Observations and inanities by a second-shift assistant supervisor in the Puppy-Grinding division of the Evil Atheist Conspiracy® (our motto: "Sure it's cruel, but think of the jobs!"), your host, Brent Rasmussen.
I am not a saint.
I just lost my temper. I just had a full-fledged screaming fit, eyes bulging, veins throbbing, face beet red. At a 90 year old woman who knows no better, who is confused by the world around her due to Alzheimer's, who is likely dying.
Why did I just do this reprehensible thing, and why on earth am I admitting to it in a public forum?
The first part of that question is the more difficult one to answer. I did it out of frustration, exhaustion, and fear. Frustration because she (my MIL) has been exhibiting compulsive behaviours all morning which drive me nuts (tearing things out of magazines, wanting to write on the back of photos in the little album she has, 'cleaning' up some lunch mess with a kleenex and in the process smearing stuff all over the table top and making more work for me.) This sort of thing rapidly gets under my skin - it's like some small kid pestering you with a behaviour that they know will drive you nuts. Except, of course, that in this case she doesn't really know what the hell she is doing.
Exhaustion is obvious. Though I have been getting a lot more sleep, this is the end of years of being a care-giver. I do not have 'reserves' to draw upon. I only have a worn and fragile veneer of sanity. I have had these discussions with her hundreds of times. Sometimes, like this one, I just snap.
Fear? Because she is dying. Because in some sense, while I know that we have done everything humanly possible to care for her, and extended her life by years . . . I will still feel a sense of failure as a care provider. I hate to fail at things. I fear that others will think less of me because of that failure.
So, why tell on myself, here, in this way? Because this is part of what it means to be a care provider. You lose your temper. You scream, you shout, you act in mean and petty ways. You will lose your temper, or your sanity, now and again. And if you are to be effective as a care giver, you then have to catch your breath, forgive yourself, and get on with the task at hand. None of us are saints. We're all frail, fallible human beings. You have to accept that, if you have any hope of getting through this. Because you can't just take the day off to go relax, or turn this project over to someone else. You have to deal with your own outburst, then get over it as best you can. You have to keep going, whether you want to or not, whether you feel fear, or exhaustion, or shame.
Jim Downey
(Cross posted to my blog.)
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I put my foot through the wall yesterday.
My Alzheimer's victim is a year younger (89), but my mother can hold a thought all of twenty seconds. After you've explained something - uselessly - for the tenth time in half an hour and tried being beyond patient, beyond kind, and beyond your own emotions, you yell. I find it interesting that sometimes when I yell it's the only time that she seems to know who I am. Interesting and ironic that I'm the caregiver because for 30 years we couldn't be in the same room without yelling at each other. I spent most of my adult life 2,900 miles away from her, until she started forgetting her very fundamentalist religious beliefs and my father had his first stroke. Dad's been gone two years and my mother is this sweet old lady now that religion has been expunged. Sweet, yet incapable of any rational thought process; the disconnect is total. Patience, patience, patience, foot through wall.
Ain't it the truth.
George, thanks. I know you're fighting the same fight, and so I seldom bug you about what fantastic new thing you undoubtedly have cooking - though I'm really glad to hear of the new book! You've got it dead-on with the final sentence:
Jim Downey
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Like Science Fiction? Read my novel, Communion of Dreams, for free.
Thank you
for sharing Jim, we are all improved by the reminder none of us 'are saints', and there is no shame in admitting it publicly. I think most of us act in ways that we regret or feel ashamed about after cooler heads prevail--I won't deny it.
ML beat me to the first thing that crossed my mind reading your post, you are certainly not a failure--fear for her death, yes that's understandable and acceptable, but you have done all you can and more to prolong her life, so no beating yourself up.
And as for the venting, hey, am I dating myself by thinking of that old folk song (by who? Chris Smithers?) about the 'true story' of the sinking of the Titanic--"Cap'n, Ya gotta let it out!"
mike keers
Further reading...
Thanks, emkay. I don't *really* feel like a failure...and yet I do. Hard to explain.
Sorry, I don't recognize the old folk song. Reference?
For further reading, or at least to see some of the things that others said, you might want to look at the discussion this generated over on dKos.
Jim Downey
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Like Science Fiction? Read my novel, Communion of Dreams, for free.
Sorry
for the thread drift. The expression 'Ya gotta let it out Cap'n! is my stock answer when people vent and rant, then apologize. In its original context it actually has no relevance to the situation at hand, but I find it amusing, knowing the original context. Like so much else from the sixties, 'Ya hadda be there'.
The expression is from the song 'Legend of the USS Titanic' a long and rambling song by Jaime Brockett (and possibly also recorded by Chris Smither) contemporaneous and in a similar vein to Arlo Guthrie's 'Alice's Restaurant'.
The tongue in cheek premise, to cut the 16 minute song to the basics, is that the first mate gets the captain to take a few puffs of the herb (smokin' Mexican rope), and advises him it works better if he holds his breath; narrator then goes for a stroll around the boat. The song follows his progress around and up and down exploring the ship and going about his business for maybe five minutes (song time), the captain forgotten. When the narrator comes across the captain again he is red faced and near exploding from holding his breath for like an hour--the mate cries out 'Ya gotta let it out Cap'n!, and he explosively exhales and passes out cold on the deck.
The song follows the further adventures of narrator and captain. It was the captain's experience with getting high that was the ultimate cause of the ship hitting the iceberg (in the song). Sounds kinda lame just reciting it like this, but forty years ago and a bit high ourselves, (my name is Mike and I DID inhale...) hearing the song and imagining the visuals--well, ya hadda be there.
Google is my friend, here are the lyrics, FWIW--kinda loses something on the printed page.
http://www.rkdn.org/titanic%20lyrics.htm
Been there...
Heh. OK, understood. My adolescence and early adulthood were likewise 'interesting adventures in alternate perceptions of reality', not to put too fine a point on it. Thanks for the explanation and link!
Jim Downey
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Like Science Fiction? Read my novel, Communion of Dreams, for free.
*hugs*
Very nice post. I don't think people realize just how difficult it can be to provide care for someone who has a chronic illness. Thank you for reminding me that I need to go give my husband a kiss and a "thank you".
A very atheistic
"bless you", Pmomma!
Jim Downey
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Like Science Fiction? Read my novel, Communion of Dreams, for free.
Life is a losing proposition
Or to quote Bugs Bunny: "Don't take life too seriously; you'll never get out of it alive."
Your're not a failure as a caretaker because a 90-year-old woman is dying. Death is a natural part of life. It's inevitable. For some of it death comes sooner; for some of us, it comes later. Since you have extended your MIL's life by several years, I would say that you are being very successful as a caretaker. Keeping someone alive indefinitely is not a job at which anybody can succeed; it's simply impossible.
I'm impressed that you haven't lost your temper at your MIL more often. That appears to be an amazing accomplishment.
...give a little whistle:
Always look on the bright side of life...
Just because I haven't written about it, doesn't mean it hasn't happened. ;)
Jim Downey
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like Science Fiction? Read my novel, Communion of Dreams, for free.