Tuesday, November 30, 2010
You don't think it can happen....... but it does.
Well, my last day of "holidays". Wow, it just whips by. I spoke with Mum last nite on the phone. She was highly agitated and confused. I listened to her as she spun this story about my Dad, and how he had promised to meet her there, at the guest house, for lunch. Here she was, still waiting, and it was well after dark. She then said, "I've spent my life waiting for your father, he'll never change".
What is the right thing to do in this situation? I would appreciate some feedback. (oh if only someone was actually READING this.... :). I have two approaches. The first approach is not correcting her. When she speaks of my Dad in the present tense, as if he is still alive, on most occasions, I cannot bring myself to inform her of his death. It's like she's learning of it for the first time, all over again. However, when I do this, I run the risk that she will realize, halfway through, that she is speaking in the past. Mum will stop talking abruptly, get this dazed look in her eye, followed by a pained look, followed by a nervous attempt to cover up the fact that she has just been talking about my dead father, her dead husband, as if he were still alive and with us.
My second approach is to correct her right off the bat. To see the horrified look on her face when I initially tell her he passed away almost four yrs ago, and comfort her while I explain her memory issues to her, at the same time, reminding her all over again that the love of her life is dead.
Last nite, I chose to just chat her through it. I wasn't there to comfort her in person, and I knew the phone call would be cut short, under 10 minutes, so I chose to "go with the flow" and listen as she told me of Dad's great tardiness. I was actually quite surprised at her complet disconnect with reality last nite. As I sit here typing this on my laptop, I am thinking about her diagnosis, and way back when we learned of her AD. You don't think it's goingto progress. You don't think that your own mother will ever forget you, or important things in our lives, or who she is...... but they do. It doesn't matter how much you loved them, or hated them, how good they were to you, or how horrible.... it all gets forgotten.
I try to empathize and I try to imagine what it would be like to forget my husband, my sister/brother, my children, my life, and I cannot. I find it scary and unthinkable.
My mother is living that scary and unthinkable nitemare right in front of me. Which is why I will care for her, and provide her with a comfortable, decent, caring, dignified and safe place where she can lose her mind completely.
My Mum was there for me through many good, bad and scary times and I will be there for her.
Tomorrow she returns home, and its back to the crazy life. See you then!
What is the right thing to do in this situation? I would appreciate some feedback. (oh if only someone was actually READING this.... :). I have two approaches. The first approach is not correcting her. When she speaks of my Dad in the present tense, as if he is still alive, on most occasions, I cannot bring myself to inform her of his death. It's like she's learning of it for the first time, all over again. However, when I do this, I run the risk that she will realize, halfway through, that she is speaking in the past. Mum will stop talking abruptly, get this dazed look in her eye, followed by a pained look, followed by a nervous attempt to cover up the fact that she has just been talking about my dead father, her dead husband, as if he were still alive and with us.
My second approach is to correct her right off the bat. To see the horrified look on her face when I initially tell her he passed away almost four yrs ago, and comfort her while I explain her memory issues to her, at the same time, reminding her all over again that the love of her life is dead.
Last nite, I chose to just chat her through it. I wasn't there to comfort her in person, and I knew the phone call would be cut short, under 10 minutes, so I chose to "go with the flow" and listen as she told me of Dad's great tardiness. I was actually quite surprised at her complet disconnect with reality last nite. As I sit here typing this on my laptop, I am thinking about her diagnosis, and way back when we learned of her AD. You don't think it's goingto progress. You don't think that your own mother will ever forget you, or important things in our lives, or who she is...... but they do. It doesn't matter how much you loved them, or hated them, how good they were to you, or how horrible.... it all gets forgotten.
I try to empathize and I try to imagine what it would be like to forget my husband, my sister/brother, my children, my life, and I cannot. I find it scary and unthinkable.
My mother is living that scary and unthinkable nitemare right in front of me. Which is why I will care for her, and provide her with a comfortable, decent, caring, dignified and safe place where she can lose her mind completely.
My Mum was there for me through many good, bad and scary times and I will be there for her.
Tomorrow she returns home, and its back to the crazy life. See you then!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Making my way to Greenland.
good morning.
busy weekend for me. Mum is still in respite. I call her everyday, as now I feel like my batteries are recharged and I am missing her terribly. I'm ready to pick her up now, but will wait until the scheduled day, on Wednesday. Our chats (daily) consist of her telling me different stories. On Friday, she told me that she spent the day looking at houses, condos and apartments. She had decided that she didn't want to stay in the guest house permanently, and that they tell her she is only a guest there. I thought this was quite a feat, as her story was definately elaborate, right down to details about a house she had looked at, that she instantly liked. Her suite being on the main floor, there was lots of room for my family too. The kitchen was beautiful, and would we like to live with her? I enjoyed this story, proves to me that Mum's brain still works in many capacities. I let her chat on and on. For a split second, I imagined that we were just "chatting" like we always used to. It was nice.
Its funny to hear these stories... like a snapshot into what's firing in her brain at the moment.
Speaking of what's firing in a brain..... I am beginning to let my guard down a little bit in terms of what I write here. Almost like I am getting comfortable with my surroundings. I think that I have yet to let my dark humour out on the pages.....worried that I will scare you away with my thoughts and actions. But maybe I've already scared you with all the boredom of my entries, so I'll let my guard down a little this morning.
My keyes. A constant struggle in my house, daily, with my truk keys. We recently (yesterday) finished our mudroom. I always remember our mudroom from NW ont. Was awesome. To me, a kid at the time, it seemed huge. That's how I remember it. But Mum was always way ahead of her time in terms of her living quarters and their design. Anyway... keys. I designed our current mudroom to be a place of optimum storage space and organization. A place for everything. Now i feel like I know where my stuff is. I feel like it's everyone else that dis-organizes me. Yesterday, for example, I used the truk only once. Hubby used it quite a few times. My keys? No where to be found this morning. Not hanging where they should be, not in my purse, pockets, bedside table.... no where. I'm betting my left breast that they are in the work truk. But I'll never know, cause he'll get home and put them somewhere that he can claim I left them. I know this, because I've set traps in the past. Hubby will do anything to deflect blame. Yes, I'm frustrated this morning, angry and crabby now, as I have no keys. But life is short, so I pick my battles.
Its funny that one of the things I wanted to do this week off, was watch the movie "Eat, Pray, Love". I did watch it and it was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that I paid $8 for it, and never finished the movie. I turned it off after 20 minutes or so. I really felt that the movie's best line was in the first 5 minutes, when she decides she's leaving her marriage. Julia Roberts (The character) says this:
"the only thing harder than staying in this marriage... is leaving. I wish I could slip quietly out the back door, start running, and not stop till I hit Greenland"
If it wasn't for the kids, if I wasn't picking Mum up on Wednesday, I would slip out the back door, start running and not stop till I got to Greenland.
busy weekend for me. Mum is still in respite. I call her everyday, as now I feel like my batteries are recharged and I am missing her terribly. I'm ready to pick her up now, but will wait until the scheduled day, on Wednesday. Our chats (daily) consist of her telling me different stories. On Friday, she told me that she spent the day looking at houses, condos and apartments. She had decided that she didn't want to stay in the guest house permanently, and that they tell her she is only a guest there. I thought this was quite a feat, as her story was definately elaborate, right down to details about a house she had looked at, that she instantly liked. Her suite being on the main floor, there was lots of room for my family too. The kitchen was beautiful, and would we like to live with her? I enjoyed this story, proves to me that Mum's brain still works in many capacities. I let her chat on and on. For a split second, I imagined that we were just "chatting" like we always used to. It was nice.
Its funny to hear these stories... like a snapshot into what's firing in her brain at the moment.
Speaking of what's firing in a brain..... I am beginning to let my guard down a little bit in terms of what I write here. Almost like I am getting comfortable with my surroundings. I think that I have yet to let my dark humour out on the pages.....worried that I will scare you away with my thoughts and actions. But maybe I've already scared you with all the boredom of my entries, so I'll let my guard down a little this morning.
My keyes. A constant struggle in my house, daily, with my truk keys. We recently (yesterday) finished our mudroom. I always remember our mudroom from NW ont. Was awesome. To me, a kid at the time, it seemed huge. That's how I remember it. But Mum was always way ahead of her time in terms of her living quarters and their design. Anyway... keys. I designed our current mudroom to be a place of optimum storage space and organization. A place for everything. Now i feel like I know where my stuff is. I feel like it's everyone else that dis-organizes me. Yesterday, for example, I used the truk only once. Hubby used it quite a few times. My keys? No where to be found this morning. Not hanging where they should be, not in my purse, pockets, bedside table.... no where. I'm betting my left breast that they are in the work truk. But I'll never know, cause he'll get home and put them somewhere that he can claim I left them. I know this, because I've set traps in the past. Hubby will do anything to deflect blame. Yes, I'm frustrated this morning, angry and crabby now, as I have no keys. But life is short, so I pick my battles.
Its funny that one of the things I wanted to do this week off, was watch the movie "Eat, Pray, Love". I did watch it and it was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that I paid $8 for it, and never finished the movie. I turned it off after 20 minutes or so. I really felt that the movie's best line was in the first 5 minutes, when she decides she's leaving her marriage. Julia Roberts (The character) says this:
"the only thing harder than staying in this marriage... is leaving. I wish I could slip quietly out the back door, start running, and not stop till I hit Greenland"
If it wasn't for the kids, if I wasn't picking Mum up on Wednesday, I would slip out the back door, start running and not stop till I got to Greenland.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
An obstacle course.
Day #5 of my holiday. I'll admit, I am missing my Mum. Started yesterday...walking past her room, completely empty. Now, I know that I sound hypocritical when I say that I miss her, but I really do. This is why a respite holiday is so important for a caregiver. It gives us a well-deserved and needed break, and refreshes our outlook. When I pick Mum up, I will be happy to see her. That will last ..... I can't predict how long it will be until the tasks morph into one entire dreaded day, but it will happen. It always does, and then I will take a break again.
We leave for Florida on Jan 30th/11. That is my next scheduled break. But until then, I will enjoy this one. Yes, I am back in my cave. Unfortunately, they are finishing the brick on the house next door and there is a generator running. It's an annoying noise. There are also saw-cutters running, to cut the brick, combined it makes for a very noisy area, not one condusive with resting. I will put my headphones on, block out the noise and relax. By 10:30, I should have managed to filter all the sound into background or white noise. :)
I have a question: I am wondering if Mum's dementia makes people uncomfortable? As in "uncomfortable speaking with her"? The reason I ask, is that certain family members, and certain friends have completely cut her off. No calls, no contact, no communication. I find this hard to understand, and hard to swallow. It might be different for me, as I am in the midst of it everyday, and cannot fathom cutting Mum off....especially at a time like this, when she is so fragile. But yes, there are people who were very close with Mum, who have just dropped off the face of the earth, never to phone, write or initiate any kind of contact with her again. It is much easier for me to believe that the dementia makes them uncomfortable. After all, she can be hard to understand, hard to deal with in terms of the repetitiveness, and I am led to believe that causes discomfort for them. Also, in terms of her friends, maybe they don't like to see another example of old age staring them in the face? To watch a once vital, vibrant friend that they used to share laughs, wine and secrets with, suddenly dissapear into a void of dementia blankness?
These explanations make me feel less angry at them, for their lack of concern and effort towards Mum. At least they do for a minute. Then I just realise that even if fear, ignorance and turning a blind eye are factors, any decent human being would overcome these obstacles to initiate contact with Mum. Especially knowing the role that she once played in each of their lives. Hello? Marjorie is still here. You should pick up the phone every once and a while. Why not try jumping the obstacle instead of hiding behind it?
peace out.
We leave for Florida on Jan 30th/11. That is my next scheduled break. But until then, I will enjoy this one. Yes, I am back in my cave. Unfortunately, they are finishing the brick on the house next door and there is a generator running. It's an annoying noise. There are also saw-cutters running, to cut the brick, combined it makes for a very noisy area, not one condusive with resting. I will put my headphones on, block out the noise and relax. By 10:30, I should have managed to filter all the sound into background or white noise. :)
I have a question: I am wondering if Mum's dementia makes people uncomfortable? As in "uncomfortable speaking with her"? The reason I ask, is that certain family members, and certain friends have completely cut her off. No calls, no contact, no communication. I find this hard to understand, and hard to swallow. It might be different for me, as I am in the midst of it everyday, and cannot fathom cutting Mum off....especially at a time like this, when she is so fragile. But yes, there are people who were very close with Mum, who have just dropped off the face of the earth, never to phone, write or initiate any kind of contact with her again. It is much easier for me to believe that the dementia makes them uncomfortable. After all, she can be hard to understand, hard to deal with in terms of the repetitiveness, and I am led to believe that causes discomfort for them. Also, in terms of her friends, maybe they don't like to see another example of old age staring them in the face? To watch a once vital, vibrant friend that they used to share laughs, wine and secrets with, suddenly dissapear into a void of dementia blankness?
These explanations make me feel less angry at them, for their lack of concern and effort towards Mum. At least they do for a minute. Then I just realise that even if fear, ignorance and turning a blind eye are factors, any decent human being would overcome these obstacles to initiate contact with Mum. Especially knowing the role that she once played in each of their lives. Hello? Marjorie is still here. You should pick up the phone every once and a while. Why not try jumping the obstacle instead of hiding behind it?
peace out.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
What a difference 4.5 days make!!!!
Here I am again. I'm back the following day. Wow. Impressive.
I am on Day # 5 of my respite vacation. I called Mum last nite, to check on her and say hi. She was exhausted last nite, and launched into quite a long story about how she spent the entire day running around looking at new houses. Not only did she see quite a few of them, she also saw a couple of apartments that she really liked. She went on to say how she has never liked apartments, but is beginning to like the whole idea of living in a secure building. I listened to her stories, all the while wondering where the hell all this was coming from.... the whole househunting thing. My brother made a keen observation, when I was telling him about this, saying that "obviously something is firing up there in her brain". And that made me feel better. Mum's idea may be way out in left field, but the root of them proves she still has the ability to think that she is normal, functioning well. And that pleases me.
I am beginning to feel better. Back to my old self. 4.5 days of rest, and I'm getting back to normal. Respite is so important when you are caring for a dementia patient full time. Like I said, in my earlier posts, I am with Mum 24/7, and while we have a great little routine down pat, there comes a point where all those little "tasks" that you dread, begin to thread together, to produce one entire day of dread, day in, day out. I was past that point last week, so Respite is essential. A service that no caregiver should be without.
I also have a nite off tonight. I placed leftover ham, some potatoes, onions and a couple of cans of Campbell's asparagus soup in the crock pot this morning, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and I'm now in my cave for the afternoon. No where to be tonight. No arena, no nothing. dinner is prepared and I'm as free as a bird. I'm not quite sure WHAT to do with myself.
which I guess, is what allowed me to blog two days in a row!! I wonder if you can hear the difference in my words. The difference 4.5 days of rest makes. The difference that 4.5 days of quiet, peace, darkness, alone-time, crazy solitude makes.. Well, if you can't see it.... you are most definately blind!!!!!
I am on Day # 5 of my respite vacation. I called Mum last nite, to check on her and say hi. She was exhausted last nite, and launched into quite a long story about how she spent the entire day running around looking at new houses. Not only did she see quite a few of them, she also saw a couple of apartments that she really liked. She went on to say how she has never liked apartments, but is beginning to like the whole idea of living in a secure building. I listened to her stories, all the while wondering where the hell all this was coming from.... the whole househunting thing. My brother made a keen observation, when I was telling him about this, saying that "obviously something is firing up there in her brain". And that made me feel better. Mum's idea may be way out in left field, but the root of them proves she still has the ability to think that she is normal, functioning well. And that pleases me.
I am beginning to feel better. Back to my old self. 4.5 days of rest, and I'm getting back to normal. Respite is so important when you are caring for a dementia patient full time. Like I said, in my earlier posts, I am with Mum 24/7, and while we have a great little routine down pat, there comes a point where all those little "tasks" that you dread, begin to thread together, to produce one entire day of dread, day in, day out. I was past that point last week, so Respite is essential. A service that no caregiver should be without.
I also have a nite off tonight. I placed leftover ham, some potatoes, onions and a couple of cans of Campbell's asparagus soup in the crock pot this morning, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and I'm now in my cave for the afternoon. No where to be tonight. No arena, no nothing. dinner is prepared and I'm as free as a bird. I'm not quite sure WHAT to do with myself.
which I guess, is what allowed me to blog two days in a row!! I wonder if you can hear the difference in my words. The difference 4.5 days of rest makes. The difference that 4.5 days of quiet, peace, darkness, alone-time, crazy solitude makes.. Well, if you can't see it.... you are most definately blind!!!!!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Cave.
Good Day folks:
I am now trying to enter only once per week. I don't want this blogging to become something I dread, so I am trying not to place too much emphasis and pressure on daily entries. I have enough of that, I don't need to be adding to it with this.\
Mum is in respite this week. I am currently holed away in my "cave". That is the name I affectionately gave my bedroom. It's my space. Where I retreat for peace and quiet. I have learned, as a caregiver, you need a space like this. For me it's my bedroom. I have black out blinds, my computer, a tv and my comfy bed. It's a place where I go to seek quiet. No voices, no social interraction, nobody wanting/needing or getting anything from me. As the primary caregiver of a dementia patient, I find that solitude is one of my greatest wants. Mum is always with me. She is always needing me for something. Food, security, bathroom issues, reassurance, asking repeated questions, guidance etc. Mum is full-on, 24hr per day, 7 days per week. I pull the blinds and make it extremely dark. I get comfy in my bed and I either surf, watch TV or read. The door is shut and locked, and I am safely away in my quiet zone. Sometimes an hour up here does the trick, but right now, while Mum is away at respite, I am spending two whole days up here to regroup, recoupe, recharge and recover. Kids are gone from 9am till 2pm. That is the time I can spend here, for two whole days. Then all my other responsibilities kick in and I have to get my ass in gear and get going.
As a caregiver, I highly recommend this. It's not unheathly or anti-social .... I don't look at it like that at all. It's a way of recharging your batteries so that you can continue to care for your loved one, in a capacity that is successful and healthy. And in my case, it is an essential part of me being both a decent mother/wife AND a caregiver. Selfish? Maybe. But if you don't do it, recharge, you will ultimately burn out. That is not good for anyone in this equation.
I miss my Mum. I cannot wait to get her home again, but I am also enjoying my time alone...... in my cave.
I am now trying to enter only once per week. I don't want this blogging to become something I dread, so I am trying not to place too much emphasis and pressure on daily entries. I have enough of that, I don't need to be adding to it with this.\
Mum is in respite this week. I am currently holed away in my "cave". That is the name I affectionately gave my bedroom. It's my space. Where I retreat for peace and quiet. I have learned, as a caregiver, you need a space like this. For me it's my bedroom. I have black out blinds, my computer, a tv and my comfy bed. It's a place where I go to seek quiet. No voices, no social interraction, nobody wanting/needing or getting anything from me. As the primary caregiver of a dementia patient, I find that solitude is one of my greatest wants. Mum is always with me. She is always needing me for something. Food, security, bathroom issues, reassurance, asking repeated questions, guidance etc. Mum is full-on, 24hr per day, 7 days per week. I pull the blinds and make it extremely dark. I get comfy in my bed and I either surf, watch TV or read. The door is shut and locked, and I am safely away in my quiet zone. Sometimes an hour up here does the trick, but right now, while Mum is away at respite, I am spending two whole days up here to regroup, recoupe, recharge and recover. Kids are gone from 9am till 2pm. That is the time I can spend here, for two whole days. Then all my other responsibilities kick in and I have to get my ass in gear and get going.
As a caregiver, I highly recommend this. It's not unheathly or anti-social .... I don't look at it like that at all. It's a way of recharging your batteries so that you can continue to care for your loved one, in a capacity that is successful and healthy. And in my case, it is an essential part of me being both a decent mother/wife AND a caregiver. Selfish? Maybe. But if you don't do it, recharge, you will ultimately burn out. That is not good for anyone in this equation.
I miss my Mum. I cannot wait to get her home again, but I am also enjoying my time alone...... in my cave.
Monday, November 15, 2010
There comes a time....
Yes, less than diligent. I know. These days, I am finding it really difficult to sit down and actually write about my day. Mum\s Day. There are probably many reasons for this: I am busy with volunteer stuff, I am busy with the kids' stuff, busy running my house (or trying) and busy with Mum.
Mum keeps me busy. Mentally. All day.
That may be a statement hard for most to understand. Easy for a caregiver to understand.
I notice that mum has declined quite a bit over the last three months. Call it a backslide? She rarely has any idea of time and date, she sleeps in the day, she is up in the nite. She has absolutely no idea where she is when she wakes up, finally, during the day. I find this really horrifying. Can you, just for a minute, imagine waking up and having absolutely no idea where you are, and what you are doing there?
Amazingly enough, she is usually thankful to see me. She almost always recognizes me, but that is beginning to change too. How is she goingto react every day, waking up, and not knowing who I am? When this happens, I try to quickly bring up my father's name. This jolts her memory, as I believe she will remember PJ until the day she dies. It takes a second, but you can see it all swirling around in her head, as she tries to grasp onto one or any memory she can.
But that has it's drawbacks too. Gets me out of one sticky spot... but throws me directly into another. Bringing up PJ's name then launches all sorts of questions on his whereabouts. Mum has no memory that he's dead...most of the time.
The constant repetition is killing me. The Obsessive Compulsiveness is killing me. Combine these and I'm pushed right to the edge. I can feel that I am in desperate need of a break right now.
Last nite, it took me over three hours of constant attention and numerous attempts at finally getting mum successfully and safely into her bed. It's ridiculous, it's surreal, it's outlandish, it's crazy, it's demented and it's getting the better of me. In dementia-land, when you ask the sufferer to do something, like go to bed, you have to hold their hand every step of the way. You cannot leave for a minute, or all momentum is lost. Even if you follow it through, right to the end, (like actually getting her into bed\), it is usually followed by numerous wanders, questions, arguments, etc.... repeated over and over and over again, until finally something clicks and she is happy to stay snug in her bed. Simple tasks/routines like bedtime, morph into these horrific, horrendous tasks that you dread each and every day. Another example is the shower routine, or the bathroom routine. Yeah... you just grow to dread them.
What is sad, is that if you thread all these dreaded experiences together.... for example: dressing, washing, bathroom, meals, teeth brushing, bedtime etc............. There comes a time when you thread them together, stand back and realize that you are basically dreading your whole day... each and every day. Yes. There comes a time when you realize that you are dreading your life.
Mum is headed into respite for 21 days, at the end of this week. By the time she returns, I will be refreshed, rested, a little relaxed and ready to face each day with a new and different routine.
This (I find) is a very effective and efficient way to deal with the overload of "there comes a time". Its probably not. It's probably really unhealthy to bring myself to the burnout point, only to barely pull myself back for another really short time. But it's my way, it's working and I will have lotsa time to rest when I'm dead. :)
peace out.
Mum keeps me busy. Mentally. All day.
That may be a statement hard for most to understand. Easy for a caregiver to understand.
I notice that mum has declined quite a bit over the last three months. Call it a backslide? She rarely has any idea of time and date, she sleeps in the day, she is up in the nite. She has absolutely no idea where she is when she wakes up, finally, during the day. I find this really horrifying. Can you, just for a minute, imagine waking up and having absolutely no idea where you are, and what you are doing there?
Amazingly enough, she is usually thankful to see me. She almost always recognizes me, but that is beginning to change too. How is she goingto react every day, waking up, and not knowing who I am? When this happens, I try to quickly bring up my father's name. This jolts her memory, as I believe she will remember PJ until the day she dies. It takes a second, but you can see it all swirling around in her head, as she tries to grasp onto one or any memory she can.
But that has it's drawbacks too. Gets me out of one sticky spot... but throws me directly into another. Bringing up PJ's name then launches all sorts of questions on his whereabouts. Mum has no memory that he's dead...most of the time.
The constant repetition is killing me. The Obsessive Compulsiveness is killing me. Combine these and I'm pushed right to the edge. I can feel that I am in desperate need of a break right now.
Last nite, it took me over three hours of constant attention and numerous attempts at finally getting mum successfully and safely into her bed. It's ridiculous, it's surreal, it's outlandish, it's crazy, it's demented and it's getting the better of me. In dementia-land, when you ask the sufferer to do something, like go to bed, you have to hold their hand every step of the way. You cannot leave for a minute, or all momentum is lost. Even if you follow it through, right to the end, (like actually getting her into bed\), it is usually followed by numerous wanders, questions, arguments, etc.... repeated over and over and over again, until finally something clicks and she is happy to stay snug in her bed. Simple tasks/routines like bedtime, morph into these horrific, horrendous tasks that you dread each and every day. Another example is the shower routine, or the bathroom routine. Yeah... you just grow to dread them.
What is sad, is that if you thread all these dreaded experiences together.... for example: dressing, washing, bathroom, meals, teeth brushing, bedtime etc............. There comes a time when you thread them together, stand back and realize that you are basically dreading your whole day... each and every day. Yes. There comes a time when you realize that you are dreading your life.
Mum is headed into respite for 21 days, at the end of this week. By the time she returns, I will be refreshed, rested, a little relaxed and ready to face each day with a new and different routine.
This (I find) is a very effective and efficient way to deal with the overload of "there comes a time". Its probably not. It's probably really unhealthy to bring myself to the burnout point, only to barely pull myself back for another really short time. But it's my way, it's working and I will have lotsa time to rest when I'm dead. :)
peace out.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Its never easy getting bounced......
Hi folks.
Yes, it's been a while since i've blogged. No excuses, other than I just haven't felt like it. I've been busy stressing about our upcoming trip to Florida. Trying to get cheap flites etc....
Getting bounced. M was officially "let go" from her day program last week. I believe I wrote to you about this at an earlier date, the issue being her bathroom routines, duties etc. Well yes... they bounced her. I'm not happy about it, but what can I do? Other than smile and thank them for all their service. It's sad.... M was just beginning to enjoy it.
I don't have alot of time to write today, as I'm heading off to the arena. I finally found my purse. it had been hidden quite deviously, under the coffee table in the living room. She hid it, i'm guessing, so that I would not leave the house last nite. In her mind, it's physically impossible for a woman to leave the house without her purse. Well... I left. My meeting was 3 hours last nite, and I left my husband in charge. That usually goes well, but last nite didn't go as expected. Emma ended up having to put nana "to bed" and sit with her for a while in order for her to calm down. God Bless my little Emma. Also God Bless my little Graham, for finally figuring out that sometimes it's just better to "get outta the mix". He dissapeared upstairs, never to be seen again, until I walked through the door @ 10 pm.
Ok folks. that's a boring entry for today, but sometimes I just have to "get back at writing"... whether it's interesting or not.
Yes, it's been a while since i've blogged. No excuses, other than I just haven't felt like it. I've been busy stressing about our upcoming trip to Florida. Trying to get cheap flites etc....
Getting bounced. M was officially "let go" from her day program last week. I believe I wrote to you about this at an earlier date, the issue being her bathroom routines, duties etc. Well yes... they bounced her. I'm not happy about it, but what can I do? Other than smile and thank them for all their service. It's sad.... M was just beginning to enjoy it.
I don't have alot of time to write today, as I'm heading off to the arena. I finally found my purse. it had been hidden quite deviously, under the coffee table in the living room. She hid it, i'm guessing, so that I would not leave the house last nite. In her mind, it's physically impossible for a woman to leave the house without her purse. Well... I left. My meeting was 3 hours last nite, and I left my husband in charge. That usually goes well, but last nite didn't go as expected. Emma ended up having to put nana "to bed" and sit with her for a while in order for her to calm down. God Bless my little Emma. Also God Bless my little Graham, for finally figuring out that sometimes it's just better to "get outta the mix". He dissapeared upstairs, never to be seen again, until I walked through the door @ 10 pm.
Ok folks. that's a boring entry for today, but sometimes I just have to "get back at writing"... whether it's interesting or not.
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