Everything my mother does is getting under my skin and I'm having a lot of trouble maintaining my sanity. She turned 91 yesterday. She had a pacemaker put in about a month ago, but she is still in atrial fibrillation so is on a lot of BP meds. She fights about many things, the whole giving up of independence issue. I try to ignore a lot, and I do try and lift her spirits, but when she refuses to take her pills and then something bad happens, then I'm the one who has to pick up the pieces, so I told her that if she was going to continue to stay in our house, she had to take her pills. She has a tissue fetish and everywhere in the house are bits and pieces of used tissue, she stuffs it up her sleeves, in her underwear, in her purse, in her pockets, in her bed, on the floor, it's everywhere; it gives me the creeps. I have politely asked her to try and empty her pockets and sleeves and underwear before I do her wash so I don't have to encounter it.
I realize that this sounds petty, it's just the build up of things, her attitude which is often demanding, she has trouble ever saying please, she just barks out orders. She is very vain about her appearance and even though she can hardly stand she will spend two hours on her face routine before she goes to bed. Which I'm sure is why she still looks so good at 91.
I love her but I am losing patience and tolerance. My husband says I just need to detach. Each day I get up, I ask God for more strength, love and tolerance, and humility. I am blessed with a good home; and when I think about Haiti and what is going on there, I get disgusted with myself.
OMG you made my day with the fishing pole idea!!! Wonder if that would work for the butt wiping too. I so needed this laugh today. I love this sight, just never know what will cheer you up. Thanks for sharing. and Next time I am wiping the butt, I will try not to start laughing out loud....
She has her pockets stuffed with so much paper she looks like a cartoon. She is very serious with her reasoning for drying her tissues that she blew her nose on the pictures on the table next to her. Hey, she isn't suffering from Dementia....clearly I am or I wouldn't be so careless with my tissue.
Grandma will fight you if you try to take her tissue or reason with her about it. She must sleep with 2 tissues under her pillow.
I have sat with her too long today. I have to go now so I can use paper and throw it away.
Hope you are getting a new perspective, Barb. She is a different person than the Mother you knew growing up. The bad things are worse, and most of the good things are gone--am I right, or am I right? Listen to your brilliant Husband--isn't that one of the reasons you married him? Detach is correct. I pretend my Mother is someone I am taking care of; I would like to forget as much of the past as she forgets the present.
How nice your Mother is able to to do her beauty treatments herself. I do my Mother's every morning, because she cannot see anymore, nor can she open a jar of moisturizer, or figure out how to hold a tube of lipstick--and I look and feel like a hag most of the time. Let her do it, count your blessings. Don't compare your life to someone in Haiti: God puts us where He wants us, gives us what we can handle, and all that stuff. Your life IS THE PITS right now, and that's the way it is for most of us, compared to how OUR LIVES used to be. Compare it to your own past-life. Your husband sounds nice and patient, like mine. Put him first, enjoy your time together. Mother will only get worse, so face it now. Just have that talk with yourself, Barb, and get some time EVERY DAY to do whatever. Hope you and hubby have a Happy Valentine's Day xoxoxox christina
Hugs,
christina
Here's another tissue family. I thought it was only my 84 year old mother. I am one part comforted that what I am experiencing (be it my mother's mean behavior and my negative feelings) seems, in part, to be universal so I am not alone. Another part is saddened that we have to experience this - wouldn't life be grand if everyone were nice and could age in a healthy fashion. And one part depressed that I have many years ahead to deal with the issues (I have absolutely no support other than my daughter who I am throwing out of the nest this Fall to go away to college as she needs a break - my younger brother is our only family and he has not chosen to visit his mother since before her hip fracture in Nov 2009). Thank you all for sharing and supporting each other.
She has to carry a box with her and a coffee cup while trying to manage her walker. Grossed out, she hacks and spits in them and then either holds them in her hand or drools into waste basket. I feel like screaming or barfing, usually both. I keep scented waste basket liners by her chair, bed and bath, use disosalable gloves, and yes shut my eyes when I empty them. Now that she at the nursing home I ony have o supply the big boxes of tissues. But I felt bad for her last room-mate who had to endure the hacking thing. Yeppa, you gottta laugh ...
Help my dad but she is stuck to him like glue. I had them check her but they say she is ok. So now i am really boiling mad . No one believes me but she has them in the palm of her hand. I was trying to help but my stress level is through the roof. I come home crying everyday feeling so worthless from her abuse. I am done unless my dad will see me without her . This just makes me sick my dad did not deserve this.
I talked to her about visiting the doctor to see if he might be able to do something to help with her memory loss. She flew into a rage. I stayed calm and told her I thought she needed to go. She got even angrier and ordered me to my room. So I just told her that she needed to go. I haven't mentioned dementia to her because I don't want to frighten her. Her memory is kaput, though, and her emotions are in turmoil. She is diabetic and has high blood sugar, so dementia has to be worked through.
I wanted to take control of her medications a few months ago. Her answer was that she would break any pill machine I brought in. She took all her medications to her room and hid them. She doesn't take them in front of me now, and I know she is often not truthful about how much she takes when it comes to her pain medicine and Ativan. Most of the time I feel like I've been saddled with a lot of responsibility, but without any power to do anything.
I could write many books, but they would all sound like crazy rambling. Each day I just hope that the next will be better. I get out a lot, but maybe I need to get out for longer. They won't let anyone else in the house, though. They live as hermits by choice, so there is just me. It is wearing me out.
I talked to her about visiting the doctor to see if he might be able to do something to help with her memory loss. She flew into a rage. I stayed calm and told her I thought she needed to go. She got even angrier and ordered me to my room. So I just told her that she needed to go. I haven't mentioned dementia to her because I don't want to frighten her. Her memory is kaput, though, and her emotions are in turmoil. She is diabetic and has high blood sugar, so dementia has to be worked through.
I wanted to take control of her medications a few months ago. Her answer was that she would break any pill machine I brought in. She took all her medications to her room and hid them. She doesn't take them in front of me now, and I know she is often not truthful about how much she takes when it comes to her pain medicine and Ativan. Most of the time I feel like I've been saddled with a lot of responsibility, but without any power to do anything.
I could write many books, but they would all sound like crazy rambling. Each day I just hope that the next will be better. I get out a lot, but maybe I need to get out for longer. They won't let anyone else in the house, though. They live as hermits by choice, so there is just me. It is wearing me out.
I'll certainly be glad for her app't on the 16th with the gerontologist/specialist; as her current meds aren't getting it. She's either all keyed up like this or so sedated she will hardly eat, drink or stay awake. She was up last night until 3:30 talking, anxious & fearful. It's getting increasingly difficult and I do have several helpers. Aaa-uu-u-ugh! Thanks for listening. :-/
I try to remind myself of the good times.. but each day the bad days keep outweighing the good....
So ...yeah.. I just draw faces and color the cardboard centers of the toilet papers and call them "friends".. LOL... One day life will get better, I just hope my sanity will still be here..