If there’s one thing we could all use a little more of, it’s mercy.
Caregivers are notoriously hard on themselves. I know, I was my own worst judge.
Caregiving isn’t easy. It’s relentless, and you can’t get it all “right.”
You can’t go on three hours sleep, physically lift another human being from the bed to a potty chair, dress them, feed them, give them their morning meds, load them in a car, drive them to the doctors, fight with the doctors, beg for proper treatment and medicine, head to the pharmacy (for them not to have what you need), stop by the store, come home and fix dinner, bathe your loved one, dispense more medicine, be pleasant to a spouse, your kids, your dog, and fall in bed at midnight only to woken up at 2am–
and still be nice!
No way!
Not day after day.
Many of my days of caring for my mom was just like that–one thing after another–physical and emotional worries, non-stop care mixed in with aspects of my own dwindling life, and yeah…I messed up all the time.
Every day, I’d say the wrong thing, hurt someone’s feelings, show up late or forget something important…
And you know what? Five years later–after my mom has passed away–and I can now look back and be okay with my caregiving, with our relationship–with me and realize that I still did a pretty good job. I loved my mom, my family, and I did the best I could. And that’s good enough.
You can’t have a long term real relationship and not have lots of foibles–misunderstandings, hurts, resentments, aggravations, you-weren’t-there-for-me, and back-off moments. Lots.
Forgiveness is like butter to dry bread. It smooth and comforting and makes life palatable.
The word mercy means:
1. Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one’s power; clemency.
2. A disposition to be kind and forgiving: a heart full of mercy.
3. Something for which to be thankful; a blessing: It was a mercy that no one was hurt.
4. Alleviation of distress; relief: Taking in the refugees was an act of mercy.
Giving yourself mercy means:
- you treat yourself with compassion
- you are kind to yourself and offer forgiveness when needed
- you are grateful for this experience and your choice to participate in caring for another
- and all this–leads to less stress! A sense of peace
I need mercy every day, and now I realize I’m the only one who has the power to give it.
The Psalmist David used the word mercy 128 times in the book of Psalms–to either describe God or ask for his loving mercy. Today, mercy is used in so many scenarios that I wonder if we’ve forgotten that it isn’t something to be used to get out of trouble (mercy/clemency, mercy killing, have mercy on my soul, mercy me!) but its deeper root is meant to make peace with yourself.
If I can’t accept my own missteps, then how can I ever expect anyone else to offer me one ounce of acceptance? How can I extend mercy to others unless I first cultivate it in my own heart toward “me?”
I’ve decided to write MERCY on three index cards and keep them in my pocket.
I carry them around with me–and if I screw up, I give myself a mercy card.
I can also mentally offer those I love a mercy card when they screw up.
Years ago, my husband and I decided that if either of us locked our keys in the car, had a fender bender, or the countless other little mess-ups that occur–things you certainly don’t mean to do, that we’d kindly offer our help and support and not give each other a hard time about it. Nobody wants to have to call someone to bring them a set of keys or tell them they crunched somebody’s bumper. We just knew that we didn’t want to be in a marriage where we had to fight or belittle the person we loved over “accidents.”
A couple of months ago, my husband went fishing with a friend. He got to the marina and realized he forgot his fishing license. I got the call (at about 6:30 am on a Sunday), got dressed and drove 20 minutes to give him his wallet. I handed it to him, kissed him good bye (I was still in my pjs) and hopped back in the car.
Later, my husband told me that his friend couldn’t believe I didn’t chew him out for making me bring him his wallet. (He didn’t make me–I chose to) Because of our agreement to give each other a break, my husband could go on and enjoy his day and not beat himself up for ruining a long-planned-for fishing trip–or for inconveniencing me. It was a gift.
Who needs more guilt added to their plate?
Besides, I’ve screwed up so many times–big and little–that it’s just best not to keep count. I don’t want a tit-for-tat marriage.
Caregivers, especially need mercy. Those who deal with the day-to-day issues of Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, heart disease, strokes, cancer, and many other debilitating conditions deserve an extra dose.
If you yelled, snapped back, grabbed their arm a bit too rough, was impatient, testy, forgot something important, or said something really callous–say you’re sorry, mean it, and then let it go.
You have a good heart.
You’re just overwhelmed, exhausted, irritated, and hurt. That doesn’t make you a bad person.
If I learned anything in the years of living and writing Mothering Mother, it’s that forgiveness, aka mercy, is so needed–and appreciated by all. After awhile, this gift of mercy has a wonderful and surprising effect:
You begin to offer people mercy when they don’t even ask for it, maybe don’t even deserve it.
Why? Because giving and receiving mercy feels good. Remember–less stress? It become a habit, and by offering mercy, not even in the form of words, but in attitude and demeanor, you diffuse the situation.
Hurt, resentment, bitterness loses its power when mercy is offered.
It’s not that you’re trying to be a goodie, goodie, pious person who thinks they’re perfect and/or is trying to make an impression. Practicing mercy will eventually become a way of life. It feels good and we humans tend to like to repeat experiences that make us feel good-and you never know when you’ll need to offer it to yourself because I can promise you’ll (I’ll) never stop screwing up! Consider it karma–or as my Mama used to put it, “What goes round, comes round.” (Southern karma)
This isn’t about becoming saintly. I’ve learned that I can be selfish, petty, and greedy at the drop of a hat. I don’t know if I’ll ever control all my demons, but that’s not the point. Why would I ever not want to need mercy?
Don’t wait–make those index cards and keep them close at hand. Offer yourself and your loved ones a little bit of mercy.
~Carol D. O’Dell
author of Mothering Mother
available on Amazon and in most bookstores.
Tags: Alzheimers, blog, book, caregiving, Caring.com, Carol D. O'Dell, contributing author, forgiveness, grief and loss, inspirational essay, mercy, Mothering Mother, Open to Hope
Caregiver relationships are as complicated as everybody else’s.
Caregiving isn’t always sweet and sentimental.
What happens if you need to/are asked to care give someone who has hurt you deeply?
I met a woman at a book club once and her face revealed her suffering. She shared that her husband had late stage Parkinson’s and she was basically housebound and caring for him 24/7. She looked beyond exhausted.
She also shared that she probably should have left him years ago.
Sometimes we stay–for the kids–for the security.
Because we were too chicken to leave. Now it’s too late. We need to finish what we started.
I’ve lived long enough and have been married long enough to understand how very complicated things get.
My “book club” lady shared she really didn’t love him any more.
He had killed that long ago.
Many times relationships are mangled beyond repair.
Repeated infidelity. Addictions. Isolation and control. Verbal or physical abuse.
There are things we never tell anyone.
I’ve volunteered in shelters, counseled couples, and have found that the deepest hurts usually go unsaid.
***
So why do it? Why care give someone who you simply can’t love any more?
Why stay when you may only have a few years left yourself?
Each person has to figure that out for themselves.
Sometimes it’s not that black and white.
Yes, there are hurts. And no, you don’t feel anything for that person, but you have your reasons. Maybe it’s in part how you need to see yourself.
So you stay.
How do you love someone who has hurt you?
- Don’t try to make yourself love them.
- Don’t feel guilty.
- Don’t try to look noble.
- Do what you can.
- Choose a path of integrity.
- Caregiving isn’t about the person who is ill, aged or infirmed. It’s about you.
- Decide who you want to be, regardless of them.
- Mentally and emotionally separate yourself. You’re still giving them good care.
- Trust your good heart.
- Practicing a faith can bring you deep comfort.
- Know that forgiveness can be as basic as wishing them no harm.
If you choose to stay, then stay on your terms.
It’s okay if you can’t do this–care give full time. You can choose to place them in a care facility. You’re still being responsible. You’re still watching out for them.
You don’t have to humiliate yourself and continue to be demeaned.
They chose their path. You choose yours.
Find your place of peace. Detach when you need to. Methodical caregiving can still be good caregiving.
Begin to nurture yourself. Your dreams.
Reward yourself for what you’ve chosen to do if you believe it’s the right thing to do.
Duty. Responsibility. Integrity.
These are important words our culture has all but forgotten.
Choose a higher path, and sometimes, that higher path is honoring “you.”
~I’m Carol D. O’Dell, the author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
www.mothering-mother.com
Alzheimer’s usually strikes when someone is older–a time in their life when people typically slow down.
Many Alzheimer’s live on the edge–always anxious, overly alert, agitated, and sometimes mean.
A common sight in a memory disorder unit, facility, or center (they can be called different names) is to see a person walking and walking. Pacing like a caged cougar.
They never sit. They have a wild look in their eye.
Only when you see several Alzheimer’s/dementia/Lewy Body (a Parkinson’s form of dementia) all together do you realize that your loved one isn’t the only one who does this–that it must be the effect of Alzheimer’s on the brain and nervous system.
It’s exhausting to watch and even more exhausting to keep up with.
It can cause them to wander–try to slip out–and if they do, get lost.
That’s a caregiver’s worst nightmare–their loved one out side of safety, vulnerable to everything and everyone from being hit by a car, lost in the woods, or god forbid–hurt by someone cruel.
Why can’t people with dementia or Alzheimer’s seem to settle down and relax?
Agitation is one of the challeges of Alzheimer’s behavour.
Agitation and other behavoiral changes are caused by the changes in the brain–the brain is in many ways, shrinking. The delicate pistons that fire the synapse is not always firing or hitting the intended area or “target.” This can cause all kind of sensations–a person can become sensitive to sound or light or texure–they can crave it or recoil from it. There can sometimes be hallucinations, delusions, (especially with Lewy Body–which usually includes more of a shuffled walk)
A person with advanced Alzheimer’s can forget how to talk and only babble.
Many things can happen in our brains, which means Alzheimer’s will effect people differently.
What do you do if your spouse/parent/loved one paces/walks incessantly?
- If the person with Alzheimer’s becomes anxious or If it’s safe, let them walk. I know you think they’re old, their knees are in bad shape, and how can they keep doing this? It’s a need, a drive–and at this stage of the game, their knees can’t be your primary concern. Let them walk.
- Listen to the person’s frustration. Does it make sense? Can you help in some way? Does the cat bother them–or the red planter in the window? If there’s something that’s irratating them–no matter how odd–and you can move it, then move it.
- Reassure the person. Use calming phrases and let the person know you’re there for them but also realize this may not comfort them at all. Do the best you can. Know when to be firm. Say it in a kind way, but if they’re trying to get out the door, then you will have to distract and be firm–for their own safety.
- Many people (men and women) respond better to a male voice. They perceive it as the voice of authority, so consider using a lower, clearer tone–or finding a male to impersonate Barry White for you!
- Don’t use so many words when giving direction. Be clear. 2-3 words are enough. “Sit in this chair.” “Time to eat.” Don’t yell or startle them even when it seems like it is needed. It usually doesn’t work and will only make things work. You can firmly state, “NO.” Use your strong voice, not a yelling panic voice.
- Even those with brain disorders can pick up on fear or anger–it’s contagious!
- Involve the person in activities. Use art, music or touch to help the person relax. This isn’t patronizing even though it feels like pre-school. Music therapy really does work and has been documented to sooth those who are agitated.
- Modify the environment. Decrease noise and distractions or move to another place. Just as with a young child, you baby proof your cabins and put up baby gates to keep them from falling down the stairs. This isn’t treating your elder with disrespect. This is to make them safe.
- Keep a look out for new possible hazards. It’s amazing the trouble one person with Alzheimer’s can get into!
- Find outlets for the person’s energy. Have you been outsidein the last few days? Gone for a car ride? If this is no longer possible, then have you opened the windows? Aired out the place? Can you play ball or fold towels? Some people really need that tactile sensation. Some women like dolls. Some people respond to a small dog–for others it would be a danger (for the dog, I mean
). Can you keep a Tupperware drawer and create “jobs” for them of loading and unloading?
- Keep a sense of humor. It’s just the brain gone kaflooey. Your loved one isn’t trying to mean (most of the time) or drive you crazy (most of the time).
- If you find your patience is gone for the day, then maybe you need to go as well. Just because your loved one can’t take a walk doesn’t mean you can’t.
If you’re dealing with the later stages of Alzheimer’s, dementia and memory loss, then know that you are dealing with a massive amount of stress.
Most professionals burn out at this point, and in many memory loss units, some are advised to only work three days a week so that the stress doesn’t hurt them or ripple out to the patients and their families.
You have got to de-stress! Even if you just visit your loved one, you have to let it go after the visit.
You know how you have to go through decontamination if you are exposed to radioactive material? Visualize that. Walk, cry, scream, eat–don’t forget to eat–but if you’re food cramming (stress eating in other words) then forbid anyone to bring Oreos or Doritios or whatever triggers you.
You’re in a more stressful job than air traffic control. Treat your body and your heart with tenderness during this very difficult time. Don’t expect to be on an even keel. Expect to cry, feel numb, zone out, not be able to talk about your experience–this is profound, and while that sounds terrible, it’s not. You can do this and do it with love and compassion. Your loved one needs you to watch over them.
Also know that this is the stage where many of our loved ones have to placed in a facility–for their safety and yours–because their needs are more than you and your team/community can manage.
It’s okay if this happens. You’ve done all you can. Say thank you for the help, for the option. Let them take some of the load. Find the best place you can. Visit often. Be vigilant and watch over your loved one–but know that it’s time to begin to let go. It’s time to allow others to help.
• Stay calm and be understanding. • Be patient and flexible
• Look for reasons for each particular
• Respond to the emotion, not the behavior
• Don’t argue or try to convince
• Acknowledge requests and respond to them
• Accept the behavior as a reality of the disease and try to work through it
It’s also important to prepare other family members before they visit.
Alzheimer’s can be very disturbing if you’re not familiar with the “quirks” that come with it. By talking about it ahead of time, letting the person know what they’ll see or how they’ll be talked to or treated–and how to react–will help immensely.
CNA’s and other elder-health professionals get training in dealing with Alzheimer’s behaviour, but sadly most family caregivers don’t. They have to figure it out for themselves. Many loved ones are placed in a care facility prematurely (or too late) because we simply don’t know what to say or do.
Alzheimer’s is kind of like the wizard in the Wizard of Oz. Once you go behind the curtain–begin to analyze what’s happening, why, and have tools and coping mechanisms–it’s not so intimidating.
These are still our loved ones.
Trapped inside every feeble or rigid body, behind every frozen face or babbling talk, is someone’s mom, dad, husband or wife.
Please visit this blog again!
Carol is the author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir. It’s available on Amazon and in bookstores.
Tags: Alzheimers, authors, books, Caregiver Stress, caregiving, Carol D. O'Dell, Carol O'Dell, CNA, featured article, grief, healthcare, inspirational essay, memoir, memory disorder units, Mothering Mother, Open to Hope
Recently, at a
caregiver’s conference I started my talk about my
caregiving journey–and that my mom had Alzheimer’s. A woman jumped up out of her seat, let out a cry, and ran out of the room. The director followed her out the door.
Later, the director shared that the woman’s mom had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and this was the first event she had attended. This was the first time she was admitting to herself that her mother had Alzheimer’s.
Alzheimer’s is a tough diagnosis.
Many people hear the word and instantly get an image of their loved one completely uncontrollable–who no longer knows who they are.
It’s worse than any horror movie.
You feel like you’re reeling. You think you’d rather it be cancer, or a heart attack–why this?
Why is Alzheimer’s so scary?
Because Alzheimer’s, like cancer has a ripple effect. We’re afraid of what the end will be like. We’re afraid our loved ones will suffer. We’re afraid of how bad it’ll get.
We’re afraid it might be in our genes, too.
Afraid, afraid, afraid.
People are afraid they’ll get Alzheimer’s, and then if they do get it, they’re afraid of what the end will be like. That’s a lot of fear. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to be mauled to death by a bear, then bring it on–cause worrying about it for two decades will kill me with an ulcer before I ever see a bear!
Getting that dreaded diagnosis means your life as you know it is over.
Really?
Is it all or nothing?
Does your brain, your personality, your purpose and dreams all fall out of your head the second the doctor utters this terrible word?
NO.
You (or your loved one) have probably been living with Alzheimer’s/dementia for awhile.
Life’s been pretty good, right? Sure–some slippage–some “what’s that called, what’s his name” moments–but hasn’t there also been some quality of life?
Does it mean that mom (or me, her caregiver) will never see our friends, go on vacation, ever again?
No, it doesn’t!
You have time.
Think about it. Nothing has really changed since yesterday, or whatever was the day before your diagnosis. You may have thought something was “off,” but you still went to the grocery store and ate dinner, right?
I’m not saying it’s a picnic, my mother had Alzheimer’s and lived with us the last almost three years of her life, so I’ve seen this disease up close. But now that there’s such an awareness of Alzheimer’s, there’s earlier diagnosis–which means people are getting treated earlier.
Drugs such as Aricept, Exelon, Cognex, and Razadyne work well on many people who are in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. You can take your meds, and still enjoy so much of life.
What can you do if you or your loved has Alzheimer’s?
(It depends on age, stage, and other existing illnesses)
On one hand, keep right on truckin’ as the cliche goes. Keep living your life.
On the other hand, take a trip. Do it now. Go to Greece. Go to Rome. Have that 50th wedding anniversary party–do whatever you’ve been putting off.
Yes, go with a friend, your spouse–take a tour. Take your meds, don’t over do it, but go! So what if you forget the busboy’s name on the cruise ship. So what if you and your wife walk everywhere together hand in hand.
Get together with friends. Talk about it. Let them ask questions.
Let’s educate our loved ones. Let’s get over the stigma. Let’s show them that life indeed does go on. Enjoy dinner, enjoy eating out–crack a joke and watch everybody bristle as to whether to laugh or not.
Go for a walk. Your legs aren’t broke, you know. You don’t have to become a couch potato. If your finger can flip channels, it can surf the ‘net. Raise money for Alzheimer’s research or blog and share your journey with others. That’s what Terry Prachett is doing. He’s a well-known writer who has Alzheimer’s and he’s donating monies and bring awareness to this disease. You might as well use it to do some good in the world.
There are no guarantees for anyone–so why not have the best Christmas ever? Get that toy train you’ve always wanted. Take that family portrait with the kids, grand kids and great grand kids. Wear a Santa suit and pass out presents.
This is the time to video or audio record your life, your memories, your songs and stories.
Life is precious. Memories are to be passed on and held dear. So find the time when you are rested and clear headed to go ahead and yack and yack and tell all the stories you can think of–about you, your career, your adventures, your sorrows and your victories.
You know the old saying, “The best revenge is a good life.” Well, take revenge on Alzheimer’s and show the world just how good life is.
Nothing is better than an ordinary day–feeding the cat, reading the paper, putzing to the store. It’s those quiet days that become a deep source of pleasure. So fully enjoy each day. Watch Family Feud, eat popcorn, prop your feet up on the coffee table.
What if you’re forgetting more than you’re remembering these days?
Then spend this tender time with those you love. Tell them you love them–now.
Ask them to remember for you. Create a system of post-it notes, alarm clocks, and every memory helper gadget you can find. But more importantly, sit with your sweety, play with your dog–and just be present.
What if the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s comes after there’s much memory loss?
Then know as a caregiver that while your loved one may at times feel agitated and scared–Alzheimer’s is not physically painful. There is some pain at the end of life (but that’s related to the shutting down or bodily systems). The hardest part regarding pain is that late stage Alzheimer’s patients can suffer pain from another ailment and not be able to communicate it (such as a bladder infection, toothache, heart condition, etc).
Yes, Alzheimer’s is confusing (and that falls under emotional pain), I”m not belittling the ramifications of this disease and its impact on families in any way.
What can I do as a caregiver/loved one to help?
- Be patient
- Don’t get overly emotional–that’s scares them
- Stay in charge–that makes them feel safe
- Keep them safe
- Take care of yourself, pace yourself–this could be along haul
- Let them talk about deceased loved ones/careers/the war–and enjoy listening
- Don’t get caught up in the million question game
- Don’t take their outbursts seriously
- Do what’s right and don’t let them manipulate you
- Provide what they like as much as possible (likes will eventually fade)-food, music, art, sports
- Introduce yourself and who you are–daughter, nurse, etc. every time you see them (If they’re forgetting who people are)
- Don’t be offended when they forget who you are to them–even if you’re their wife of 50 years
- Don’t take it personal if another person, animal, or inanimate object seems to make them happier than you do–it’s just this wacky disease
- Know that they love you even when they can’t verbalize it
- Remember for them. Write their stories, sing their songs, play the music they loved when they were dating
- Keep a watchful eye on them in the hospital and care facilities–no one will pay attention and catch mistakes more than a loved one
- When the end comes, give them your verbal permission to let go
- Stay up beat. They need you more than ever
Don’t get me wrong–I’m all for falling apart, so you’ll need to fall apart every now and then.
But fall apart in the closet, in the shower, in the car. Scream, cry, beat the steering wheel. This is a mean son of…, and you have every right to be angry at this disease. That’s important.
Don’t just think about Alzheimer’s all the time.
Occupy your thoughts with a song, a new recipe, the color you’ll paint your bedroom next month. Don’t abandon your marriage or your kids or all your hobbies. You need a life (however small it may seem to shrink).
Don’t dwell on this disease–that’s giving it way too much power.
It is what it is.
Eventually, you’ll reconcile yourself to Alzheimer’s. You will if it hangs around enough to absolutely wear you out.
I don’t know if I made peace with it as much as I just got tired of it–and its reign of terror over my home and my mother.
Reconciliation isn’t the same as giving up. It’s about allowing.
You can fight it–beat your chest and beg–but it won’t let go.
So laugh at the crazies, hug and hold hands as much as you can. Scream and cry when you need to.
Create your own village of support, and be “okay.” I don’t know if you’ll ever get better than “okay.” Remember the movie As Good as It Gets with Jack Nicholson?
What a line! He bursts into his therapist’s office, and he’s OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and aggitated as can be–and he looks around the room and asks the other sad, freaked out and irritable people in the room–”What if, this is as good as it gets?”
I find that comforting. To just take a breath and be okay with how things are. Right now.
I don’t know where you are–if your loved one just got the news and you’re still reeling.
Or maybe you’re in your tenth year and your mom’s in a care facility and she has absolutely no connection to reality.
No matter which case, you can’t get to any level of peace without going through the fire.
You will find your way. You will have a good moment, an allowing moment here and there–when life and your loved one–and all that you’re going through is ironically, “okay.”
Oh, and about the gal who ran out of the conference crying?
I met her–and her mom walking through the mall last Christmas. She introduced me to her mom–with tenderness and pride.
I’m Carol O’Dell, and I wrote Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir. You can purchase my book on on Amazon and in bookstores.
My mom may have had Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and a heart condition, but she could still say and do the craziest things.
It’s okay to laugh. We have to. If we don’t, we’ll just dissolve into a puddle on the floor.
Why is laughter so good for you?
“The old saying that ‘laughter is the best medicine,’ definitely appears to be true when it comes to protecting your heart,” says Michael Miller, M.D., F.A.C.C., director of the Center for Preventive Cardiology at the University of Maryland Medical Center. “We don’t know yet why laughing protects the heart, but we know that mental stress is associated with impairment of the endothelium, the protective barrier lining our blood vessels. This can cause a series of inflammatory reactions that lead to fat and cholesterol build-up in the coronary arteries and ultimately to a heart attack,” says Dr. Miller who is also an associate professor of medicine at the University of Maryland School of Medicine.
Cool, huh?
So, what makes you laugh?
Think about the movies where you’d laughed out loud.
I just saw Tropic Thunder–and laughed until my sides hurt.
I warn you–it’s raunchy from the beginning to the end (and I’m not usually a raunchy humor kind of gal–not a big Austin Powers fan). But it’s also well-written and sharp.
Make Your Own Funny List
- Funny movies
- Funny friends
- Great jokes
- Funny songs or rhymes
- Funny or ironic moments in your own life
- Funny, sharp, witty turns of phrases
- Funny books or authors
Begin to see the “funny” in each day. Start looking for it.
The Benefits of Laughter
Dr. Lee Berk and fellow researcher Dr. Stanley Tan of Loma Linda University in California have been studying the effects of laughter on the immune system. Published studies have shown that laughing has the following benefits:
- Lowers blood pressure
- Rreduces stress hormones
- Increases muscle flexion
- Boosts immune function by raising levels of infection (fighting T-cells, disease-fighting proteins called Gamma-interferon and B-cells, which produce disease-destroying antibodies)
- Triggers the release of endorphins, the body’s natural painkillers, and produces a general sense of well-being
Wow! Too bad the pharmaceutical companies haven’t caught on. I wish they’d include a complimentary Saturday Night Live video with each of their prescriptions!
I’ve laughed my head off at an indecisive squirrel who just can’t seem to make it across the road. I’ve laughed at my dog eating peanut butter–I’ve laughed at my ability to trip walking down a flat sidewalk!
Recently, I was at a caregiver’s conference, and after my talk–in which I do a one-act play of my mother and I having an arguement about me refusing to wear a slip–a woman in the audience whispered in my ear, “It’s probably been over a year since I laughed. I laughed today.”
There is no better gift she could have given me.
We caregivers can get too darn serious. Sure, we’ll dealing with disease and end-of-life issues–but the absurdities and incongruities of life are even more ironic, more funny when there’s so much at stake.
Mark Twain said,
|
Everything human is pathetic. The secret source of Humor itself is not joy but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven.
- Following the Equator, by Mark Twain |
Finding the funny in caregiving kept me alive. I had to write about all the crazy, irreverent, whoopsy-daisy moments caregiving brought into my life. Sometimes I wrote about it with biting sarcasm, other times, it’s tinged with sorrow. You can’t separate it–caring for our loved ones is bitter sweet.
I’m grateful that my mother could laugh at herself–at us. When I was a child (she was my adoptive mother and 50 years older than me), we’d watch Jack Benny together and Red Skelton. We’d laugh and laugh. I’d stack their stand up routine against today’s finest–and they’d still trump these guys (and gals!)
Remember the old Art Linkletter show? About kids saying funny things?
Here are a couple of excerpts from Mothering Mother when my mother was at her finest!
Remote
Mother can’t figure out all this “high-falutin’ machinery,” as she calls it. The phone rings,
“Hello. Hello? Hello!”
She doesn’t know she’s picked up the remote control.
“Hello!”
No one answers. She sets it on the table, thinking she’s hung up the phone, but somehow she’s knocked the real phone off the hook. It starts making that noise. I reach over and hang it up.
I look at her but don’t say a thing. I’m trying not to laugh.
“They must have hung up,” she says.
I agree.
“Yes, mother. Someone has definitely hung up.”
***
No Bacon?
I need to go to church. I need to get out this house, wear a dress and sit on a pew and sing a hymn and pray. I desperately need to know I’m not just out here on my own.
I dress and hurry to fix Mother some breakfast. I place cereal, toast, coffee and cut-up bites of cantaloupe in front of her, then hand her the little silver tray of pills, the same silver tray she always handed to Daddy, and give her some water to take her medicine with.
You can’t hurry Mother anymore. She’s worse than a preschooler meandering down the sidewalk, pausing to examine a ladybug on a blade of grass and pocketing every pebble.
“Are you sure I take this purple pill now?” Mother stares at the silver tray as if I’m trying to poison her.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Where’s the yellow one? I need to take the yellow one.” She dumps the pills from the tray into her hand.
“No, Mother, that’s with lunch. You take these with breakfast.”
“Is it breakfast time? I thought it was late afternoon.”
“Yes, honey, it’s breakfast. Swallow these pills and then you can eat.”
“Where are you going?” She looks around the room, tilts her hand, and drops the purple pill onto the floor. I find it on the carpet.
“Church, and I need to hurry.” I put the pill on her tongue.
“Is it Sunday? I need to go to church, too.” The pill drops out of her mouth.
“No, Mother, you’re not strong enough today, sweetie. Phillip is staying home with you today.” I pick it back up.
“I can get ready in a jif.”
“Mother, take these pills. I need to go.”
“Aw, you’d wait for me.” She reaches in her house robe pocket and pulls out a long strand of pearls then puts them on over her housecoat.
I rub my face to keep from chuckling at her attire or screaming at how long this is taking.
I think of what she’s really like, of the Sunday mornings of my childhood and our intricate dance of preparation. The ironing that commenced on Saturday afternoon, the cleaning out of her purse, the polishing of everyone’s shoes, the check of the nylon hose for runs, the dab of clear fingernail polish… on and on… late into the night, beginning again early on Sunday morning, culminating in southern perfection.
Now, it’s a sling of the beads over a well-worn housecoat and she’s good to go. This isn’t like her.
“No, I can’t wait for you, honey. Maybe you can go next Sunday, but you can’t make it today.” I don’t like the sound of my own voice, the hurry inside me.
“Who’s gonna stay with me?”
“Phillip. Now take these pills and sit down and eat.” Five minutes later, I’ve scooted her from the bed to the chair and put the tray in front of her. She surveys it, scanning the food as if she’s a New York food critic, flicking a cantaloupe chunk onto its side with her fingernails. I turn on the television to a preacher I know she likes and take a step back, sneaking out of the room the way I did when my girls were babies so they wouldn’t cry.
“What?” She looks around on her plate. “No bacon?”
***
I’ve heard some of the greatest stories by families and caregivers around the country.
One story I can share is about a man who works at home and takes care of his mom who has Alzheimer’s. She “goes to work” with him–sits right beside him at the computer. When the man’s wife comes home from work, the man’s mother goes ballistic. She sees his wife as “the other woman.” She hides her purse, pinches her under the table, and tells her “to leave her man alone.”
That could really mess with your head!
***
One more story–(I have a million!)
A friend of mine was placing her 91 year-old mother in a care facility (falling/memory loss). She and her sister were cleaning out her mom’s house and consolidating things. She found a rather bright pink Las Vegas type dress–kind of ballroomy with lots of sequins. They decided to donate it to Goodwill and couldn’t imagine who the dress even belonged to–surely not their mother!
A month later their mother asks her daughter’s, “Did you all see that pink dress I had in the back closet? I want to be buried in that dress.”
The two daughters looked at each other–tried not to laugh–and said of course, that would be perfect.
They spent the next 2 months trying to track down the dress. Sequins and all.
***
So come on, share your stories!
Let’s laugh to the point of tears–not laugh at each other but at life and all it throws our way.
I’ll post them on my site and they’ll go to thousands of readers. Just think…you could help someone smile today.
Carol O’Dell is the author of Mothering Mother, available at Amazon
How can a person who doesn’t remember their own son or daughter, keeps their purse in the freezer and thinks that trees are talking to them act completely normal in front of a stranger?
It’s called social convention abilities, or social response abilities, which means your loved one who you know has dementia/Alzheimer’s, can get their act ”together” in front of the doctor or some other person and talk or act fine.
It can seem as if you’ve been tricked.
Social convention means that all those years we’ve walked past someone and said, “Hello, how are you? I’m fine” are now hard-wired in our brains.
We answer without thinking.
We sit up straighter when someone we don’t know enters the room, we act polite when we’re talking to a stranger, or wave when waved to, smile, even laugh at the appropriate pause in the story.
Professional care providers and those who work in the mental health field know about this, but I haven’t heard it discussed among caregivers–and this is important to know.
A person can access this ability when they’re in a new setting or with new people (stimulation) and they can act perfectly fine when just a few minutes ago they were having a conversation with a Dwight D. Eisenhower!
This can be so frustrating.
You were worried, got them dressed, killed yourself to get to the appointment on time–and now they’re chatting it up with the nurse.
The behavior you’ve observed at home is the “real deal.”
This doesn’t mean your loved one doesn’t have dementia/Alzheimer’s.It doesn’t mean they don’t need meds or assistance.
You’re not crazy, but it can feel like you are.
I hated when my mom did this–I felt like such an idiot for traipsing to the doctor yet again for my mother to say no, her knee didn’t hurt, no, she wasn’t having headaches. Then, they’d all look at me as if I were making the whole thing up!
Memory and recognition will vacillate.
Your loved one will remember who you are, and then forget. They will remember their spouse has passed, and then insist you take them to see them.
Caregivers are the bridge between their loved one and the medical world. Sometimes they’re ignored. Other times, they take over too much. It seems like you can’t get it right. No matter what you do, it’s too much or not enough.
Some physicians know about social convention abilities and understand it’s a normal human response to stimulus. But many doctors don’t know about this. Don’t think your doctor is well-informed about the nuances of Alzheimer’s. Unless they’re a specialist in this field, they probably don’t.
People can cover up how bad a situation is—and we’re all too willing to believe it because we need things to stay the same. We need our loved ones to be okay—but sometimes, they’re not.
Tags: Alzheimers, caregiver, Caregiver Stress, caregiving, Carol D. O'Dell, doctors, mental health, Mothering Mother, neurologists, Open to Hope Foundation, sundowning
By [http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Joseph_Casciani]Joseph Casciani
As the population of the U.S. ages, we are facing a shortage of trained caregivers to keep up with the demand on the health care system. Problems like dementia and Alzheimer’s diease, and chronic medical conditions like diabetes that have co-existing depression, will require an understanding of effective behavioral approaches and the unique needs of the patient. This array of problems will also require training on how to recognize the underlying motivations, resistances, behaviors, and emotional conditions of these individuals, especially for family members who are facing an increasing burden of care.
Caregiving approaches should be individualized to the unique needs of the patient, focus on listening more than advising, and collaboration more than the usual “quick fix” from medications. These approaches will be more effective in the long run and more respectful of the person we are helping.
1. Individualized care means two-way communication
Patients must have an opportunity to ask questions, to voice their annxieties and fears about what can be expected in their future, and to have a say in what goals should be set in their care. One-way communication from the caregiver to the care recipient is a characteristic of an outdated health care model, and leaves much to be desired when it comes to engaging the patient in successful behavior change. Successful behavior change and compliance with the treatment plan comes after the care recipient has enough information to make informed decisions, and becomes part of the goal setting. When we overlook or minimize the patient’s involvement in his or her own care, and don’t take the time to really hear what the patient wants, compliance is likely to be superficial and temporary.
2. Individualized care means understanding the diversity of our patients
Cultural competence requires us to work with individuals from diverse cultures and with perspectives different from our own. How do factors like age, gender, socioeconomic status, education, place of birth, and length of residency in the US affect our views about our patients? How do we avoid stereotypes and biases that undermine our caregiving efforts? How well do we tolerate differentness in values, morals, lifestyle, and religious beliefs? Acknowledging this diversity allows us to understand the whole person before us, and better understand what factors will work in favor of or work against compliance with the treatment plan. This deeper understanding of our patients takes more time, but will prove to be more cost effective in the long run.
3. Individualized care means integrating bio-psychosocial-spiritual dimensions when planning care and setting treatment goals
Integrated care requires a familiarity with other caregivers’ roles, a respect for differences in processes and beliefs among team members, sharing information, goals and development of a treatment plan, and implementing the plan in a collaborative manner. The more give and take there is among the various disciplines, the more the care is individually tailored to the patient.
Conclusion
It is essential to incorporate individualized caregiving approaches in our health care delivery with the older adult patient for two reasons. First, the geriatric workforce is in short supply and cannot keep up with the rapidly growing demand of patients in need. And, lasting behavior change and compliance with treatment plans will come only from engaging the patient in his or her own care and understanding how the patient’s motivations, attitudes, and outlook impact the response to care.
Joseph M. Casciani, PhD, is a geropsychologist who has devoted his professional career to older adults and their caregivers. His company, [http://www.cohealth.org]Concept Healthcare, [http://www.cohealth.org]http://www.cohealth.org, offers educational modules to integrate behavioral health approaches in the health care of older adults.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Joseph_Casciani http://EzineArticles.com/?Demand-For-Care-Outpacing-Supply-of-Caregivers&id=1398455
I’m Carol D. O’Dell, and I hope you’ll check out my book, Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir, available on Amazon
I Think I’m Depressed–
Have you had this thought but couldn’t say it out loud?
Caregiver depression doesn’t always look like depression.
That means it can go undiagnosed for a very long time.
Caregivers can’t (or don’t) stop. They don’t lock themselves in darkened bedrooms for days on end. They don’t necessarily cry or stop eating. They keep on caring for their loved ones. They suffer in silence.
So, what does caregiver depression look like? It can be tricky. It doesn’t manifest itself in the same way other people display depression.
What caregiver has the time to fall apart?
Conservative stats put caregiver depression 20%. That’s very conservative. I’d say it’s closer to 50%. It comes with the job. We’re dealing with disease, pain, and the end-of-life.
Depression doesn’t have to consume you, but I doubt there is one caregiver out there who isn’t touched by it.
Am I Depressed? Ask Yourself These Questions:
When is the last time you got your hair cut?
Have you gained more than ten or fifteen pounds this year?
Have you stopped calling friends? Do you think they’re sick of hearing you complain and what else do you have to talk about anyway?
Do you feel like all your energy has been drained out your big toe? Seriously, do your legs feel like they’re in cement?
Or…are you so antsy and anxious you can’t sit down? Are you afraid that if you start crying you’ll never stop? Do you feel like you could just crawl out of your skin?
Do you do nothing other than care give?
Fill in the blank: I used to ___________, but I just don’t want to, have the energy, or care about things like that any more.
Have you stopped decorating for the holidays or celebrating birthdays or other special days? Why bother, it’s just more work for me–attitude?
Do you find yourself zoning out–all the time? Can you not think anything through?
Do you get on crying jags and just can’t stop?
Are you stuck in negative thoughts, berating yourself mentally–for hours on end?
Are you waking yourself up with copious amounts of caffeine–or pills–and then forcing yourself to sleep with even more pills?
Do you feel (and look) 15 years or more older than you really are?
Do you feel hopeless? Do you feel you have zero options in your life–you can’t stop caregiving even if you wanted to?
Do you not even want to think about life after caregiving–because you don’t even know what you’d do with yourself?
Is sex a ridiculous concept and even the thought of it takes way too much energy?
Do you flip channels endlessly but never rent a movie or read a book all the way through?
Would a work colleague or old friend even recognize you now?
Are you an insomniac–after years of caregiving, sundowning, and middle-of-the night emergencies, do you find your sleep patterns all out of whack?
Have you ever thought about taking yourself–and your loved one “out of this world?”
***
If you don’t answer “yes” to at least a few of these questions, I’d be surprised.
Caregiving is hard on the body, spirit, and relationships. These signs of stress and depression are common–for anyone, but especially for caregivers. But it’s the severity in which you experience these symptoms. Every day, all day long, the vortex of negative thoughts never ending…
Men are vulnerable in different ways.
They don’t always have the friends and support system that would allow them to let off steam.
They relied on their wives and family members to talk to, feel close to, and if their wife is the person who needs their care, is no longer their companion in the sense the person they communicate with the most–then these men are truly isolated. They may drink too much, flip channels, pull in to the point to where no one knows how bad it is.
Some men take it too far–if their loved one is dying (or they perceive they are), or in sever pain, they might come to the conclusion that it would be best if they both “leave this world” at the same time.
The statistics for elder murder-suicide are startling.
Florida has the highest incident, and one all too common situation is that of the husband whose wife has Alzheimer’s, and he can’t continue to care for her. There’s usually a gun involved.
This is a tragedy–for families and for society. We have to find a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. There are options.
How do you know if the stress and depression has gone too far?
You probably know in your gut. You know how much you’re fooling others. You know how much weight you’ve gained or lost, how little sleep you’re getting, the last time you talked to anyone outside the house. You know how many times you’ve reached for that bottle.
Are drugs the only answer?
In today’s pharmaceutical world, the first thing a doctor is going to recommend is an anti-depressant.
But know that anti-depressants come with some risk.
These are helpful, and when needed, a god-send. But it won’t address the root of the problem.
You need friends, a community, a network. Caregiver supports groups can be a life-line.
You may need a professional to talk to–someone who will listen and ask questions, who will help you make a plan. This may be in conjunction with medications.
If anti-depressants are a good choice for you and your situation, then take them properly and give them time to work. Also, think of this as a part of your health plan, and keep in mind that you will eventually want to wean yourself off these power medications.
Lots of Ideas to Help Ease Depression:
-
Get the junk food out of the house–sugar highs and lows can really whack you out
-
Get the guns out of the house! Why risk it? Sell the thing, donate it to the local police.
-
If you’re having a problem with alcohol, get rid of it. You can live without it if it’s proving to be a detriment.
-
Join a caregiver support group. Get into a healthy one–a place where people can share openly, but also a place that is positive
-
Get out of the house just for you! Plan one outing this month–go to the zoo, call an old friend, make a hair appointment. Start small.
-
Journal, meditate, stretch–give outlet to those thoughts
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Walk. Nothing is more healing and takes less time and equipment for phenomenal results. Start with a 15, 20 minute walk. Do it religiously. Don’t wait until you feel like it. Do it like you’re taking a pill. Force yourself if you have to. Don’t worry about walking fast at first, or dressing right, just get out the front door and shuffle down the street. You can leave your loved one locked in the house for 15 minutes. If you can’t, ask a neighbor to come watch TV in your house for that long.
-
Wean off the sleeping aids. This may take awhile. Go slow, take less, but at least monitor that you’re not increasing the dosage.
-
Get angry! Depression is oftentimes anger imploded. Go outside and throw some old glasses against the side of your house. See if it feels good. Go out to your car, shut the doors, roll up the windows and scream your head off.
-
Go to the doctor and get a prescription if you really need it–then take it–get rechecked and make sure you’re taking something that’s working for you. It may take you a couple of months to hit upon the right dosage/medication.
-
If you’re having dangerous thoughts, tell someone. People will understand. You will find compassion.
-
Watch out for physical signs. We can so ignore our health needs that we have a real physical condition we’ve ignored. You might not be depressed–you might be sick! The good news is, you can get well–so check with your doctor and at least get that over-due physical.
Important to Consider:
It’s okay if you can’t be a full-time caregiver any more.
Quit. Place your loved one in a care facility. God will not hate you, and if your loved ones hate you, then tell them to come do some non-stop, full-time caregiving!
Sometimes we just hit a brick wall. Cry, and then let go. It’s okay.
As dark and scary as depression can be, it’s our heart’s and body’s way of asking us to deal with something.
Depression can be an ironic gift that leads you to a better life.
~Carol O’Dell
Family Advisor at Caring.com
If you’re a caregiver/son, daughter, please read this post.
You need to put yourself in their shoes.
But I don’t want to live with my adult children!
Me neither.
(And I wrote the book, Mothering Mother–and my mom lived with me the last (almost) three years of her life!) That’s my point–my mother lived on her own–with Parkinson’s and early dementia until she was 89 years old!
We’ll all be in this predicament one day–if we live that long–so we need to be empathetic.
My kids are grown, responsible, and we all love each other–and I still don’t relish the thought of permanently living with them! I am a big proponent of family caregiving–but do it when the time is right.
No one wants to give up their independence.
We like things our way, our household “rules,” TV shows, and favorite laundry detergent. Seemingly insignificant choices give us a sense of autonomy and joy to every day life.
We also don’t want to be a burden. I hear this a lot. I feel it on a personal level, but know that when it’s necessary–cancer, end of life, when it’s really needed, then it’s not a burden. It’s a priveledge–
Ad you still have much to give.
Encouragement, humor, appreciation, family togetherness is a rare and precious gift and should not be under-ppreciated.
I feel priveledged to have children. And I know if/when I have to, we would all do our best to make it work. I’m grateful I have the option if I needed it.
There are many people who do not have children. Or their children are not able or willing to help.
No time for a pity party. Get busy! Use this as a catalyst to get busy doing just that–planning your life–for quality and purpose.
If you don’t want to live in a care facility (prematurely, and hopefully never) or with someone else–family member or not, then I (and you) better have a plan.
Note: Decide today to be okay how your life turns out–either way. Who knows what will happen?
Have you heard of the aging in place movement?
This July AARP released a new report citing that 87% of people with disabilities age 50 and older want to receive long-term care (LTC) services in their own homes.
The National Aging in Place Organization is about collaboration and education to live at home as long as possible.
Aging in Place includes building/altering your home so that you can stay there safely as long as possible.
It might also include a ramp, ample doorways and bathrooms for wheelchair accommodation, safe flooring, and even a space for live-in care. It’s up to each individual to make these arrangements to suit (by anticipating) their needs. This term is also loosely used to help individuals begin to plan for their future in terms of how and where they want to live as life progresses.
Aging in place might even include moving so that you are living in an area where retirement and aging is not only enjoyable, but that you also have ample resources within your community for the care you might need.
Or…it might include living close enough to your adult children so that they can easily check on you and manage your care without having to live with you. ( I know of three families in our neighborhood whose mothers/parents also live in another house in the neighborhood).
Recently, after Tropical Storm Faye, I saw one of the son-in-laws picking up debris out of his mother-in-law’s yard. At least he didn’t have to drive an hour or two to do this little chore–or worry about someone charging her an exorbitant price for a job that took less than an hour.
How to Arrange Your Life So That You Can Live at Home Longer:
(consider one or more of the following suggestions)
- Move your bedroom on the first/main floor
- Do a computer search or call your council on aging and get a list of all your community’s resources now. Don’t wait until you need help to start this process.
- Consider redoing your main bath to accommodate a wheelchair/walker–and make your shower easy to get in and out of
- If your spouse has passed away, consider a roommate. Finish a garage or basement if you’d like it to be more private and separate. This $10-20,000 investment (if it’s done well) could give you added years at home–you could even trade rent for care.
- Be sure that if you choose to do this that you both sign a contract for renting, you get driver’s license info, run a background check and never ever give them access or personal/financial information.
- Even though there are risks involved, having someone live with you or on your property can provide a certain sense of security, companionship, and allow you to stay home much longer than living alone.
- Consider an alarm system if you feel you live in an area where you’re vulnerable to break-ins. Check with your local police to see if this is a common occurance. Elders can be targets for easy crimes.
- Don’t blab to every cable and lawn guy that you live alone. Always act like your son/nephew is in the house, coming home, on the phone. Even if you don’t have one–never let others think you’re always alone. Don’t be an easy target!
- Consider “the button,” a moniteringdeviceyou wear in case you fall. There are systems that will call and check on you morning and night (of course, you pay extra for this), but it might give you and those who love you a peace of mind to know that you can call for help at any time.
- Wear the thing! My mom was terrible about leaving it on a piece of clothing she wasn’t wearing, forgetting where it was–and caregivers, family members–if your loved one has memory loss, this may not help them. They won’t necessarily remember they have “the button” on, or even what it’s for!
- Get rid of clutter now! Clutter can cause you to fall and gets to be a real hassle for those caring for you. Don’t leave this to your family to do later–give those sentimental items to your family members now so that you can see the joy on their face when they use their grandmother’s dishes or wear a family heirloom piece of jewelry
- Gather all your important documents–insurance info, cards, prescriptions, life insurance, house insurance and living will. Place these items in a portable box and let your loved ones know where it is–for easy access.
- Do that living will now–don’t make your loved ones have to guess or fight over whether you’d want to be put on a ventilator or not. Be clear. Make several copies and give them to all the important peopel–one for you, your main doctor, the hospital you’re likely to go to, and one or two loved ones/guardians who would get to you quickly in times of emergency.
- Get a recliner chair that can lift you out easily (consider this your next purchase when the current chair needs to be replaced)
- Eventually consider a bed that is motorized–this added expense really helps if you have back problems and can sometimes be covered on insurance
- Place tread on any slick floors inside or outside your house to avoid slipping
- Remove any throw rugs that might trip you–(you may need to do this later or if you tend to shuffle)
- Begin to think about your options if/when you can no longer drive–is there a senior van in your area? Friends/neighbors who you can ride with or will pick up a few items for you? Even consider a taxi–most areas have taxis (even if you’ve never used one in your area before, they’re probably there). Don’t sit at home and waste away–even if your eyes or your coordination begin to wane, you can still get out and enjoy life.
- Continue to be a part of your local church/temple. Make friends–you need them, and they need you! Churches and community organizations are there to help. Let them. Helping others make us feel good–don’t be so stubborn and independent that you don’t allow someone else to give and feel good. If someone is willing to pick you up to take you to Sunday School or choir practice–let them~ You still get to go to an activity (which is good for you), and they feel like they’ve helped someone. Win-win.
- Get to know your neighbors. You can all keep an eye on each other. Be nice to the kids in your neighborhood–they can rake your leaves or bring you the mail. Most children and even teens long for a grandparent and don’t get to see theirs enough. Wave! Smile, get to know their moms and dads so they trust you. Bake a cake and take it to them. Cultivate relationships. Old-fashioned neighborliness and friendship never grows old and is never out of style.
- Choose where you want to pass away. Hospice offers you the choice to spend your last few months/weeks/days at home and can offer palliative care (pain management). Most people choose to be in their own home and to surrounded by those they love.
- Hospice means that you have a life-limiting condition with a diagnosis or a year or less to live. Don’t wait until the last minute–ask for hospice. Anyone can refer you to hospice (including yourself or your physician). Also know that many cities have more than one hospice with varying levels of care and options. Check them out to see what’s available to you.
Bottom line:
Plan now. If you’re over 50, then you better start planning. Having a 401K isn’t enough. It doesn’t take care of the details and quality of life–and money won’t fix everything.
Adapt your house to suit your aging needs.
If it’s not too late, and you need to, move closer to family so that it’s not hard for them to drop by and check on you.
And…or…live in a community that is “elder friendly,” with lots of resources.
Stay involved with people. Accept their help. Give back any way you can. A smile, a hug, homemade cookies will get you lots of friends. Neighbors are important. Do more than wave. You might need them one day.
Stay/get involved in church and other community activities. The more plugged in you are, the more people you have in your life, the more your mind/body stays active. Staying active will keep you at home.
No longer driving is not the end of the world. Figure out how to make it work–taxi, community van, church members/neighbors.
Consider a roommate or a family member living arrangement. Just be safe, sign a contract, and do a background check. ( I know of several nieces/nephews who are young and starting out in life by sharing a house with an aunt or grandmother).
Get help when you need it–hiring day-time care is cheaper than a care facility. There are many great companies such as Comfort Keepers who are licensed, bonded, flexible and reasonable–usually less than $20.00 an hour.
Keep a positive outlook on life!
Smile, see the good, and find ways to give and receive love.
Carol D. O’Dell, and I’m a family advisor on Caring.com.
Check out my book, Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir, available on Amazon, other online stores and in bookstores. Kunati Publishing
My syndicated blog appears on www.opentohope/caregivers.com
Tags: adult children, aging, aging in place, Amazon, caregiver, caregiving, Caring.com, Carol D. O'Dell, community resources, elder care, family advisor, living at home, Mothering Mother, Open to Hope Foundation, parents, safety
If you’re a family caregiver, you can feel like you’re under house arrest for a crime you didn’t commit.
It’s not that you don’t want to care for your loved one, it’s just that you didn’t realize it would wind up feeling like that’s all you do.
If you’re not careful, resentments can mushroom.
This season of caregiving–when you can no longer leave your loved one “home alone” can be a difficult adjustment for a caregiver–especially if you didn’t realize it was coming. Maybe you thought you had more time to prepare.
For some, their loved one has dementia/Alzheimer’s and leaving them alone is dangerous. They could try to leave the house–or could hurt themselves. Hiring a CNA or other care provider has its challenges. There are other issues of trusting your loved one’s care and your home to person you don’t know. But don’t give up. There’s great assistance and resources out there. Be persistent.
There are many caregiving traps–maybe you watch too much TV, eat too much ice cream, or depend a little too much on sleep meds.
Do you feel as you’re falling into depression and can’t stop yourself?
You’re not alone. Caregiver related depression is all too common.
But you have to fight. You have to get help and get out once in a while.
Why? (You ask facetiously).
Because your life MUST go on. Because you need to get out, be involved in your community, make and keep friendships, make plans for your life and future, cultivate hope.
You need a plan.
Ask yourself, what do you miss most?
Is it simple things like going to the library? A walk in the park? Lunch with friends? Church or temple?
Pick one thing and figure out a way to make it happen.
Who do you trust to stay with your loved one a few hours?
Is there a neighbor or relative–or former care provider who could give you a short break?
Or–contact a reputable agency in your area. Consider a place such as Comfort Keepers who are licensed and bonded. Explain your loved one’s medical condition and personality.
As cantankerous as your loved one might be, and as much as they might fight having a new person care for them, don’t let them pitch a fit and manipulate you.
I have seen the most difficult person be won over by just the right care person.
Trust me, my mother wanted no one but me. She did all kinds of antics to keep me at home–from crying, pleading to drinking deodorant–not kidding (it didn’t hurt her).
My most dearest caregiver wasn’t someone I’d think my mother would take to–but her genuine warmth, sense of humor and professionalism won us all over–big time!
So don’t be surprised if your loved one likes this new person!
Start with one outing a month. No excuses.
This isn’t grocery shopping or picking up meds at the pharmacy. This time is for you. And when you walk out the door–leave it all behind. Trust that you’ve made a good choice and that your loved one will be fine. Don’t be over critical. Make sure the important things like meds are taken care of–but don’t get all fussy if they eat the last of your ice cream. What’s important is that your loved one was safe!
Even “happy” is optional. Realize you might not be able to make them happy–especially if they don’t chose to be. It’s time to think a little about your own happiness. That’s okay, it’s even more than okay.
Your loved one needs a break from you, too.
You’re not always a picnic, ya know. They need a different face, voice, and mannerism. It can be refreshing. Don’t be surprised if you feel a twinge of jealousy. Take it as a complement though–you picked a good person.
For all the hours and days (and weeks) when you can’t leave the house:
Change your stinkin’ thinkin’!
What if you considered being home a gift? Look around. Most of us have unread books, unfinished art projects, unpainted rooms, weeds to pick, recipes to try–is it so bad to be at home? Not if adjust your attitude.
If you have to be there, then really be there.
Be in the moment. Make your home a sacred, relaxing, inviting place to be. Start with one corner and make that corner special–a table, a photo, a flower. Spread out from there. A can of paint doesn’t cost that much–rearranging the furniture doesn’t cost anything at all.
Got a computer? (I assume you do if you’re reading this)
Then the world is at your fingertips. Visit a forum, look up your ancestory, download itunes and get some new music–write pen pal from around the world. The possibilities are endless.
Caregiving isn’t meant to be a trap. When done right, caregiving has many hidden benefits–and surprises.
~Carol D. O’Dell
Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
available on Amazon and in most bookstores
Family Advisor at Caring.com
