The summer of 2011 is fading fast and autumn is approaching. I actually had to turn on the heat yesterday and left it on all day. And it's raining. We need the rain, but the low grey clouds also are serving to match my mood.
The Ousley household is changing too. Mom, or Wilma as I call her now, is changing. Saturday she did not get out of bed at all, the second time this week. She has been sleeping a lot, most days well into the afternoon, but not getting up at all is a new thing. I talked to the caregiver about it because I was concerned about Wilma sleeping so much, that it might not be good for her, but the caregiver reassured me that if Wilma wants to sleep, at her age (91-plus), let her sleep.
I made the decision to call her Wilma because her personality is changing, not resembling my Mom in the least. And although this may sound harsh, it's a way to detach myself from her and allow my greiving to continue.
Wilma is changing in other ways too. She is more irritable. Friday was a very hard day. The caregiver got Wilma up at noon when she came and Wilma was not happy after that. I fixed her breakfast and then she was restless, she wouldn't sit still. She went outside a few times with the dog. Later, when I had dinner ready, she put on her coat and said she wanted to go home. I tried to convince her she was home, but she went out the door anyway. I followed her out and had to block her from getting off the front porch. When I finally got her in the house, I locked the screen door and she couldn't get out. She ate a little dinner and then sat in her chair and watched TV. At about 9:30 p.m., I asked if she wanted to go to bed. Again she said she wanted to go home and again I told her she was home and guided her to her bedroom. She said she wished she could kill me. As I was helping her put on her pajamas, she lost her balance and fell. It was just kind of a slow-motion topple. She landed on the soft carpet close to her bed. Thank God for the caregiving classes I took, because I didn't panic, I just followed the steps I was taught.
I asked Wilma if she was all right. I tried to lift her, but I couldn't. I scooted a rocking chair over to her so she could grab the seat and maneuver herself up. But that particular chair proved to be too high. I tried to get her on the bed, but that didn't work either. Then I remembered her small chair in her bathroom. I set it next to her and she managed to lift herself up and then slowly stand up. We got the rest of her pajamas on and she went to bed. As I was leaving her bedside, Wilma grabbed my hand and held on. She didn't say anything, just held on.
After I left her, I panicked and just started freaking out. I am surprised at how fragile and weak Wilma has become. I went over the scenario in my head a hundred times to see if I could've done anything differently. The only thing I could think of was asking if she was dizzy. Otherwise I followed all the steps exactly the way I was taught.
And the whole incident got me thinking. Does Wilma want to die? Does she think if she stays in bed long enough that she will close her eyes and go to sleep and never wake up? I know she is unhappy. And I still pray that God takes her soon. But it also made me think about living without her. My life has been pretty much devoted to Mom the last several years. What do I do when she's gone? Where will I go? What will I do?
Only my God knows and I must trust His infinite wisdom.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Getting Ready for the Inevitable
Something is going on with Mom. I don't know exactly what it is, but something is happening.
Sunday, I decided to wash Mom's sheets and blankets. It took almost all day, by the time she got up, but I got it all done and was so heartened to have everything clean for her - clean pajamas, clean sheets, clean blankets. Her bed was so clean and fresh smelling - I almost wish I had a clothesline to hang the sheets in the bright sunshine we're having now.
But when Sunday night came, Mom refused to get into bed. She came to me after we had gotten her pajamas on and said she couldn't use it. I asked her what she meant and she repeated her statement so I asked her to show me. In her bedroom, Mom stopped by her bed and pointed to it. "I can't use this," she said. I asked her why and she said "It's wet." I felt the sheets and of course they were not wet, but Mom had it stuck in her mind that since I had washed them, they were wet. She absolutely refused to get into bed, so finally, after about a half hour of arguing with her, I pulled the comforter over the sheets and blankets, got her another blanket and said she could sleep on that.
Monday was just another day, no big deal, Mom slept until about noon that day I think.
Tuesday, though, Mom wouldn't get up. I kept checking on her and finally she got up and was dressed before I knew it, about 3:30 p.m. I thought it was odd that she got up without saying anything or coming into the kitchen to see what I was up to. My answer came Tuesday evening when I was helping her get ready for bed about 10 p.m. and asked where her pajama bottoms were. Mom pointed to the bed, so I pulled back the sheets and there was poop all over her bottom sheet. I couldn't change the bed then, so I left Mom's jeans on her, put a big towel over the poop and got her into bed. After she was in bed, I discovered her pajama bottoms that were poopy too. But I didn't see poop anywhere else. I didn't know what her disposable panties looked like and I am such a wimp, I didn't want to know. I just thought Mom would be okay until I could change her bed the next day.
Today, Mom slept and slept. I checked on her once or twice an hour to make sure she was okay. She was sound asleep all day. Finally, I got her up about 5 p.m. because her caregiver was scheduled to come at 7 p.m. I took off the dirty sheets and washed them right away as I fed Mom something to eat. She's not eating well and will only eat bread, meat and potatoes. And it seems to me like she's having trouble swallowing. This evening, I gave her toast with butter and jam and a couple of glasses of milk. I had to coax her to eat all her toast. After she had showered and the caregiver left, I also had her eat a small ice cream sundae.
Mom looks so frail, moreso than I've noticed before. Her clothing is not fitting well because I think she's losing more weight. She cannot make any sentence make sense, which frustrates her IF she notices it.
I am just really getting the feeling that God is preparing her to leave us. Mom left me a long time ago, but physically she is still here. I think God is preparing me too, for when Mom leaves. I've got the contact list all done and in a notebook. I'm going to clean out her closet so we can donate some of her clothes. I can't really explain it well, but I have this feeling, not a scary feeling, almost a peaceful one, that Mom will leave soon. Now, God's time certainly isn't my time, so when I say soon, I'm thinking in the next couple of months. God's time might be the next couple of years, but somehow I don't think so.
And I'm so happy for Mom when she does leave us. She will be with Grandma Dora and Grandpa John, she'll see all her dear friends who she misses so much and she will be free of this awful disease that took her from me. I am so blessed to have had my Mom all this time, to have had her as my best friend, to have had her as my Rock (along with God). I miss her so much.
Thank you, my God, for letting me have Mom as long as I did. And I thank you for every day that I still have her. I pray, my Father, that you cradle her in Your Loving Arms and take her Home soon. Amen.
Sunday, I decided to wash Mom's sheets and blankets. It took almost all day, by the time she got up, but I got it all done and was so heartened to have everything clean for her - clean pajamas, clean sheets, clean blankets. Her bed was so clean and fresh smelling - I almost wish I had a clothesline to hang the sheets in the bright sunshine we're having now.
But when Sunday night came, Mom refused to get into bed. She came to me after we had gotten her pajamas on and said she couldn't use it. I asked her what she meant and she repeated her statement so I asked her to show me. In her bedroom, Mom stopped by her bed and pointed to it. "I can't use this," she said. I asked her why and she said "It's wet." I felt the sheets and of course they were not wet, but Mom had it stuck in her mind that since I had washed them, they were wet. She absolutely refused to get into bed, so finally, after about a half hour of arguing with her, I pulled the comforter over the sheets and blankets, got her another blanket and said she could sleep on that.
Monday was just another day, no big deal, Mom slept until about noon that day I think.
Tuesday, though, Mom wouldn't get up. I kept checking on her and finally she got up and was dressed before I knew it, about 3:30 p.m. I thought it was odd that she got up without saying anything or coming into the kitchen to see what I was up to. My answer came Tuesday evening when I was helping her get ready for bed about 10 p.m. and asked where her pajama bottoms were. Mom pointed to the bed, so I pulled back the sheets and there was poop all over her bottom sheet. I couldn't change the bed then, so I left Mom's jeans on her, put a big towel over the poop and got her into bed. After she was in bed, I discovered her pajama bottoms that were poopy too. But I didn't see poop anywhere else. I didn't know what her disposable panties looked like and I am such a wimp, I didn't want to know. I just thought Mom would be okay until I could change her bed the next day.
Today, Mom slept and slept. I checked on her once or twice an hour to make sure she was okay. She was sound asleep all day. Finally, I got her up about 5 p.m. because her caregiver was scheduled to come at 7 p.m. I took off the dirty sheets and washed them right away as I fed Mom something to eat. She's not eating well and will only eat bread, meat and potatoes. And it seems to me like she's having trouble swallowing. This evening, I gave her toast with butter and jam and a couple of glasses of milk. I had to coax her to eat all her toast. After she had showered and the caregiver left, I also had her eat a small ice cream sundae.
Mom looks so frail, moreso than I've noticed before. Her clothing is not fitting well because I think she's losing more weight. She cannot make any sentence make sense, which frustrates her IF she notices it.
I am just really getting the feeling that God is preparing her to leave us. Mom left me a long time ago, but physically she is still here. I think God is preparing me too, for when Mom leaves. I've got the contact list all done and in a notebook. I'm going to clean out her closet so we can donate some of her clothes. I can't really explain it well, but I have this feeling, not a scary feeling, almost a peaceful one, that Mom will leave soon. Now, God's time certainly isn't my time, so when I say soon, I'm thinking in the next couple of months. God's time might be the next couple of years, but somehow I don't think so.
And I'm so happy for Mom when she does leave us. She will be with Grandma Dora and Grandpa John, she'll see all her dear friends who she misses so much and she will be free of this awful disease that took her from me. I am so blessed to have had my Mom all this time, to have had her as my best friend, to have had her as my Rock (along with God). I miss her so much.
Thank you, my God, for letting me have Mom as long as I did. And I thank you for every day that I still have her. I pray, my Father, that you cradle her in Your Loving Arms and take her Home soon. Amen.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Mom's Checklist
Mom is changing so fast.
She is changing physically, losing weight, not seeing well with her glasses. She seems to be getting smaller each day. And of course the Alzheimer's is making her change.
The so-called experts of Alzheimer's have broken down the disease into five stages. Mom is fast approaching the last stage.
She is wandering more, getting restless. Sometimes her feet shake and she kind of stomps them. She can barely handle drying the dishes and can't put them away most of the time. The other night, when her caregiver was here, Mom began crying because she couldn't remember where the dishes went. She can't put silverware back in the drawer. I can't figure out why because that should be one of the simplest tasks. Just put the forks where the other forks are, the knives where the other knives are, etc., right? But she can't do that, and forks are mixed with the spoons and knives are with the forks ... It's always an adventure to pull out the silverware drawer and see where things are.
As these changes occur, it's like there's a checklist going off in the back of my mind. Wandering, check. Restlessness, check. Crying, check. Not being able to communicate, check. And the checklist goes on.
As I go through the checklist, it makes me sad and mad at the same time. I can't do a damned thing about it. And I hate what this is doing to this strong, independent woman. And I know the end is coming.
Alzheimer's takes all logic away. Things that are very logical to me, such as putting a shirt over your head to get it on, are not to Mom. She tries to put underwear over her head. Even with tags on the back of her clothes, she can't figure out which is the front and which is the back. She can't figure out where the garbage goes.
So as these changes occur, the checklist keeps getting longer. I hope some day very soon, I can stop checking things off and that my real Mom will find peace and happiness.
She is changing physically, losing weight, not seeing well with her glasses. She seems to be getting smaller each day. And of course the Alzheimer's is making her change.
The so-called experts of Alzheimer's have broken down the disease into five stages. Mom is fast approaching the last stage.
She is wandering more, getting restless. Sometimes her feet shake and she kind of stomps them. She can barely handle drying the dishes and can't put them away most of the time. The other night, when her caregiver was here, Mom began crying because she couldn't remember where the dishes went. She can't put silverware back in the drawer. I can't figure out why because that should be one of the simplest tasks. Just put the forks where the other forks are, the knives where the other knives are, etc., right? But she can't do that, and forks are mixed with the spoons and knives are with the forks ... It's always an adventure to pull out the silverware drawer and see where things are.
As these changes occur, it's like there's a checklist going off in the back of my mind. Wandering, check. Restlessness, check. Crying, check. Not being able to communicate, check. And the checklist goes on.
As I go through the checklist, it makes me sad and mad at the same time. I can't do a damned thing about it. And I hate what this is doing to this strong, independent woman. And I know the end is coming.
Alzheimer's takes all logic away. Things that are very logical to me, such as putting a shirt over your head to get it on, are not to Mom. She tries to put underwear over her head. Even with tags on the back of her clothes, she can't figure out which is the front and which is the back. She can't figure out where the garbage goes.
So as these changes occur, the checklist keeps getting longer. I hope some day very soon, I can stop checking things off and that my real Mom will find peace and happiness.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Making the list
God is so good to me.
Since coming home from my college reunion in mid-July, it seems to me like this Mom I'm taking care of is slipping away day after day, not only mentally but physically.
She is losing weight. Her body seems to be drawing itself inward. It's hard to describe, it might be the osteoporosis, but not only is Mom hunching over, which is typical osteoporosis, it seems like her shoulders are shrugging forward. Her appetite is not the same - she's not eating her usual oatmeal like she used to. I've added bananas, and cinnamon and sugar, to change the flavor somewhat, but she still is not eating it. She's drinking her milk every morning and eating just one piece of toast instead of her usual two pieces. And supper is getting to be a real challenge. Unless it's plain meat and potatoes, or a hamburger with bacon and cheese on it, she absolutely will not eat. I am watching her carefully as she eats, because sometimes I think it's hard for her to swallow. More and more often, she forgets how to take her pills.
Mentally, she is barely able to communicate at all. She cannot describe things, she can't tell how she feels and if she hurts somewhere, it's a real guessing game about exactly where she's hurting or if she really is. She is getting more stubborn and argues with me more often. She has a thing about wearing panties now and I really have to watch her to make sure she's got some on, because sometimes after going to the bathroom, she takes them off and just puts her jeans or pajamas back on.
She doesn't know the next door neighbor any more and I'm still not sure she knows me. She has begun wanting to go outside, especially in the afternoons, and imagines there are children outside she needs to take care of or someone down the street she must see or a store she must go to.
Even though I've lost my Mom a while ago, this physical Mom is fading fast and I'm just getting the feeling that I won't have her around too much longer. Now, in God's time, that might be a year or two, or even longer than that, but I really feel like He is preparing me for when Mom leaves me for good.
One of those preparations is making a list.
I am a list-making machine. I make lists for grocery shopping, I make lists when I go on errands, I make lists of daily chores, I make lists for any trips I take. Now I must make another list.
When something happens to Mom (I used to say "if" something happens to Mom), I'll have to make phone calls, hopefully from here at home. My sincere prayer is that I will walk in Mom's bedroom one morning and she will be gone. And it occurred to me last night that I should start making a list of people I need to call when something happens to Mom. I know that this is God working in my life. When something does happen, I know I will not have the power to think, let alone contact people, but with my list, I won't have to think, I can just go down the list of names.
So today, I am beginning my list, trying to be prepared for when I won't have Mom any longer. It's not going to be an easy list to make, but it's a necessary one.
Since coming home from my college reunion in mid-July, it seems to me like this Mom I'm taking care of is slipping away day after day, not only mentally but physically.
She is losing weight. Her body seems to be drawing itself inward. It's hard to describe, it might be the osteoporosis, but not only is Mom hunching over, which is typical osteoporosis, it seems like her shoulders are shrugging forward. Her appetite is not the same - she's not eating her usual oatmeal like she used to. I've added bananas, and cinnamon and sugar, to change the flavor somewhat, but she still is not eating it. She's drinking her milk every morning and eating just one piece of toast instead of her usual two pieces. And supper is getting to be a real challenge. Unless it's plain meat and potatoes, or a hamburger with bacon and cheese on it, she absolutely will not eat. I am watching her carefully as she eats, because sometimes I think it's hard for her to swallow. More and more often, she forgets how to take her pills.
Mentally, she is barely able to communicate at all. She cannot describe things, she can't tell how she feels and if she hurts somewhere, it's a real guessing game about exactly where she's hurting or if she really is. She is getting more stubborn and argues with me more often. She has a thing about wearing panties now and I really have to watch her to make sure she's got some on, because sometimes after going to the bathroom, she takes them off and just puts her jeans or pajamas back on.
She doesn't know the next door neighbor any more and I'm still not sure she knows me. She has begun wanting to go outside, especially in the afternoons, and imagines there are children outside she needs to take care of or someone down the street she must see or a store she must go to.
Even though I've lost my Mom a while ago, this physical Mom is fading fast and I'm just getting the feeling that I won't have her around too much longer. Now, in God's time, that might be a year or two, or even longer than that, but I really feel like He is preparing me for when Mom leaves me for good.
One of those preparations is making a list.
I am a list-making machine. I make lists for grocery shopping, I make lists when I go on errands, I make lists of daily chores, I make lists for any trips I take. Now I must make another list.
When something happens to Mom (I used to say "if" something happens to Mom), I'll have to make phone calls, hopefully from here at home. My sincere prayer is that I will walk in Mom's bedroom one morning and she will be gone. And it occurred to me last night that I should start making a list of people I need to call when something happens to Mom. I know that this is God working in my life. When something does happen, I know I will not have the power to think, let alone contact people, but with my list, I won't have to think, I can just go down the list of names.
So today, I am beginning my list, trying to be prepared for when I won't have Mom any longer. It's not going to be an easy list to make, but it's a necessary one.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Mom didn't know me
I finally got to take a real vacation, but after five days of not being with Mom, when I got home, Mom didn't know me.
The main event of my vacation was my college reunion and it was wonderful. Renewing friendships, talking about our pasts, planning for the future, promising to keep in touch was a part of the event. Fort Wright College is still as beautiful as I remember and the dorm, former officers' quarters when it actually was a fort, where we held the reunion was very well maintained. Floods of memories came rushing back. Even the priest, Father Sev, was there with us, delighting us with his laugh, his wise words during Sunday Mass, and the ever-present smell of his pipe tobacco. Mass was held just outside the dorm Sunday morning. As we listened to Father, birds flew by and chirped, chipmunks and squirrels played among the trees. It was perfect and I treasured every word. It touched my heart so that I cried.
So after a weekend of college reunion, I dropped a buddy off at the Spokane airport and drove south to Colfax. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, but I soon had to turn on the air conditioning. When I arrived in Colfax, it was 95 degrees. I was able to check into my motel room, and I freshened up a bit before going to a high school classmate's house where we had a mini-reunion. Lynn Zaring Knott, Nancy Hull Carroll, Elaine Morris McClintock and I gathered at Elaine's house and ate and laughed and visited for more than two hours. It was so good to see them all. Then I went to a dear friend's house, Debi Kennedy Anderson, and stayed there for more than two hours talking the whole time, and then we met more friends, Dan and Susan Hopkins, their daughter, Toni Jo, her fiance David, Dan's dad, Homer and his friend Lorraine, for supper. What a wonderful day. I feel so blessed to have all these people in my life.
On Monday morning, I went to Debi's house for breakfast and then headed west. I left Colfax about 10 a.m. and arrived home about 6 p.m. It was a pleasant, but long journey home. As I was getting things out of the car, Martha and Mom were standing on the porch with the dogs. I saw Mom talking to Martha, but I couldn't hear what she said. When I started in the house, Martha whispered to me that Mom didn't know me. That just about broke my heart. Mom was quiet during supper and continued to be quiet after Martha left. I tried to act as normal as possible, but it was very difficult.
I knew this day was coming, I just didn't know when. And when it did come, it landed on my heart like a ton of bricks.
How I hate this damned disease.
I put off writing about this because it still is very painful. I still don't know if Mom really knows who I am. I guess I shouldn't have been gone that long. It's been five days since I've been home, each day I've been trying to act as normal as possible. I feel like Mom has been trying to act normal, or at least her normal, too. That's what I think it is, an act. I honestly feel like she doesn't know me and maybe she never will.
I know I lost my Mom a long time ago and this woman I live with now is such a stranger. Although I still call her "Mom," she really isn't. She is a stranger in my Mom's body.
God is so good to me, though. I know He guides me each moment and if I listen to His Whispers, I will get through this. My continued prayer is that the Good Lord cradle Mom in His loving arms and takes her Home soon. Lord, hear my prayer.
The main event of my vacation was my college reunion and it was wonderful. Renewing friendships, talking about our pasts, planning for the future, promising to keep in touch was a part of the event. Fort Wright College is still as beautiful as I remember and the dorm, former officers' quarters when it actually was a fort, where we held the reunion was very well maintained. Floods of memories came rushing back. Even the priest, Father Sev, was there with us, delighting us with his laugh, his wise words during Sunday Mass, and the ever-present smell of his pipe tobacco. Mass was held just outside the dorm Sunday morning. As we listened to Father, birds flew by and chirped, chipmunks and squirrels played among the trees. It was perfect and I treasured every word. It touched my heart so that I cried.
So after a weekend of college reunion, I dropped a buddy off at the Spokane airport and drove south to Colfax. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, but I soon had to turn on the air conditioning. When I arrived in Colfax, it was 95 degrees. I was able to check into my motel room, and I freshened up a bit before going to a high school classmate's house where we had a mini-reunion. Lynn Zaring Knott, Nancy Hull Carroll, Elaine Morris McClintock and I gathered at Elaine's house and ate and laughed and visited for more than two hours. It was so good to see them all. Then I went to a dear friend's house, Debi Kennedy Anderson, and stayed there for more than two hours talking the whole time, and then we met more friends, Dan and Susan Hopkins, their daughter, Toni Jo, her fiance David, Dan's dad, Homer and his friend Lorraine, for supper. What a wonderful day. I feel so blessed to have all these people in my life.
On Monday morning, I went to Debi's house for breakfast and then headed west. I left Colfax about 10 a.m. and arrived home about 6 p.m. It was a pleasant, but long journey home. As I was getting things out of the car, Martha and Mom were standing on the porch with the dogs. I saw Mom talking to Martha, but I couldn't hear what she said. When I started in the house, Martha whispered to me that Mom didn't know me. That just about broke my heart. Mom was quiet during supper and continued to be quiet after Martha left. I tried to act as normal as possible, but it was very difficult.
I knew this day was coming, I just didn't know when. And when it did come, it landed on my heart like a ton of bricks.
How I hate this damned disease.
I put off writing about this because it still is very painful. I still don't know if Mom really knows who I am. I guess I shouldn't have been gone that long. It's been five days since I've been home, each day I've been trying to act as normal as possible. I feel like Mom has been trying to act normal, or at least her normal, too. That's what I think it is, an act. I honestly feel like she doesn't know me and maybe she never will.
I know I lost my Mom a long time ago and this woman I live with now is such a stranger. Although I still call her "Mom," she really isn't. She is a stranger in my Mom's body.
God is so good to me, though. I know He guides me each moment and if I listen to His Whispers, I will get through this. My continued prayer is that the Good Lord cradle Mom in His loving arms and takes her Home soon. Lord, hear my prayer.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Finally getting an income
It's still sinking in.
On Thursday, I got a call that Mom is officially accepted into the state program so that I can begin getting paid as her caregiver. I will actually have an income, something I haven't had since January 2010. I still can't believe it.
When I talked to the social worker who shared the news with me, I couldn't stop crying. I am so thankful. All I can say is, "Praise the Lord!" And I will continually praise His Holy Name.
I can't quite comprehend what this means because I haven't had money for so long. Can I get groceries without counting every penny? Yes! Can I get Mom some new towels? Yes! Can I afford to buy Mom a new blouse and some new shoes? Yes! Can I take Mom out to lunch or an early dinner without it being a burger and fries? Yes! And can we have dessert afterwards? Yes! I can now afford to do so many things, like I said, it's still sinking in.
The stress of not having an income is almost gone from my mind and body. Thank You, Lord.
I will get paid for 84 hours a month at a little more than $10 an hour. Plus I am allowed 60 miles a month to also get paid for. I must complete some classes in the next four months that the state pays for and this program also allows another caregiver to still come and give Mom a shower and wash her hair.
I cannot be more thankful. And simply saying thank you to my God doesn't seem enough. He has blessed me so much. I know I must live my life to please Him.
I initially turned in the paperwork to the state in late March I think, so it has taken this long for the state to approve us. When they first contacted me, they said it might take until spring of next year to get us into the program, so I really wasn't thinking we would be accepted much before then.
But I wasn't really worried. I have been so careful with our money, or at least as careful as I can be. I just knew in my heart that we would be OK. I knew that God is caring for us. And He is.
I love my God. Praise His Holy Name! Oh, but don't stop praying for us. We still need all the prayers we can get!
On Thursday, I got a call that Mom is officially accepted into the state program so that I can begin getting paid as her caregiver. I will actually have an income, something I haven't had since January 2010. I still can't believe it.
When I talked to the social worker who shared the news with me, I couldn't stop crying. I am so thankful. All I can say is, "Praise the Lord!" And I will continually praise His Holy Name.
I can't quite comprehend what this means because I haven't had money for so long. Can I get groceries without counting every penny? Yes! Can I get Mom some new towels? Yes! Can I afford to buy Mom a new blouse and some new shoes? Yes! Can I take Mom out to lunch or an early dinner without it being a burger and fries? Yes! And can we have dessert afterwards? Yes! I can now afford to do so many things, like I said, it's still sinking in.
The stress of not having an income is almost gone from my mind and body. Thank You, Lord.
I will get paid for 84 hours a month at a little more than $10 an hour. Plus I am allowed 60 miles a month to also get paid for. I must complete some classes in the next four months that the state pays for and this program also allows another caregiver to still come and give Mom a shower and wash her hair.
I cannot be more thankful. And simply saying thank you to my God doesn't seem enough. He has blessed me so much. I know I must live my life to please Him.
I initially turned in the paperwork to the state in late March I think, so it has taken this long for the state to approve us. When they first contacted me, they said it might take until spring of next year to get us into the program, so I really wasn't thinking we would be accepted much before then.
But I wasn't really worried. I have been so careful with our money, or at least as careful as I can be. I just knew in my heart that we would be OK. I knew that God is caring for us. And He is.
I love my God. Praise His Holy Name! Oh, but don't stop praying for us. We still need all the prayers we can get!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Burning Out
My counselor believes that I am close to being burned out. I think I'm closer than she knows.
Caring for Mom is so emotionally draining that it's wearing me out physically as well. Thank God I had a break the beginning of June, even if it was just one night away. The trip to Colfax was certainly not a vacation for me and when we returned, I was so worn out I could barely function. It's not that I didn't enjoy being with family and friends (OK, not the family part so much), it was the whole thing of being with Mom and having to do every little thing for her, and her not even really knowing where we were or what we were doing.
Now that the weather is nice, going outside helps, but I can't stay outside very long because I never know what Mom is doing. And it's difficult for me to go outside in the morning because I never know when Mom is getting up.
I am now looking forward to a real vacation when I go to Spokane in a couple of weeks to attend my college reunion. I will be gone five wonderful days and I won't have to pack for anyone else and I won't have to worry if anyone else is having a good time. I know I will. It's a much needed break.
Martha is going to stay with Mom and I think she is in for a really big awakening. She's getting little bits and pieces of how bad Mom really is when Martha visits. The last time Martha was here, Mom asked her a couple of times about her children. Martha kept trying to dodge Mom with talking about her students, but Mom insisted that Martha had her own children and she wanted to know how they were doing. Martha still thinks that Mom has "visions," even though I've tried to explain to her that Mom is hallucinating, now even more as she declines. But I think that's Martha's way of dealing with Mom's symptoms.
My counselor thinks it would be a good idea for me to have an overnight break at least once a month, if not more than that. When I return from Spokane, I'll talk to Martha about it. I hope she goes along with the idea, because I really need it.
I woke up one recent morning and thought, "I really don't want to do this any more." I want to care for Mom, but I'm just getting so doggone tired, and emotionally drained.
So I ask for your prayers for strength and may my God give me strength. Amen.
Caring for Mom is so emotionally draining that it's wearing me out physically as well. Thank God I had a break the beginning of June, even if it was just one night away. The trip to Colfax was certainly not a vacation for me and when we returned, I was so worn out I could barely function. It's not that I didn't enjoy being with family and friends (OK, not the family part so much), it was the whole thing of being with Mom and having to do every little thing for her, and her not even really knowing where we were or what we were doing.
Now that the weather is nice, going outside helps, but I can't stay outside very long because I never know what Mom is doing. And it's difficult for me to go outside in the morning because I never know when Mom is getting up.
I am now looking forward to a real vacation when I go to Spokane in a couple of weeks to attend my college reunion. I will be gone five wonderful days and I won't have to pack for anyone else and I won't have to worry if anyone else is having a good time. I know I will. It's a much needed break.
Martha is going to stay with Mom and I think she is in for a really big awakening. She's getting little bits and pieces of how bad Mom really is when Martha visits. The last time Martha was here, Mom asked her a couple of times about her children. Martha kept trying to dodge Mom with talking about her students, but Mom insisted that Martha had her own children and she wanted to know how they were doing. Martha still thinks that Mom has "visions," even though I've tried to explain to her that Mom is hallucinating, now even more as she declines. But I think that's Martha's way of dealing with Mom's symptoms.
My counselor thinks it would be a good idea for me to have an overnight break at least once a month, if not more than that. When I return from Spokane, I'll talk to Martha about it. I hope she goes along with the idea, because I really need it.
I woke up one recent morning and thought, "I really don't want to do this any more." I want to care for Mom, but I'm just getting so doggone tired, and emotionally drained.
So I ask for your prayers for strength and may my God give me strength. Amen.
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