A bleeping addendum

I've cooled down a little, thanks to my caregiving rant and two bowls of buttered pasta. 

As I was discussing my day with Shrinky Dink, I realized that there were moments that were actually kind of funny.  (As with OCD, crazy is only funny after the fact.)

Speaking of crazy, my overdeveloped tendency toward guilt is what keeps me from opening the flood gates upon you, dear readers.  You see, I've long been afraid to say negative things about old people because THEY MIGHT DIE AND THEN HOW WOULD I FEEL?

Prior to accepting the mantle of caregiver, I was under the illusion that all older people are nice and sweet and gentle and right all the time.  That fantasy persisted through jobs at a nursing home, a retirement community, a hospice, and as a geriatric case worker. 

What I finally learned is that people are who they are no matter their age.  Old age doesn't make a person nicer or gentler or more trustworthy.  (Did I mention the time an old guy slipped me some tongue?)  Many older people are wiser, but some are still the bullheaded, cantankerous churls they've always been.  (Not talking about a specific person here, y'all.) 

I think my belief in the superiority of old people originated from the love and nurturing I received from my grandparents.  I know I complain about my grandma now, but she was exactly what I needed growing up.  Loss and depression and illness and a little dementia have brought out some qualities that I never glimpsed as a child or teenager.  I just knew that my grandparents were my heroes.  That's why I decided to study gerontology in college.  I knew the need was there, and I felt comfortable around older people, so it was a natural choice.

Caregiving has grown me up.  No more illusions.  And I liked my illusions.

If I tell you what set me off today, you'll think it's funny.  And it is.  But it wasn't at approximately 5:30pm Central Standard Time.

Nature Boy and I picked up my grandma today and we went out to lunch.  Then we went shopping.  She wanted something more to eat, so I took her to Braum's.  They handed all 92 pounds of her a giant banana split.  And I'm not lying, y'all, she packed that sucker away.  I was impressed.  But wait!  As she pushed the remains of the behemoth away, she said, "A hamburger would have tasted better."  Sigh.  It is well known among my family and friends that my grandma complains about meals at restaurants EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.  It doesn't matter how fancy the restaurant is or how much money you spend on her meal.  It's never good enough.  I gritted my teeth a little, and she got her hamburger.  AND DIDN'T EAT IT!  Anyhoo, that's not what ticked me off.  That was just typical Meemaw.

It was a beautiful day outside.  We enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine.  Food, shopping, what more could a woman want, right?  The answer, folks, is MORE.  I picked her up in response to our typical phone conversation:

Me:  Hey, Meemaw!  How are you doing?
Her:  Oh, I'm OK.  Just sitting here.  Bored.  Nothing else to do.  Everybody has their own lives, I guess.
Me (ignoring the complaint):  What did you have for lunch?  Did you play BINGO today?
Her:  Some soggy fish.  No, I didn't play BINGO.  The prizes are things like toilet paper and hand soap.  It's just a waste of time.
Me:  But you were saying that you're bored, so I thought...
Her:  Yeah, it gets really lonely here.  No one to talk to.  Just the idiot box to watch.  It's depressing, really.
Me:  Well, that's why I figured you'd go play BINGO.  You can make friends with other women there.
Her:  I just didn't feel like going.
Me (changing the subject):  Well, I've had a busy day.  I'm about to go to the grocery store...
Her:  That reminds me, I need milk and bacon and ham.
Me:  I just bought you bacon and ham two days ago.
Her:  Well, I must've ate it all.
Me (saying goodbye to my peaceful solo Walmart trek):  OK, I'll come and pick you up.

So after a nice afternoon, we went to her senior apartment and as I'm putting her groceries away (and noting that she does, in fact, still have the bacon and ham that I bought her two days ago), she started melodramatically sighing and saying things like, "I don't know if it's worth living like this." 

And I'm like, What?!  We just had a nice afternoon and all of a sudden there's suicidal ideation?

My husband says that's just Meemaw being Meemaw and I should just ignore it. 

He's such a man.

A 37-year-old man, as of today!

Happy birthday, Tree Guy!  (I heart you, even though you have no clue about girl drama!)

Bleep.

I first entitled this post Mu%*$#*!~&er!  It really captures my current mood.  But there is a standard for appropriate mom behavior here in the Bible Belt, and I don't want to piss off offend my fellow homeschool moms.  Not that we're all paragons of virtue.  We get mad and jealous and catty and irritated like every other woman on the planet.  It's just that some of us are better at hiding that fact.  Me, not so much.

So it is with great effort that I say in a sweet and gentle way that I am a little angry right now.  It has to do with caregiving.  Well, more that just caregiving.  Guilt trips, manipulation, never being satisfied, and all manner of crappy stuff that caregivers often deal with on top of the actual caregiving responsibilities.

Stepping up to be the (usually) one person who helps often means serving as a toxic waste dump for all the unhappiness, grief, loneliness, depression, anger, and helplessness that the person you're caring for is experiencing.  The irony of this is that the rest of the family gets off nearly scot-free.  No extra work for them and freedom from all the extraneous emotional stuff that comes with frequent contact with an unhappy person.

And that's not fair, y'all.

I think people become caregivers for three reasons.

1.  There's literally no one else.  Maybe the rest of the family lives far away and Mom doesn't want to move, or you're an only child and your parents don't have the money to hire someone to help.

2.  Guilt.  "I can't turn my back on him after all he did for me."  "If I don't help, I won't be able to live with myself after she's gone."  "What kind of person would I be if I leave his care to strangers?"

and

3.  A total lack of awareness of what caregiving entails.

Perhaps caregivers would have an easier time if they entered the role with a realistic picture of what the life of a caregiver is like.  Because one of the most painful parts of being a caregiver is the shattering of the illusion of the ideal.  You think, We'll grow even closer!, or, It will feel great to be able to help Grandma.  For some people, that might be true.  But another truth is that your relationship with your ill family member will never be the same.  It gets very complicated.  Sometimes the relationship breaks down completely, and then there's a loss (of a close relationship) before the final loss (death).  Caregiving isn't for the faint of heart.   

As a public service, I've created a job description for family caregivers.
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WANTED:  FAMILY CAREGIVER

Pay: None
Hours: On-call 24/7; active duty - a little longer than you're willing/able
Benefits:  job security; familiarity with Medicare, Social Security, and Depends way before your peers; the satisfaction of doing the right thing; self-righteous assurance of your own moral superiority
Responsibilities:
-gently but firmly steer family member toward safe choices (use walker, no smoking while on oxygen, accept help while bathing, etc.)
-remind and then demand regular bathing
-endure regular guilt trips and occasional verbal abuse
-fight occasional food battles (family member may refuse to eat if you are not present)
-accept the expectation that most of your plans will include your family member
-accept the fact that although you are the only one providing care, you will be the bad guy
-endure complaints and criticism made about you to other family members
-constant availability for emergencies
-constant availability for grocery store runs
-wait at appointments
-wait on hold with various agencies, companies, and offices
-pay bills, do paperwork, run errands
-remain silent when you are told by other family members that you have done more than anyone expects and that you are not required to do anymore (note absence of offer to help)
-endure complaints about food no matter who cooks it, how good it tastes, or how free it is
-accept a lower sex drive and less tolerance for the needs of the other people in your life
-accept that what you do will never be enough
Special Skills Required:
-excellent organizational skills
-superhuman tolerance for manipulation
-100% confidence that you will not go postal on your loved one--ever
-the ability to maintain your own capacity for joy
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I know that family caregivers are absolutely necessary.  I consider it an obligation.  And more than that, I believe that it's what God wants us to do. 

But that doesn't make it easy. 

Next on my reading list:

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Last year I played an April Fools prank on my husband and mom (we'll call her Buffet Brawler*). It worked so well that I wrote a blog post about it to prank the readers of my old blog. Here it is.
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This morning my son and I stopped by Petsmart to buy dog food. There's an adoption event going on, so I had to park pretty far out. Before getting out of the car, I plugged my cell phone in to charge. While I was doing that, a man opened my passenger side door and poked his head in. I had just seen this guy out by the main road. I remembered him because he was wearing a chicken suit and holding one of those signs that says, "OUT OF BUSINESS SALE! EVERYTHING MUST GO!" The Circuit City next to Petsmart is going out of business and has had guys in costume holding up those signs and dancing around to draw attention to the signs for weeks.

The guy said in a low voice, "Get out of the car." I said, "What?!" My son said, "He said to get out of the car, Mom!" I have to admit that there was a moment of confusion for me. The guy didn't look threatening. Especially in a chicken suit. He didn't have a weapon. My first thought was that this was a practical joke. Nature Boy however, wasted no time in getting out of the car. I'm sure it was only seconds, but it felt like minutes as my mind put together what was happening. I grabbed my purse (I am a tad paranoid, so I didn't want to give him access to my driver's license) and got out. I was so intent on leaving with my purse that I didn't think to grab the keys out of the ignition. The guy scooted over to the driver's side, and my son and I hightailed it up to the store to call the police. (My cell phone was charging in the car, remember.)

On the way, I looked back and saw the tail end of my car as it turned out of the row I had parked in. I was starting to freak out, but I tried to hold it together to avoid upsetting Nature Boy further. Right as we reached the walkway in front of Petsmart, the guy pulled up. He had just circled around the parking lot. I jumped in front of my son and yelled, "GET IN THE STORE!" He ran inside and I prepared to use my purse as a weapon. Chicken Suit Guy got out of the car and yelled, "Never mind! Sorry!"

And then he ran off.

In his chicken suit.

My son and two store employees came out as the guy rounded the building. I told them what had happened and they offered to call the police. I told them I would call, but because I'm paranoid, I got in the car to make sure the guy hadn't taken anything first. I turned my cell phone on to call the police, but wavered while waiting for it to boot up. I had 15 minutes to get home before the exterminator was supposed to show up, and I knew filing a police report would take much longer than that. Besides, all the guy really did was take my car for a spin around the parking lot of Petsmart. And it's not like I could identify him what with the chicken suit and all. So we just drove home.

So here I am. And the exterminator is late.
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Can you believe this prank worked? I submit that it was believable only because I included several nonessential facts that rang true to my mom and husband. They were familiar with the Circuit City chicken suit guy, they know I'm paranoid, I mentioned an adoption event at Petsmart, etc. Also, the story was so ridiculous that they thought it was an April Fools prank on me.  (Tricky!)

Have you ever pulled off a successful prank?

*Stay tuned for the story of the Showdown at Golden Corral.