trying to shuffle through...trying to heal, forgive - whatever needs to be done.
To be perfectly honest, I am resentful some days. I resent that I am shouldering something else in my already full up life, but what gets me the most is the fact that except for three family members (and one happens to be my brother who is also walking this walk with me), NO ONE really gives a shit. I have high school girl friends and internet friends who have taken the time to text me, call me, write to me - reminding me to keep my chin up - to keep on keeping on. WTF? Doesn't that seem a little backwards to you?
I had two nights in a row where I actually drank wine. TWO. And you would have thought the fucking earth stood still. I don't have a problem with alcohol, I promise. I am stressed beyond measure and yes, I am tense and prone to harsh words when this happens. Of course, you might know that if you actually gave a flying fuck and actually called/texted/checked in more than once.
I would like to just say this: Here are my shoes. Walk a mile in them and then get back to me. Until you become a caregiver for your adult parent who doesn't even know how to fucking wipe themselves anymore while trying to be a wife to a husband who has been strung out from snow storm after snow storm and a mother to 6 kids, don't judge. Don't even look at me funny because you know, I am apt to go off.
This journey I'm on right now is all consuming. You all know that because it seems to be the only thing I can write about these days. I have baggage that weighs it down even more which I am trying to shuffle through...trying to heal, forgive - whatever needs to be done.
To be perfectly honest, I am resentful some days. I resent that I am shouldering something else in my already full up life, but what gets me the most is the fact that except for three family members (and one happens to be my brother who is also walking this walk with me), NO ONE really gives a shit. I have high school girl friends and internet friends who have taken the time to text me, call me, write to me - reminding me to keep my chin up - to keep on keeping on. WTF? Doesn't that seem a little backwards to you?
I had two nights in a row where I actually drank wine. TWO. And you would have thought the fucking earth stood still. I don't have a problem with alcohol, I promise. I am stressed beyond measure and yes, I am tense and prone to harsh words when this happens. Of course, you might know that if you actually gave a flying fuck and actually called/texted/checked in more than once.
I would like to just say this: Here are my shoes. Walk a mile in them and then get back to me. Until you become a caregiver for your adult parent who doesn't even know how to fucking wipe themselves anymore while trying to be a wife to a husband who has been strung out from snow storm after snow storm and a mother to 6 kids, don't judge. Don't even look at me funny because you know, I am apt to go off.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Taking care of me
I am feeling frustrated with myself. I allowed myself to do something that I shouldn't have. I went down a path that wasn't for my feet and now that I've backtracked, I am hurting. The funny thing is, I don't think I ever realized that I'd end up being hurt. I knew I could hurt others, but I never thought about myself. Funny.
I think this is a vicious cycle. Not worrying about yourself until danger or disaster strikes. I think it is a learned trait. After talking with my mom last night, the similarities are dizzying. I have many of the same qualities as she does in regards to living life. Perhaps I need to seriously rethink some and change how I look at the others. I'm not sure, but what an eye opener.
I guess this is where I get angry. Angry at myself for allowing someone who I thought was my friend to treat me in a way that a real friend wouldn't get treated. Friends watch out for each other and don't do things to hurt them or lead them down paths that are long and windy and lead to a blind cliff for the friend to fall off. And when a friend apologizes for bad behavior, you don't just give them the silent treatment. A response is just common courtesy in my book - which means you don't have to absolve anyone, but you just need to accept what's offered and move on.
Perhaps I need to share these feelings with the person...of course, maybe they just aren't worth it after all. /sigh/
I think this is a vicious cycle. Not worrying about yourself until danger or disaster strikes. I think it is a learned trait. After talking with my mom last night, the similarities are dizzying. I have many of the same qualities as she does in regards to living life. Perhaps I need to seriously rethink some and change how I look at the others. I'm not sure, but what an eye opener.
I guess this is where I get angry. Angry at myself for allowing someone who I thought was my friend to treat me in a way that a real friend wouldn't get treated. Friends watch out for each other and don't do things to hurt them or lead them down paths that are long and windy and lead to a blind cliff for the friend to fall off. And when a friend apologizes for bad behavior, you don't just give them the silent treatment. A response is just common courtesy in my book - which means you don't have to absolve anyone, but you just need to accept what's offered and move on.
Perhaps I need to share these feelings with the person...of course, maybe they just aren't worth it after all. /sigh/
Saturday, January 22, 2011
To cry or to laugh.
I woke up crying this morning. I cried for much of the morning. Big heaving sobs. I know there is more behind the ones that have already come. I know I just need to cleanse and be done with it, but I also don't want to cry alone. I want so much for my hubby to be there to hold me and to just hug me until it's over. Now if I could only tell him that. If I could only open up and be vulnerable.
So I went on to FB and clicked on a link of Funny Autocorrect texts. I laughed so hard. I fought away the tears and laughed instead. It is true that there is a fine line between laughing and crying. I choose laughing today. I choose the "spit your coffee out while leftover snot blows out your nose" laughing. Laughing is way better than crying. Trust me.
So I went on to FB and clicked on a link of Funny Autocorrect texts. I laughed so hard. I fought away the tears and laughed instead. It is true that there is a fine line between laughing and crying. I choose laughing today. I choose the "spit your coffee out while leftover snot blows out your nose" laughing. Laughing is way better than crying. Trust me.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday morning
It's been a long week and it's not over. My mother came to me this week a day early and may leave a day late because of weather. Needless to say, I'm tired.
Sunday was a good day. Mom was at my brother's and I attended my wine club. 5-6 hours and 4-5 bottles of red wine later, hubby drove our sorry butts home. It felt good to connect with these women. They have been such a blessing in my life and have been some of my best cheerleaders the last couple of weeks. How thankful I am that they are in my life.
Monday was a weird day. No school because it was Martin Luther King, Jr. day and I was feeling a bit dizzy most of the day. Had some icy weather coming so my brother and I decided to do the exchange that day. I felt like I didn't have time to really prepare, but such is life.
For those who are wondering, the care for my mom is constant. I help with toileting (and toileting fails), showering, dressing, med dispersion. Last night I had a crash course in trimming toenails that are thick and yellow with age and haven't been cared for in I don't know how long. They looked terribly painful, but with a pan of warm, soapy water and some clippers and a pumice we got through it ok. My mother is also an emotionally needy person. She needs hugs & reassurances all the time. While I am very affectionate with my own children and husband, I do not feel particularly affectionate towards my mom most of the time. That is not to say that I am mean, but I probably seem distant to her. I keep busy with my daily chores of laundry, housekeeping and cooking - all the while mourning my temporary loss of freedom and ability to volunteer at school, shop alone, etc. I fall into bed each evening and pretty much pass out from exhaustion and maybe even a bit of depression.
Emotionally, physically, spiritually - this has been a drain. I couldn't imagine doing it without my children. They have ALL been wonderful. The other night I was just in a sour mood and needed some alone time. The eldest and his girl took care of Mom while I decompressed. And when I say decompress, I mean I sat and literally vegged in front of computer card game for like an hour. The little ones play with her and engage her in conversation. Number 4 even adds her into his rounds of jokes by calling her by her first name (I know - it sounds very disrespectful, but it really isn't - it makes her laugh). I have to say even number 3 who has been in trouble so much lately for not being responsible has stepped up to the plate getting himself up in the mornings, behaving really wonderfully. I'm so impressed with ALL of them. Although, I wonder sometimes if it is the emotional baggage I have that makes it so much harder for me? Something to ponder when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep.
I also experienced anxiety attacks for the first time this weekend and my lovely mouth broke out in another round of cold sores. I guess caring for my mother along with the other daily stresses that I experience has sent me over the edge. I'm still debating whether to seek medical advice. I don't think at this point that I would be able to take any meds. I also don't want to even KNOW what my blood pressure is hovering at. I haven't exercised since before Christmas except for shoveling (which is just an excuse to get my sorry ass out of the house and doing something - thank you very much).
I don't want to sound like I am whining. I probably do and for that I apologize. I have no one to really vent to except my sister and brother and really? My sister took care of my father (he had dementia too) and my brother takes my mother on the weekends. They both know the stresses and didn't/don't complain - at least to me. I just miss my few hours of quiet when number 6 is at school with the rest of them and my ability to come and go as I please. I miss going into school once a week to volunteer in a preschool or first grade classroom. I miss feeling like a wife, because trust me, there isn't any part of me who feels sexy or even remotely attractive these days.
Thankfully, I still get to go to church each week without worry. I still make the snack each week for Thursday's Bible based clubs for the youth at church. I still am able to talk to my bestie and text with whomever is around. I still cook, do laundry (and yes, still one of my quiet places...probably why I have not been behind since Mom moved in) and bake breads, cookies, cakes, etc. I guess what I am saying that I've given up a lot, but I am thankful for the things I still am able to do.
I don't think caring for my mom will get any easier and I know when we square away the legal stuff it will be even harder to leave my mother in a place that isn't one of our homes. I will feel amazing guilt over it, but I will feel relief too, which will in turn make the guilt even heavier. I am hoping perhaps that the guilty feeling will be better than the feelings I am experiencing now.
Sunday was a good day. Mom was at my brother's and I attended my wine club. 5-6 hours and 4-5 bottles of red wine later, hubby drove our sorry butts home. It felt good to connect with these women. They have been such a blessing in my life and have been some of my best cheerleaders the last couple of weeks. How thankful I am that they are in my life.
Monday was a weird day. No school because it was Martin Luther King, Jr. day and I was feeling a bit dizzy most of the day. Had some icy weather coming so my brother and I decided to do the exchange that day. I felt like I didn't have time to really prepare, but such is life.
For those who are wondering, the care for my mom is constant. I help with toileting (and toileting fails), showering, dressing, med dispersion. Last night I had a crash course in trimming toenails that are thick and yellow with age and haven't been cared for in I don't know how long. They looked terribly painful, but with a pan of warm, soapy water and some clippers and a pumice we got through it ok. My mother is also an emotionally needy person. She needs hugs & reassurances all the time. While I am very affectionate with my own children and husband, I do not feel particularly affectionate towards my mom most of the time. That is not to say that I am mean, but I probably seem distant to her. I keep busy with my daily chores of laundry, housekeeping and cooking - all the while mourning my temporary loss of freedom and ability to volunteer at school, shop alone, etc. I fall into bed each evening and pretty much pass out from exhaustion and maybe even a bit of depression.
Emotionally, physically, spiritually - this has been a drain. I couldn't imagine doing it without my children. They have ALL been wonderful. The other night I was just in a sour mood and needed some alone time. The eldest and his girl took care of Mom while I decompressed. And when I say decompress, I mean I sat and literally vegged in front of computer card game for like an hour. The little ones play with her and engage her in conversation. Number 4 even adds her into his rounds of jokes by calling her by her first name (I know - it sounds very disrespectful, but it really isn't - it makes her laugh). I have to say even number 3 who has been in trouble so much lately for not being responsible has stepped up to the plate getting himself up in the mornings, behaving really wonderfully. I'm so impressed with ALL of them. Although, I wonder sometimes if it is the emotional baggage I have that makes it so much harder for me? Something to ponder when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep.
I also experienced anxiety attacks for the first time this weekend and my lovely mouth broke out in another round of cold sores. I guess caring for my mother along with the other daily stresses that I experience has sent me over the edge. I'm still debating whether to seek medical advice. I don't think at this point that I would be able to take any meds. I also don't want to even KNOW what my blood pressure is hovering at. I haven't exercised since before Christmas except for shoveling (which is just an excuse to get my sorry ass out of the house and doing something - thank you very much).
I don't want to sound like I am whining. I probably do and for that I apologize. I have no one to really vent to except my sister and brother and really? My sister took care of my father (he had dementia too) and my brother takes my mother on the weekends. They both know the stresses and didn't/don't complain - at least to me. I just miss my few hours of quiet when number 6 is at school with the rest of them and my ability to come and go as I please. I miss going into school once a week to volunteer in a preschool or first grade classroom. I miss feeling like a wife, because trust me, there isn't any part of me who feels sexy or even remotely attractive these days.
Thankfully, I still get to go to church each week without worry. I still make the snack each week for Thursday's Bible based clubs for the youth at church. I still am able to talk to my bestie and text with whomever is around. I still cook, do laundry (and yes, still one of my quiet places...probably why I have not been behind since Mom moved in) and bake breads, cookies, cakes, etc. I guess what I am saying that I've given up a lot, but I am thankful for the things I still am able to do.
I don't think caring for my mom will get any easier and I know when we square away the legal stuff it will be even harder to leave my mother in a place that isn't one of our homes. I will feel amazing guilt over it, but I will feel relief too, which will in turn make the guilt even heavier. I am hoping perhaps that the guilty feeling will be better than the feelings I am experiencing now.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Oh Shitty Day - please go far, far away.
Today started off pretty good. Enjoyed a hot cup of coffee in a quiet house. Tended the fire to get the house warm for my Mom. Then my sister called.
Today was the day that my sister planned on removing my mother's things from her house. The lawyer (all civilized forms of communications are done through these people, right?) sent word back that my brother would be allowed to pick up my mother's things, no one would be allowed in the house AND my sister was not allowed ON the property per "their lawyer".
Ok, so my sister stayed on the sidewalk while my brother in law (her husband), his Dad and my eldest son removed the things in boxes that my stepfather's family had packed. When asked if there was anything missing, my sister noticed my mother's tea cup holder was not accounted for. My brother in law went back in and they said, "sorry, J. (stepfather) said that is his." When I heard this, my day started on the downhill track.
Now I am so effing angry. I can't seem to shake it. The day progresses and the knot in my tummy grows larger and larger. My sister arrives with my mother's picture of her and her twin brother when they were babies (they won a baby contest with this photo). My mother breaks down and sobs when she sees this photo. It means the world to her as she is the only one left out of her family. Her parents & siblings are all gone. My sister and I hug and during the hug she whispers in my ear that they have stolen all my mother's jewelry. ALL of it. None of these things was worth much, but they were handed down from my great grandmother to my Nana to my mother. They stole them. They stole pictures out of my mother's picture book that my sister made for her. They are money grubbing piece of shits. I wish I could have punched them all in the face. Really.
The granddaughter FORGED checks to the tune of 6-9 thousand dollars (to which the bank is in the process of gathering evidence to go after her) and yet they felt the need to steal from my mother. WHY? She never once treated them badly. She always treated them as family. I find it quite ironic that her own children NEVER, NOT ONCE, asked her for anything, yet these people received money and food every time they couldn't pay a bill or feed their children. I waiver back and forth thinking that my stepfather is a loser of epic proportions and then feel badly that he is left with these people. My boy told me that he smells and my brother in law said that he was greasy and unwashed. No one cares for his needs and yet he clings to his "house" and his "things". As much as I want to feel that we have far more than they will ever know, I am angry. And hurt. And frustrated at my lack of ability to do anything about it. I pine for my own father because he always knew what to do. He always knew the right thing. I don't know anything and again I am reminded that I suck at being the safety net. I'm not ready for this roll yet I know I have no choice.
I keep praying for strength and trying to remember that my faith will see me through, but I've gotta admit. It's not so easy today.
Today was the day that my sister planned on removing my mother's things from her house. The lawyer (all civilized forms of communications are done through these people, right?) sent word back that my brother would be allowed to pick up my mother's things, no one would be allowed in the house AND my sister was not allowed ON the property per "their lawyer".
Ok, so my sister stayed on the sidewalk while my brother in law (her husband), his Dad and my eldest son removed the things in boxes that my stepfather's family had packed. When asked if there was anything missing, my sister noticed my mother's tea cup holder was not accounted for. My brother in law went back in and they said, "sorry, J. (stepfather) said that is his." When I heard this, my day started on the downhill track.
Now I am so effing angry. I can't seem to shake it. The day progresses and the knot in my tummy grows larger and larger. My sister arrives with my mother's picture of her and her twin brother when they were babies (they won a baby contest with this photo). My mother breaks down and sobs when she sees this photo. It means the world to her as she is the only one left out of her family. Her parents & siblings are all gone. My sister and I hug and during the hug she whispers in my ear that they have stolen all my mother's jewelry. ALL of it. None of these things was worth much, but they were handed down from my great grandmother to my Nana to my mother. They stole them. They stole pictures out of my mother's picture book that my sister made for her. They are money grubbing piece of shits. I wish I could have punched them all in the face. Really.
The granddaughter FORGED checks to the tune of 6-9 thousand dollars (to which the bank is in the process of gathering evidence to go after her) and yet they felt the need to steal from my mother. WHY? She never once treated them badly. She always treated them as family. I find it quite ironic that her own children NEVER, NOT ONCE, asked her for anything, yet these people received money and food every time they couldn't pay a bill or feed their children. I waiver back and forth thinking that my stepfather is a loser of epic proportions and then feel badly that he is left with these people. My boy told me that he smells and my brother in law said that he was greasy and unwashed. No one cares for his needs and yet he clings to his "house" and his "things". As much as I want to feel that we have far more than they will ever know, I am angry. And hurt. And frustrated at my lack of ability to do anything about it. I pine for my own father because he always knew what to do. He always knew the right thing. I don't know anything and again I am reminded that I suck at being the safety net. I'm not ready for this roll yet I know I have no choice.
I keep praying for strength and trying to remember that my faith will see me through, but I've gotta admit. It's not so easy today.
Monday, January 10, 2011
So I did the emotional post...how about this?
I think Alzheimer's is catching. Why, you ask? Well, let me share this one little tidbit with you. This is just in addition to walking into rooms wondering what the hell I am doing there and walking around aimlessly when I'm supposed to be getting dinner started or doing some other daily chore that is a no brainer.
I grabbed my toothbrush, put toothpaste on it and jumped in the shower like I do everyday (What? I brush my teeth in the shower because it saves a step. Don't judge.). As I was washing my hair, I thought I heard water running. And yes, I understand that if I am standing in the shower, there is obviously water running, but I'm talking about a faucet running sound. I get out of the shower and the bathroom sink faucet is running. Huh? I don't remember turning on the faucet. I think someone crept into the bathroom once I was in the shower and turned it on. Yeah, that's it. That's what happened. It couldn't have been me who turned on the faucet to wet my toothbrush. Psssshaw.
Of course, Alzheimer's may not be catching and this could be just a coincidence since I slept (badly) on the couch and the house was hotter than H E double hockey stick. Having the house so hot makes me cranky...I'm sure this week will be even better since I'm PMSing. I sure hope THAT is not catching. My mother will be in for a real treat. /wink/
I grabbed my toothbrush, put toothpaste on it and jumped in the shower like I do everyday (What? I brush my teeth in the shower because it saves a step. Don't judge.). As I was washing my hair, I thought I heard water running. And yes, I understand that if I am standing in the shower, there is obviously water running, but I'm talking about a faucet running sound. I get out of the shower and the bathroom sink faucet is running. Huh? I don't remember turning on the faucet. I think someone crept into the bathroom once I was in the shower and turned it on. Yeah, that's it. That's what happened. It couldn't have been me who turned on the faucet to wet my toothbrush. Psssshaw.
Of course, Alzheimer's may not be catching and this could be just a coincidence since I slept (badly) on the couch and the house was hotter than H E double hockey stick. Having the house so hot makes me cranky...I'm sure this week will be even better since I'm PMSing. I sure hope THAT is not catching. My mother will be in for a real treat. /wink/
Adult Caregiving
So, I've stepped into the realm of being an adult caregiver. This isn't something I was totally unready for, but let's just say, I wasn't fully prepared either. Having had many children probably makes the adult caregiver role a bit easier since it requires many of the same things and strategies.
I've shared about my issues with my mother that go back to when I was a child. I now have full care of my mother most weekdays (she has Alzheimer's) for an undetermined amount of time. It is all consuming. It makes me want to cry many days. Sometimes for just being SO tired and other times just because the roles have reversed between mother and child. It is very hard hearing my mother tell me that she is confused and does not know "where she is". Sometimes I have little patience for hearing the same things over and over again, but then she'll sing along to some old country songs and her happiness makes everything right again.
I think this disease is pretty awful. To watch someone lose their faculties slowly, but steadily is pretty damn awful. While we can prepare ourselves that death is coming, you never know how long you will have to watch before it does. You never know what is in store that day. My sister has told me that I will have aged about 5 years if I have my mother for just one short month. She knows. She did this for my father who had dementia. I watched my grandmother deteriorate with this same disease and for the first time, I understand what my own mother must've went through. It's not fair, but as we all know, life isn't fair. I will say that I've been SO blessed with these amazing friends who text or send messages to make sure I have sanity checks and cheer me on.
I hope that my children are spared such things when it comes to their father and I although their compassion and love for their not often seen grandmother is really touching. They care for her, engage her in their life and give her love that she never knew until now. They have each made sacrifices for her to come and live here as comfortably as possible and not one of them has complained or acted like a nitwit. I'm so thankful for their ability to adapt and accept for their family.
I am mostly thankful for the opportunity to care for my mother. I am thankful that I can be the one to hug her when she is confused and tell her it is ok. Perhaps this will help heal my hurts from long ago, but even if it doesn't, I can say that I did the right thing. Not the easiest thing, but the right thing. I finally stepped up and did what was needed. I grew up.
I've shared about my issues with my mother that go back to when I was a child. I now have full care of my mother most weekdays (she has Alzheimer's) for an undetermined amount of time. It is all consuming. It makes me want to cry many days. Sometimes for just being SO tired and other times just because the roles have reversed between mother and child. It is very hard hearing my mother tell me that she is confused and does not know "where she is". Sometimes I have little patience for hearing the same things over and over again, but then she'll sing along to some old country songs and her happiness makes everything right again.
I think this disease is pretty awful. To watch someone lose their faculties slowly, but steadily is pretty damn awful. While we can prepare ourselves that death is coming, you never know how long you will have to watch before it does. You never know what is in store that day. My sister has told me that I will have aged about 5 years if I have my mother for just one short month. She knows. She did this for my father who had dementia. I watched my grandmother deteriorate with this same disease and for the first time, I understand what my own mother must've went through. It's not fair, but as we all know, life isn't fair. I will say that I've been SO blessed with these amazing friends who text or send messages to make sure I have sanity checks and cheer me on.
I hope that my children are spared such things when it comes to their father and I although their compassion and love for their not often seen grandmother is really touching. They care for her, engage her in their life and give her love that she never knew until now. They have each made sacrifices for her to come and live here as comfortably as possible and not one of them has complained or acted like a nitwit. I'm so thankful for their ability to adapt and accept for their family.
I am mostly thankful for the opportunity to care for my mother. I am thankful that I can be the one to hug her when she is confused and tell her it is ok. Perhaps this will help heal my hurts from long ago, but even if it doesn't, I can say that I did the right thing. Not the easiest thing, but the right thing. I finally stepped up and did what was needed. I grew up.
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