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'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.

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.

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.

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/

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.

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.