Mom & Me Five Archive

...companionating and caregiving for Ancient Ones is a transcendent activity. Even a part time measure of caregiving activity, especially for a relative, causes you, often in the face of personal opposition, to:

1. Lose yourself, and;
2. Hear and consider the questions your soul asks.

    You'd think, wouldn't you, that being a parent, an ordinary parent, would automatically confer the experience of transcendence, but from simple observation I can tell you (and, I'm sure, you can tell me), for some reason it doesn't; it offers the experience but, judging from how many adult children have trouble conceiving of taking care of their aged parents, it allows easy right of refusal. It's easy to be a perfectly capable, untranscendent parent, maybe because the path of childhood is to differentiate oneself, while the path of The Ancient Ones seems to occur when a pinnacle of differentiation has been reached and, hmmm...., what would be the word..."something else" will do, I guess, happens; the conflict is no longer over differentiation, the caregiver is no longer pushing the cared for away, but pulling the cared for in...or, actually, being pulled in by the care recipient, which is another type of conflict...a conflict with what constitutes identity and how solid is it. Some of us fight it, or, anyway, as in my case, parts of it. But, when you can no longer fight it, when you are thoroughly mesmerized by caring for your Ancient One, you are forced to transcend yourself. You may not like the experience, at first...you may scream to your god that you did not ask for this, you never wanted to learn to be this good...you may even flee the responsibilities but, once confronted with the choice of caring or not caring for an Ancient One, if you spend any amount of time giving companionship and care to that Ancient One you will not ever be the same in a particular way.
    As caregivers, though, despite all the sappy stuff out there, we are embarrassed to admit that even we can see a difference in how we relate to others once we've transcended, hmmm...whatever it is we transcend. I'm not actually THERE, yet, but I know where I'm headed, now. We may modestly confess to an ability to see further into others, and the world in general, but we would never confirm that we came to be this way because the challenge of Ancient Care and Companionship took us, sometimes kicking and screaming, into its transformative den.
    The issue of the transcendent and transformative nature of this kind of caregiving comes under scrutiny when individual caregivers get to the point of feeling they've been blessed by this duty, in ways that only this type of duty confers. From what I'm hearing in this book Dementia Caregivers Share Their Stories, this continues once caregiving has ended. It changes you. Period. It never changes you definitively for better or worse; it just changes you and you usually become grateful for the change, even if it was an arduous journey. Most others are grateful for the change in you, too, if they think about it.
    Although some of you may disagree with me, I'm beginning to consider that, if we can do nothing else, we can acknowledge the mystical within The Path of Those Who Care for Ancient Ones. When someone within our intimate community shows the inclination to set down this path, at the very least we can hold an initiation and express awe and wonder at the possibilities of insight this person will automatically receive. We can celebrate without knowing. When the person emerges from that path to rejoin ours, we can celebrate their return and encourage them to tell us what they know...allowing us to consider that, maybe, we, too, might have the stamina for what amounts to Advanced Loving.
    Ancient Caregiving is, after all, a visionary experience like no other. The caregiver is constantly confronting visions, unbidden, of what exists for one's loved one and what one wishes to exist...and for oneself, as well. For some reason, although parenting seems to draw parents away from sub-conscious visions, caregiving to Ancient Ones does the opposite. We are forced to observe, and tend to, life at its end. All ignored metaphors appear, our care recipients', ours. We begin to see the stage we're in (and on) more clearly...others' stages, as well. Whether or not we want to, we exit caregiving wiser. We caregivers need to be willing to acknowledge this, perhaps even put a bit of PR polish on the benefits of caregiving...and we, as a society, need to surround caregiving for Ancient Ones with all the awe, respect and deference we believe we will deserve when we are Ancient. If we do only this, offer only this rite-ful, rightful respect, when one of our relatives decides to take The Journey of the Ancient Caregiver, we will go a long way toward ensuring that someone we love and trust will be readily available to accompany us on our final journey.

...is this: I told MPS that I'd decided that, at the event of the 90th Birthday Dinner for Mom, I was going to insist that Mom sit between two people, neither of whom will be me. "I'll tell you why I'm insisting on this," I continued. "Here's what usually happens during family dinners at restaurants:" Mom and Gail get shunted to a sullen corner of the table. Everyone feels good about Mom being there, but no one interacts with Mom because interacting necessarily and often involves doing this or that discreet action like making sure Mom gets a fair chance to look over the menu; making sure that she knows where her food is when it's delivered; making sure she eats some of it in the midst of distraction; taking conversation a little more slowly, a little more loudly and a little more whimsically. Gail the Caregiver is there to notice and tend to all the little things, thus, in a sense, becomes a barrier between Mom and everyone else at the table...and Gail the Caregiver is so busy being The Caregiver with Mom that she doesn't get a chance to interact successfully with anyone else.
    This time, I told MPS, everyone else is going to be forced to interact with Mom. It is, after all, her birthday. Everyone should be interacting with her.
    MPS said, "Good."
    Later in the evening I told Mom about this. I explained everything to her, including how we get shunted into a corner and everyone seems to forget that they're neglecting an excellent opportunity to visit with Mom and get a sense of her. "You know," I said, rounding off the explanation, "Actually, you and I should sit at opposite corners of the restaurant table AND, every time we go out to eat with family while they're here, we should do this. But, anyway, I want you to know, at the very least, it will be done for your birthday."
    By the time I finished, to my surprise, my mother was grinning and tears were welling at the corners of her eyes. She exclaimed a heartfelt "Why, Gail, thank you!"
    I was astonished. I, frankly, thought that while I was sensitive to this constant family-dinner-out scenario, she hadn't been. Not only had she, it was with great relief that she greeted the news that, earlier today, I had seen to it that this scenario would be stopped.
    Funny what you find out when you just talk.

...my mother's urine on me, even though I know I have none one me. It started before she awoke this morning, while I was running errands. After her bath I took yet another shower and changed clothes. She's been down for a couple of hours; I've looked in on her but haven't approached further than a few feet, and yet, just a minute ago, I got a whiff of her as I turned.
    I wonder if it is related, somehow, either as an effect or a cause, to the following conversation I had with one of my sisters today about Mom's upcoming party period. She confirmed her intention to be there, with MPNC, MPNP also intending to come, on Saturday. She talked about everyone's care at making sure they don't get in my hair. I thanked her and went on to clarify for her that I don't mind all the company we can fit into the days...Mom's will be thrilled with it. I just have four rules:

1. Motels for everyone at night;
2. Don't use my household appliances (I've had problems with resettings after company leaves);
3. Don't attempt to manage my (yes, I said "my") home;
4. You adapt, we don't.

    MPS seemed relieved to hear my very distinct, very succinct requests. I swear, I should have voiced them quickly and with authority years ago, but, years ago I honestly hadn't given it enough thought to know what I need from company. Anyway, it's clear and easy, now. I hear Mom's reconnaissance cough. I also mentioned something else, on which I'll report...
    ...later.

    So far, two of my three sisters-and-partial-families (one brother-in-law; one nephew) are slated to be here to celebrate Mom's 90th birthday, which will be August 2nd. The up-and-coming birthday girl is very excited, even though festivities are more than a month away. Mom will, as well, at least "see" the other brother-in-law, who will be delivering the daughter-with-nephew up here on Mom's birthday, a fitting birthday present, so an impromptu dinner out might be in order on her actual birthday. I haven't heard about the daughter who "belongs" to that brother-in-law, but it seems that plans are loosely coalescing around the possibility of a birthday dinner on the Saturday, August 4th, following Mom's birthday. I know we won't see the local daughter and her kids during the week days; school and work will be in full swing for them (one's a teacher, one's a student). I'm figuring that some or all of them, though, will show up for the Mom's 90th birthday dinner on Saturday. I'm letting plans hang loose and allowing everyone else to make them, cooperate with one another and carry them out. I didn't even galvanize the plans, on purpose, so it's wonderful to see that everyone else is taking notice and acting to serve up a proper 90th birthday fiesta. From the Thursday of her birthday through the following Sunday, various and sundry daughter-relatives will be coming and going, so every day, including her birthday, will probably be a birthday celebration. Excellent! My mother believes that a person should celebrate a birth month...not just a birth day! Why take just one when there's 31 on the plate?!?
    I remember mentioning this to someone, although I can't remember who; I don't think it was here: Earlier this week, I accidentally referred to Mom's birthday as her hundredth when we were whipping up her excitement over the coming celebrations. Her reaction was funny: First she backed off, as if to say, "Honey, if this is 90, I'm not sure I want to see 100!" Then, I saw the glint of an idea in her eyes and she said, "Do you suppose we could get away with that?"
    After all, Hundredth birthday celebrations are surely 10 times better than 90th birthday celebrations. Everyone lives to be 90, now-a-days.
    A reading development that has surprised me...from insisting on reading Mothering Mother, I've jump started myself into the kind of reading I like best, having at least three books going at the same time. Let me take an informal count:

1. Taking notes out of To a Dancing God on expectation and noticing that I want to reread the entire book, so I am, sort of;
2. Reading (not in order) contents of the book Dementia Caregivers Share Their Stories. Mona wrote about the author and some of her impressions at her journal (the link will take you to the specific post) after having read the book. I am not accustomed to reading more than informal (make that, vaguely avocational) caregiver literature, so this is an interesting side path for me. Lots of highlighting and lots of notes in this one, folks. I expect I'll write about it at least as extensively as I wrote about Mothering Mother. Might even write the authors for permission to publish quotes. No telling where that will lead!
3. Mom and I have put aside two other unfinished books and started "Through a Narrow Gate" by Karen Armstrong. We have both been so impressed with her writing and scholarship in regard to religion and spirituality that I looked her books up at random and we chose two autobiographical books, of which this is one, that promise to be fascinating. This first one is about Karen's journey as a nun (she left the convent after 7 years). Both Mom and I have a fascination with nunnery and religious vocations in general. She's seen all the nun movies I've seen. We thought this would be a revealing read. So far, so good.
4. Today I will be picking up a copy of the short story collection containing the story upon which Away from Her was based; Alice Munro's The Bear Came Over the Mountain in the collection Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Love Marriage. Knowing how I am about short stories, I'll probably spend a couple hours reading selected short stories in the book. Besides, I feel in need of some good fiction, lately.

    Today, though, is, again, primarily an errand day. I'll be leaving soon to perform a few before Mom stirs. Then, we've got some stuff to do around the house and yard. Plus, we've got Pan's Labyrinth waiting in queue on the TV table. I know almost nothing about the film, so it'll be interesting for both of us. Oh, which reminds me, in case Karma is "watching" in on this post, we finally watched Volver a couple of months ago. Mom and I both loved the movie. I was astonished when I realized, at the end, that the movie had been about quite horrible events and repercussions, and yet there was such a startling feeling of resolution and peace. Mom became very involved in discussing whether the mother was a ghost or alive. It didn't talk about survival, it actually showed how survival and grace is possible in impossible circumstances. I loved, too, that it was produced to resemble an adult fairy tale. I think this is what hooked my Mom into it. It's production style reminded me of Chocolat.
    Off to see The Wizard...
    ...later.

    The Convair Millenia Advantage evaporative cooler is working again. The fan belt probably didn't need replacing. When I compared the new with the old, well, you could'a fooled me if there was any stretch between the two. I lubed where it said to lube. Finally, I figured, it's got to be a clog in one of the hoses. I looked up the company on the web and found both the schematic and yet another owner's manual, the manual online being the same as the one I have except it's in four more languages than mine. Turns out, though, the schematic shows three hoses, none of which are replaceable parts, nor with a description of which hose leads where. So, I recalled the distributors, Seeley International in Glendale, Arizona. Phone message saying to leave a message. I did. I have never been so glad that I left a message! The tech support was one of two co-owners of the company. She talked me through unclogging the hoses, waiting with me while I dropped one behind the fan casing, which is officially not removable, but I can see that it is, I just wouldn't want to have to do it. I didn't. When we were done, the cooler worked great and she gave me some tips on additional seasonal maintenance, like running a vinegar bath through it before drying and storing it.
    I awoke Mom earlier, today, much earlier, than she's lately been arising. I wanted to make sure, when the return call came, it wasn't interrupted by her arising because, believe me, when she's up, it's time and that's that. She was with me, looking at the cooler through the "irremovable" casing when the call came through. She moved to take her walker into the kitchen and wait for me, but when she understood that Seeley was going to walk me through fixing it, she decided to watch what I was about to do. She sat to my back right and leaned as far forward as possible to get the cleanest view of my machinations without getting my elbow in her nose or glasses. I noticed, a couple of times, her hands subconsciously working as I fiddled through the casing, trying to catch up the wayward hose. She exclaimed when the clogs came through, then examined them. At one point she handed me a large flat head screw driver without me asking when it was obvious I was going to need two implements to get the hose out from behind the casing. It was exactly what I needed.
    Truth is, it shouldn't surprise me that she should take such a keen interest in watching me do things. Aside from the fact that she always has, in a quiet way, seemed to know how to fix things (although she usually takes the sloppy route, since that is the fastest, thus, my father did most of the fixing in our born-into family), she continues to like the mental "feel" of confronting a problem and thinking about it. As well, watching me today is, for her, I imagine, as good or better than any one of her educational channels, the difference being that at the end of watching and helping me, she feels some satisfaction in a task well plied.
    As well, I think I've mentioned this before: When my mother really works her brain, you can tell it in how her body reacts. She breathes more deeply. If she becomes mentally frustrated her breathing becomes faster and shallower. When the task is completed, she sighs as though she's run a marathon training session. Within a half hour after fixing the evaporative cooler, she decided she needed to take a nap.
    Ah. I hear her reconnaissance coughing, now. Time to get her up and think about lunch.
    One more errand, today, involving a short trip and yet another repair job, this time outside. Maybe I can get her interested in that job, too.
    Later.

...before I needed to turn it in. I replaced my name on the hold list. I am now 13th. Popular book. I got it right after the library received it...the first borrower. I like that almost as much as getting an autographed first edition...particularly with reader notes and highlighting.
    So, I may buy the book, but I'm not sure. More likely that I'll buy the other library books which are in service as read-out-loud books, mostly. I tend to read ahead in them.
    I'm catching up on some old business, this morning. Mom was up, again, until 0200 this morning. You could say she had two naps. She "went to bed", outfitted and everything, at 2300, then was back up at 2330, ready for company. We watched something on TV...we thought it was interesting, at the time, and were glad we watched it, but I can't remember, now, what it was!
    I noticed that she was particularly ruddy yesterday. This week would be a good week to do a blood draw, see what's going on. I think she'll end up right in the middle of everything. I hope her hemoglobin is at least holding steady above 10.0 I know it dips...I know the signs, and it's a good idea to have a history for comparison, but I like to have "good" blood draws, now, too, and getting stuck really irritates my mother, anymore. So, as long as nothing seems emergent, I don't push.
    She's having a few more problems with her back than previously, but she isn't moving much, right now, either, so it's no wonder. We treat it as easily and lightly as possible. At least once a week, now, in the morning, I substitute a 350 mg aspirin for her usual 81 mg tablet. It seems to help. A couple of times I've substituted 200 mg ibuprofen, too, for the day's dose of aspirin. Although Mom hates to admit it, that helps even more. When she assents to taking ibuprofen, I know what level of discomfort and pain that translates to.
    I continue to think about issues addressed in Mothering Mother; in particular, speculating about what it might feel like, to my mother and to me, if she's gets caught up in an "active dying phase". I'd much rather she'd just check out. I get sense she feels the same. From what I've read, though, most people die slowly. I swear, I already see death sign posts and I'm figuring we may be as much as a few years away from approaching serious death issues. But, you never know.
    Mom really seems to be enjoying this particular year of her life. Sometimes she's not interested in admitting she will turn 90. But, sometimes, she's interested in sneaking in a few more years. For some reason, I now recall expecting, in the past, that she would be gaunt and frail. She's frail, yes, although she doesn't necessarily look it, but she's also round and hearty looking and mostly peachy. She's just sleeping a lot. Insisting on it, now. I'm not fighting her. I think she'll rev up the closer we get to seeing extended family. She's stoked for that.
    Which reminds me, I should check in with MCS. It's been awhile.
    Later.

...that it's been at least over a month since I have checked in over at Revolution. Their rules say that to retain this free one year membership, members must log into the site and do something, anything, at least once a month. Turns out it's been a few days over three months for me! Yeow! I am, thus, pleased and gratified to report that both mine and my mother's accounts remain available. Although I've come to discover that me having an account doesn't help my mother, much, as I could not "do things" in her name, I have high hopes for accessing some of the services on my mother's behalf through her profile before the end of the year.
    I suppose I could have, occasionally, surveyed support groups and other healthcare blogs over there, but I have trouble considering online support groups a priority. I'm struggling, right now, with getting back to Daily Strength, and that community definitely thrives on through-site contact.
    Last night was another late night for Mom. I enjoy these periods. We are more "up" for serendipity and more likely to produce it. Last night Mom and I admired our half-finished Easter Eggs and speculated about the possibility that we could paint a supply of these things and see if we could sell them.
    She demured that her art work wasn't "good enough" to sell. It actually is interesting, bright and intriguing to look at. She just can't see it because she can't get out of her mind that she didn't have good enough control of the brushes.
    I, on the other hand, think we could sell these as folk art, which they obviously are. We talked about storage, promotion, the specifics (that we know about) regarding setting up a fair booth, etc. Mom's eyes shone. I think she would have loved to have owned and managed a store...any store. She's in her element at garage sales. One of her favorite past times, in years gone by, was going to the border towns along the Mexico-Arizona and Mexico-Texas borders to shop. She is especially attracted to bartering; both sides of the equation. I swear she was a bazaar merchant in a previous life; which is possible. She feels strong ties to ancient Egypt.
    We talked about whether stands would easy to find and provide. The ones I bought my parents came with appropriately efficient little stands. We talked about the likelihood that we will switch to gloss rather than matte paint and learning how to control the appearance of brush strokes.
    It always amazes me how involved Mom can get when a subject narrows and specifies itself. Granted, this is all talk, at the moment. And, as well, I'm dealing with a woman who is in low energy mode. But wouldn't that be cool: A new career for Mom in her 90's despite her dementia and the physical toll of aging!
    Hmmm...well, I think I'll sneak in on Mom and see if she's ready to rouse...it's been just about 11.5 hours since her light went off, last night.
    Later.