Category Archives: Memories

September 17, 2012 · 7:59 pm

Mom “picked a good husband”

Mom was talking to her sister-in-law yesterday, one of the last living relatives that she still keeps in contact with. My aunt Helen is her lifeline to all of the family gossip back in Newport, TN where my mom is from.

Aunt Helen told her something her son Gary had said about my Dad long ago: “He is such a nice guy. Jane sure knows how to pick husbands.”

Mom beamed when she told me. And while Mom and Dad’s marriage wasn’t exactly storybook material, it was a solid, sweet and supportive union until the very end.

So yes, Mom chose well when she finally decided to get married. Dad didn’t fare too poorly either.

Perhaps I’m the luckiest of all, being the only child of their union.

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September 16, 2012 · 8:00 pm

Dad’s nursing home experience a mystery

Dad spent about 10 months at the nursing home before he became ill and landed in the hospital, then was transferred to a skilled nursing facility where he died.

Mom spent just over six weeks at a nursing home. She still talks about the place like it’s a second home. She knew all of the workers and residents on her wing by name. She even talks on the phone with her former roommate from there.

Thanks to Mom, I knew every detail about the nursing home operations and was kept updated on all of the nursing home gossip.

Dad and I at the assisted living facility, March 2011.

It just struck me recently how little I knew about Dad’s experiences at the nursing home. Almost all of the information gleaned from his stay was from third-party sources: nurses, aides and my mom. By the time Dad entered the nursing home, he wasn’t communicating that much. What we did learn from Dad directly was that he had a falling out with his roommate. (Mom also had a falling out with her second roommate; nursing homes are not much different than high school when it comes to petty squabbles!)

On one of my visits to Dad’s nursing home, he told me which residents couldn’t be trusted. Unlike Mom, who was a social butterfly at her nursing home, Dad seemed to be a loner who didn’t interact with fellow residents. Without the dementia, I’m not sure how Dad would have reacted to having to stay in a nursing home. I think he would have been okay as long as he could have his smoking breaks!

It’s interesting to see my parents go through somewhat similar experiences (emergency surgery, long hospital stay, nursing home) but react in such different ways. I just wonder what stories I will never know about Dad’s stay at the nursing home.

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September 15, 2012 · 8:41 pm

What would your parent do?

Mom is going for tests over the next couple of weeks that will let us know if her cancer has spread. We’ve been talking a lot about the pros and cons of chemo. Mom is an optimist and a fighter, but she also wants a decent quality of life. Still, I think she will probably at least try chemo to see if she could tolerate it.

That made me think about Dad, and what he would do if he were the one in my mom’s shoes. As I’ve written before, Dad avoided doctor’s visits like the plague. But he did pull through his emergency gallstone surgery and dodged death a few times over the last year of his life.

I can’t imagine Dad living with a colostomy bag. He did have urinary issues at one point which required a catheter being inserted and Dad wearing a urine collection bag attached to his leg. I think he had to wear it 1-2 months. Mom did all of the draining duties. Dad wasn’t the best patient, but he grumbled his way through the ordeal.

Mom is grinning and bearing it with her colostomy bag. She manages to crack jokes about it while we are dealing with it, but she’s also admitted it’s depressing to know she may have to deal with this for the rest of her life.

But Dad? I guess if Mom was here to take care of his colostomy bag, he would grumble his way through it. But chemo? Forget about it. I think Dad would have holed himself up in his bedroom with a pile of library books and refused to even meet with an oncologist.

It’s interesting when the two people who brought you into this world have such opposite personalities and perspectives on life. It also makes me wonder how I would react if faced with a similar situation.

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September 14, 2012 · 9:26 pm

Disease a hitchhiker

I’ve been following Kathleen Cohn on the Cowbird storytelling community as she writes about her husband’s cancer journey. I started following her stories before my mom was diagnosed with cancer, but now it hits even closer to home. Her writing is eloquent, honest, heartbreaking and hopeful.

The way their doctor described her husband’s rare cancer really struck me, and seems to apply to other diseases as well:

“Along the way we picked up a hitchhiker but managed to lock him in the trunk.The goal was to keep him in the trunk. Sometimes he may get out of the trunk, and into the backseat, but we needed to keep on top of it so that he didn’t get in the front seat and grab the steering wheel.”

Certainly that can apply to cancer but also to Alzheimer’s disease. Dad had his good days and his bad days as he tried to keep control of that steering wheel controlling his life. But eventually, that dementia demon escaped the trunk, crawled over the back seat and took control of my dad’s life.

Mom doesn’t drive, but she is the world’s worst backseat driver, so I wonder how she will fare against her hitchhiker.

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September 13, 2012 · 7:53 pm

Little things taken for granted

It’s easy to overlook personal mobility when it comes to growing older. Dad was able to ambulate up until the last few months of his life, and while this worried me (as he did suffer multiple falls that sent him to the ER), it also was a comfort that he wasn’t bedridden. Dad loved to walk and even if his last year was spent shuffling up and down the drab nursing home hallway, at least he wasn’t staring at a ceiling that whole time.

I went for a brief, 10-minute walk today to pick up some things from the local convenience store. The short trip is actually quite scenic, as half the way there is a walking path that borders a golf course. I have walked this same path with my parents multiple times before, but now I walk it alone. Dad is gone, and Mom is not strong enough yet for that long of a walk. She lamented that fact today, as she was so used to being independent, as Dad was before he became ill.

Most of us take our ability to walk for granted. The ability to go outside on your own, breathe fresh air and stretch your legs seems so trivial, but for my mom right now, it is not an option without someone by her side.

I don’t like to think how I will be when I get older/become sick. I have such a fierce independent streak. I’m also not a people person. At least Mom thrives on the social interactions of those who assist with her care now. All of her caregivers, from home health aides to doctors just love having Mom as a patient, because she is so easy to deal with.

I apologize in advance for the type of patient I will probably be. 🙂

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September 12, 2012 · 8:19 pm

The surprise at being called a caregiver

When Mom took care of Dad at home those first few years he had dementia, I don’t think Mom considered herself a caregiver. She was simply being the dutiful, loyal wife, taking care of her husband of almost 40 years. It was automatic, no title necessary.

I feel the same way now. I’m just a daughter taking care of her mother in need. I guess since I quit my job to take care of Mom, if someone asked me what I do for a living, I might say “family caregiver” since I’m living off of Mom for now. 🙂

So today it was odd when I received a discount for being a caregiver. It’s nice to know that caregivers are recognized in this local community (even if was just a dollar or two of savings.)

So yeah, I guess I am a caregiver. It still sounds odd, but I guess I will grow into the title.

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September 11, 2012 · 9:06 pm

Dad the foam sipper

Mom was telling me today that even after Dad’s dementia had progressed, Dad would still request a beer at night as had been his nightly habit since he was an adult. (Well, back in the day, after putting in a long day at the trucking company, it would be a few beers.)

Old habits die hard, but dementia can alter old habits just the same.

Mom said Dad would just sip the foamy head off the beer and then forget about the rest of it.

He would wear a moustache of beer foam, like a confused clown, until Mom would help him wipe it off.

Poor Dad, robbed of even the smallest of pleasures.

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September 10, 2012 · 9:51 pm

Tests and more tests

Dad refused to have most of the medical tests that were ordered for him before his dementia set in. I remember begging him to go have the prostate exam done, as he showed multiple symptoms and at the time I thought for sure he had prostate cancer.

I sent cards, I begged him on the phone, all to no avail.

Of course, my diagnosis turned out to be wrong. Cancer would not kill my dad, despite his almost lifelong smoking habit.

The last test I ever saw performed on him was the swallow test at the hospital in Albuquerque. It was about a month before his death. He failed the test miserably. Then came the dreaded feeding tube question. We declined. He was hand fed instead, but I don’t think he actually ate much that last month of his life.

Now Mom is the one that faces test after test after test, to keep track of her cancer. It is daunting, keeping all of the doctor’s appointments straight. There are people out there, too many poor souls no doubt, that have to manage all of this on their own. No one should have to do that, while trying to recover from surgery and get stronger.

The trepidation behind the tests are two-fold. Not only is there fear and anxiety of taking so many tests, but there is the fear of the results of the tests.

All a caregiver can do is to try to be a supportive secretary, by setting the appointments, helping to navigate the logistics and offering moral support.

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September 9, 2012 · 7:27 pm

Losing confidence as you grow older

One of the earlier signs of dementia is when a person loses the ability to do tasks that were very simple for them before. For Dad, this included things like ordering at a fast food restaurant or making correct change at the grocery store. He would accuse the clerks of trying to rip him off, when handing them a $10 bill for something that cost $15.

Mom doesn’t have dementia (that we know of) but she has been through a major surgery and has had anesthesia for three different procedures. She’s also been away from the routine of her life for two months. Today she wanted to order Pizza Hut and have it delivered to the home, something she had done dozens of times over the last few years. Today she waffled, almost wanting to give up at the thought of the task. I gently pushed her and she ended up doing just fine placing her order, even remembering a tip. 🙂

She also was not happy with the cordless phone I bought. (Her old phone was dead.) I thought it would be safer for her, so she wouldn’t try to move too fast to answer the phone and fall. But instead she thought it was too high-tech. We compromised. I ordered her one of those old-fashioned desk phones for her bedroom and we will place the cordless phone in the kitchen, so if she’s in there and the phone rings, she can answer it easily without having to run through the house.

Of course, you don’t necessarily have to be older to have these moments of uncertainty. I’ve also been away from the routine of my life for two months now, and have nightmares about forgetting the code to my home’s security system!

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September 8, 2012 · 9:35 pm

When parents wear diapers

As I said previously, I’m getting a taste of what Mom went through with Dad. I’m not sure what’s more difficult to bear: when a child has to care for a parent or when a spouse has to care for a spouse (with dementia).

Now Mom asks me whether her diaper needs to be changed. We grow as close as the mother-daughter relationship can when dealing with the colostomy bag.
When you’ve dealt with that, well, you’ve earned your dutiful daughter sticker. 🙂

So far I’m hanging in there, though I do worry the stress of today will catch up with me tomorrow or next week or next month. But if my mom’s cancer or my dad’s Alzheimer’s has taught me anything, it’s to be here today.

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