I'm tired of cooking/preparing 3 meals a day. It's just the two of us but boy oh boy can that woman eat!! She stays slimish, I get fattish. It's bad enough I do everything here much less start making her one thing and me the other. At times I feel guilty when I buy her fast food cuz of the nutritional value....not to mention I eat it too.
Tea4Me, I know just what you're talking about. My mother is still very controlling. Sometimes I want to say, "Mom, you don't have sense to come out of the rain now. Let me do it my way." Of course, wouldn't you know, sometimes what she suggests is actually better, so I have to munch humble pie.
I found a new saying for us here in the "whine" thread. "If I manage to survive the rest of the week, I would like my straight jacket in hot pink and my helmet to have sparkles on it, please!"
LOL
My FIL told me I was a prostitute, that I married my then-husband for money (I told him that was like saying I married him for his big you-know-what), that I was a witch and had put a spell on his wife so she wouldn't listen to him, and that he wanted to put a bullet in my head instead of a brain. 5 minutes later, I would be the nicest, sweetest person he'd ever met, I was the best thing that ever happened to his son, and he loved me.
Just have to roll with the punches sometimes and keep in mind where the talk is coming from.
edna is still pretty healthy aside from the dementia so time is still on our side -- along with ALL of the nh staff . when the temps hit 80 im going to take cuz terry trike riding all day ( for all i care ) and im not above bribing him with cash . he could sway pia and it'd still be cheaper and easier than legally battling for MPOA .
the nurse with the dirty knees ( head nurse ) wanted to know if she could take a pic of my truck -- shes having a hard time describing it to hubby . its just unusual because a tool box is built out over the top of the cab and a cool homemade air foil sits in front of the box .
it tells me i have the staff talking . they like me , my wild machines and my dedication to my aunt . edna and i are going truck riding this summer at whatever cost . theyve been warned , im wearing pia down ..
during the winter we were hauling a load of wood across a field with a big pond down the hill from us . the front tires of the truck slid in the snow just a couple of feet down the hill and that idiot flung the door wide open to bail out . not only is this hell on door hinges but she would have been bailing on the downhill side of a sliding truck . purely a dangerous overreaction . all women arent this dam sporatic -- this one is just not good around machinery .
It amazes me that throughout time women have allowed men to exist.
Dad already has a new primary doctor, a fine young man, who is literally just around the corner from their house. Take us 2 minutes to get there [but takes 20 minutes to get my parents into the car to take them there :P]. Told Dad to forget about his previous doctor, he didn't like her anyway.... I thought she was great, but both my parents think women shouldn't be doctors.... [head slapping moment].
Er..? You'll be lucky!
It's like I want to live in splendid isolation nowhere near any roads worth the name - and still be able to hail a cab and go to Starbucks. Tsk! You can't win!
Susan, I think fantasies of what we will say when we get our big chance to tell our dear families to fold it and shove it are what keep us going, aren't they???
Katie, I am SO with you there. Every now and then, I find myself looking through the real estate listings on Craiglist for far away places. Just a small cabin on the lake with wifi. That's all I want. I don't want neighbors, relatives or anything else at this point. I just want to be left alone. I'd be happy to face-time them on Skype or talk on the phone, but I want a home to myself with no one else to take care of. I've been providing caregiving in one form or another since I was 17 - children, spouse's relatives, spouse's parents, my own parents.....I'm done. I'm only 44 and I'm done. That just seems kind of sad to me.
Once mom is gone, no one in my family had better even think of asking me to care for someone else again. I have always done what needed to be done because I felt obligated to do so. No more.
Katie, I think caregivers suffer from Chronic Stress Disorder. I don't think there is an official disorder called that, but I think there ought to be. CSD -- we know what it is, for sure. I haven't met anyone here that has been at this longer than a year that doesn't have some symptoms of it.
Today I seriously thought about ordering a coffee mug I saw online - it has a drawing of a stick figure thrusting his hips towards the word "it". (Think about it, you'll get it...) That kind of sums up my attitude this morning.
Mom also takes a diuretic for swelling in her legs - every day. So couple that with weakened pelvic muscles, obesity, resistance to going to the bathroom when she should, so she holds it too long....and you've got a recipe for disaster. On good days, she goes through about 10 pads and 4 pairs of underwear. On bad days, you can double both numbers, at least. I wash her underwear so frequently that I had to order a whole new batch of 10 pairs because the ones I bought 6 months ago are getting thin and developing holes. I think I see the same pair of undies come through the wash at least 2x per day - I guess we're keeping Fruit of the Loom in business.
I know it's the dementia - but the fact that she is not completely into dementia yet, and is still pretty much all there, except for being forgetful, is what makes it hard. She resists going to the bathroom because she doesn't want me to tell her what to do. I get it - she's the mom, I'm the child - but the struggle to keep her clean and dry is maddening some days.
Others have it far worse here, so I keep telling myself that - I'm not the only one dealing with this and others are dealing with worse.
Mom has to take Lasix sometimes for swelling in her legs. Lasix, weak pelvic muscles, and slow walking together is a recipe for a lot of accidents. It's not too bad, though. I've told her several times that I'll take care of her as long as she is able to do most things for herself. So far, so good, but I don't know how much longer it will be.
I wish my mother's legs were as strong as her arms. She is in her bedroom moving furniture again today. I don't know why she does that, since I know she'll move it back in a few days. It's hard to understand what goes on in the minds of our parents at times.
fi yuo cna raed tihs it is lvinig porof taht sellpnig inst as ipmrotant as we tinhk!!!!
Mom is having another off day. They're getting closer together, and I'm not handling it so well today.
I get up to find she's been in the kitchen, and the bread is open on the counter and hanging over the side, with slices on the floor. Made herself a cheese sandwich...or two...she says. I'm just worn out with the constant need to make sure she eats properly, and on the one morning that I sleep in a little bit, she raids the kitchen - which makes me feel guilty for not being up.
Then she lays down for a bit, refusing to go to the bathroom because "I don't have to go", she says. Immediately, the cricket routine starts - rubbing her legs together because - of course - she has to go to the bathroom. She gets up and I say, "You have to go to the bathroom, don't you?" - her reply - "NO. I don't. I just wanted to get up." So then she gets up and goes to the bathroom, leaving a large wet spot on the bed, which she covers up with the bedspread so I don't see it, then leaves a puddle on the floor and dribbles all the way to the bathroom. I tell her that for not having to go, she's awfully wet. All she says is "yup". Then she sits in the bathroom for 20 minutes daydreaming while I'm waiting to get my shower, which runs me into more work on my schedule, eliminating the small window of time I had to get a shower. GRRRRR. When I ask if she's coming out soon, she snaps back, "What's the rush??" What's the rush? We have ONE bathroom in this house for 2 people - and occasionally the other of us needs to get in there while someone is sitting there staring into space!
Change the bed, change the chair pad, make sure she changes her incontinence pad and underwear, wipe up the floor.....and the day starts again.