Thursday, May 18, 2006
Sometimes, I swear, when I read The Literature on Caregiving...
...I get the feeling that those of us who have chosen not to be involved, for whatever reason, in the caregiving for our elderly and infirm are standing around waiting for those of us who are to fail so we can shake our fingers at the dust biting caregivers and assuage our guilt by saying, "See, toldja, shoulda put'er in a nursing home (or in the hands of professionals here and there) instead of ruining your life over her."
Just a thought.
I'm going to give up reading "The Literature" for awhile, especially the "supportive" stuff. It feels full of threats rather than promises. Rather like The Literature for Housewives before the late 1960's and early 1970's and during The Feminist Backlash.
Just a passing thought.
Later.
Just a thought.
I'm going to give up reading "The Literature" for awhile, especially the "supportive" stuff. It feels full of threats rather than promises. Rather like The Literature for Housewives before the late 1960's and early 1970's and during The Feminist Backlash.
Just a passing thought.
Later.
I'll be back soon...
...I'm in another state...of calm fatigue...
...later...
...later...
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Interesting night last night...
...a precursor, I think, I hope, to what more of our summer nights will be like this year. Mom was in bed, initially, at 0045 this morning. I stayed up. I love late summer nights. There was a full moon shining through our faux cathedral front windows; a soft breeze was cooling down the house through all our windows and doors, which I had open; one of my favorite late night "I think I'll see what's on the movie channels" movies was on. Essentially, I stayed awake and puttered around until a little after 0200.
As I was heading for bed, Mom awoke for a bathroom run, afterwhich, while in the hall, she noticed the cool breezes wafting through the house. "Are you going to be up for awhile?" she asked, unaware of what time it was.
Something in the tone of her voice and the light in her eyes that told me it might be a good idea if I said, "Yes. Want to join me?"
Thus began on of our rare and enjoyable middle of the night conversations. We talked about so many things: Relatives dead and alive, how good it feels to live on this spot of earth, the nature of existence, cats and their habits, a program we'd watched much earlier in the evening about who "Mary Magdalene" really was...it would have made a great podcast. I thought of this while we were talking but didn't want to spoil the spell or spontaneity by scrambling to set up the microphone and trigger the software.
At one point she started rummaging for what I'm sure were cigarettes, although she forgot what she was looking for and I didn't guess-remind her. The rummaging, though, told me that she was in a state of maximum enjoyment.
A little after 0400 Mom glanced at the clock and said, "My goodness girl, you've kept me up long past my bedtime!"
As I lay in my bed drifting off to sleep I remembered the nurses at the SNF reporting to me, a couple of times each week, that Mom would awaken in the middle of the night, shuffle out to the nurses station and keep the nurses company. They never discouraged her, never directed her back to bed before she was ready, one nurse even told me that she was glad for the company and, "I think you're Mom likes being up when everyone else is asleep."
This morning, as I kissed her goodnight yet again, I said, "Wow, this is a great way to begin Mother's Day, isn't it!"
"Is today Mother's Day? I thought it was yesterday!"
"Well, for you, it was. You're getting three Mother's Days this year."
"I have four daughters, maybe I should get one more."
"Good idea. We'll work on that."
Needless to say, I'm letting her sleep in yet again. I don't actually care if our days become caddy wampus. Its one of the pleasures of being able to devote my entire attention to being only my mother's caregiver.
I hope, as her body revs from the increased iron dosage, we'll have more of these nights.
Today is Official Mother's Day; including a gift of a tiara I bought to complement her Elizabeth R hairstyle, from which I know she'll get a huge kick; I mean, after all, a queenly hairstyle deserves a queenly accessory. During the viewing of two more episodes last night she noticed a couple of other hairstyles she liked. Maybe we'll break down this one and try another one before the day's over.
We'll probably have a mini-Mother's Day tomorrow, too. I thought she might miss family, this year...I'm not sure why I thought this, but I was wrong. We've been having a great Mother's Day Extended Weekend this year.
It's weekends like this (among other periods) that remind me that, fuck, I'm a lucky duck.
Later.
As I was heading for bed, Mom awoke for a bathroom run, afterwhich, while in the hall, she noticed the cool breezes wafting through the house. "Are you going to be up for awhile?" she asked, unaware of what time it was.
Something in the tone of her voice and the light in her eyes that told me it might be a good idea if I said, "Yes. Want to join me?"
Thus began on of our rare and enjoyable middle of the night conversations. We talked about so many things: Relatives dead and alive, how good it feels to live on this spot of earth, the nature of existence, cats and their habits, a program we'd watched much earlier in the evening about who "Mary Magdalene" really was...it would have made a great podcast. I thought of this while we were talking but didn't want to spoil the spell or spontaneity by scrambling to set up the microphone and trigger the software.
At one point she started rummaging for what I'm sure were cigarettes, although she forgot what she was looking for and I didn't guess-remind her. The rummaging, though, told me that she was in a state of maximum enjoyment.
A little after 0400 Mom glanced at the clock and said, "My goodness girl, you've kept me up long past my bedtime!"
As I lay in my bed drifting off to sleep I remembered the nurses at the SNF reporting to me, a couple of times each week, that Mom would awaken in the middle of the night, shuffle out to the nurses station and keep the nurses company. They never discouraged her, never directed her back to bed before she was ready, one nurse even told me that she was glad for the company and, "I think you're Mom likes being up when everyone else is asleep."
This morning, as I kissed her goodnight yet again, I said, "Wow, this is a great way to begin Mother's Day, isn't it!"
"Is today Mother's Day? I thought it was yesterday!"
"Well, for you, it was. You're getting three Mother's Days this year."
"I have four daughters, maybe I should get one more."
"Good idea. We'll work on that."
Needless to say, I'm letting her sleep in yet again. I don't actually care if our days become caddy wampus. Its one of the pleasures of being able to devote my entire attention to being only my mother's caregiver.
I hope, as her body revs from the increased iron dosage, we'll have more of these nights.
Today is Official Mother's Day; including a gift of a tiara I bought to complement her Elizabeth R hairstyle, from which I know she'll get a huge kick; I mean, after all, a queenly hairstyle deserves a queenly accessory. During the viewing of two more episodes last night she noticed a couple of other hairstyles she liked. Maybe we'll break down this one and try another one before the day's over.
We'll probably have a mini-Mother's Day tomorrow, too. I thought she might miss family, this year...I'm not sure why I thought this, but I was wrong. We've been having a great Mother's Day Extended Weekend this year.
It's weekends like this (among other periods) that remind me that, fuck, I'm a lucky duck.
Later.
