I AM GRATEFUL!

 

When you step into a caregiving role, there are so many things that change in your life. The "new" newness requires plans for everything and so many things that need to be put in place. As the sole caregiver, one thing I never thought about, nor prepared for was, what if I get sick and land in the hospital?

I was prepared if she got sick, but not for myself.

If she gets sick, I know I will pack a bag and grab my laptop and be with her. Sammi Kay will go with friends.

I am so grateful for knowing what will happen if she gets sick.

But, I wasn't prepared for a situation with me.

Last Sunday morning, around 4:00 in the morning, I woke with what I'll call charley horses in my heart. I didn't fully wake up and wasn't convinced it wasn't a dream. It lasted a few minutes and I went back to sleep.

I missed the alarm for church. I was simply exhausted. I woke up around 9:30am.

I rested all day.

We were invited to Tyler and Heathers for dinner. So we went.... in our PJs.

We had dinner, and not much after dinner, mom had accident. I was frustrated. She was embarrassed and it caused Tyler and Heather to have to have a conversation with their kids on why GG pooped her pants. And answer the question....why did it come out of her pants?

I cleaned mom up, we went home and got her in the shower.

I was grateful for a meal I didn't have to prepare.

On Monday, I was extremely tired. Checked my blood pressure. It was normal for me. So I rested and took it easy for the day.

Tuesday rolled in and I was still tired. I didn't feel good and had some pressure across my shoulder blades. I just couldn't put my finger on why I didn't feel good and why I was so tired. I was sure it was my blood pressure but the numbers on the monitor said it wasn't. 

I texted a friend from church and asked if he would be available to sit with mom if I could get in the see my doctor tomorrow after her appointment. He said yes.

I am grateful he said yes.

Wednesday morning, I woke again with charley horses in my heart. My shoulder blades felt like I had done a huge lift and my tummy was not in a happy place.

I couldn't focus on me. I needed to focus on mom. Get her up and get her to an appointment with an orthopedic doctor for pain management and to talk about her knees, which always hurt so bad. Her appt was at 8:00am.

We completed her appointment with a game plan for her knees and then we headed home. (Man, I feel rough). I am grateful we have a plan for her knees.

Shortly after arriving home, my friend arrives and I leave. I've decided to go to the ER because I'm not so sure I'm not having or have had a heart attack. Is it where I want to go? No. But my gut tells me that's where I need to go. So, I did.

The hospital wasted no time in getting things in order and rolling to get me checked out. EKG. Bloodwork. CTscan. (Man, I had hospitals but I am grateful they didn't play around.)

My bloodwork was abnormal. My heart enzymes were elevated. The doctor decides to admit me.

HELLLOOOOOOO CHAOS and STRESS! 

What am I going to do with mom? 

What will she say? 

What will she do? 

How will she handle me not coming home?

I try coordinating people and things and, and, and, and....my blood pressure skyrockets. I have to say hard words to my family... "Figure it out. I can't do this right now."

I'm taken upstairs to a semi room. No door. Just a curtain.

When the doctor comes in I had just hung up with mom. I was in tears. I could hear the distress in her voice.

We (the doctor and me) talk about how I recently became the sole-caregiver and get little time off. She listens, never taking her eyes off me. Tears streaming down my face because I'm more worried about how my momma will handle the evening then if I have a heart attack or stroke out.

Dr. Jamie says, "You're stressed and exhausted. I'm going to give you a cocktail of meds to calm you down. You'll have another EKG in the morning and a nuclear stress test around 7:00am." and.... she ordered that cocktail and knocked me out.

They moved me to a room in the back corner.

There was no beeping machine like you typically hear. No lights on. Just me, my IV, heart monitor leads and a BP cuff. The nurse ran my blood pressure, recorded it and then took off the cuff and said she'd be back in a few hours.

I am so grateful for this room. It's cool, dark and quiet.

I'm not sure if she ever came back. At 4:00am on Thursday, I wake to a male nurse coming in for another EKG. Then I was wheeled down to look for blood clots in my legs. I had an abnormal blood test that had them feel I could have a blood clot.

A few hours pass and I was rolled down for a nuclear stress test. That test took almost 3 hours. Wore me out!

All tests came back normal. No answers on why my enzymes were elevated or why the other test was abnormal. Doctors are chucking it up to stress and exhaustion.

I'm released. I am grateful! I'm headed home.

I'm not sure who was happier to see me when I walked in the door. My momma or my daughter-in-love.

Mom and I got to bed early that night and we both rested well.

I honestly don't remember much of Friday. I slept til almost 11:00am. The rest of the day was just a bit of a blur. I laid on the couch watching tv with mom and we went to bed rather early again.

It's now 8:30 on Saturday night.

Today, guys showed up from church to fill holes dug by a previous tenants dog.

Such a blessing to us. Now Sammi Kay and run, the grands can play and mom can walk in the yard without me stressing over one of them getting hurt from a hole. 

I am so incredible grateful for these fine fellas from my church.

The rest of the day was rather chill. Dinner served.

I'm tired, but feeling much better.

I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I hear mom getting up saying she has to go to the bathroom. She comes in the kitchen asking what I'm getting as a treat. She is so food oriented. I tell her nothing and show her I'm washing dishes.

I tell her to go to the bathroom before she has an accident and I have to mop again.

She looks at me and does a childlike raspberry. Then, she totally caught me off guard.....she spat at me. Praise Jesus she missed. She goes down the hall laughing at my reaction.

I yell, "It's not funny! DO NOT come back down this hall. GO TO BED! Go to your room. Watch tv, whatever! I don't want to see you!!!!"

Like a child, she uses the bathroom and goes to her room.  I was pissed....and she knew it! I am grateful she knew!

I can handle cleaning up urine and feces. Do I like it? No. I gag my brains out every single time!!

I will not handle being spat at or on. This is where I will draw the line.

I still have to take her her night meds. I really don't want to see her. But I know she needs those meds. So, in her room I go.

I tell her I'm not happy with her and she looks at me and simply says, "Why?"

She either truly doesn't remember the incident or she's onehellofa actress.

I am grateful. I give her meds, kiss her forehead and tell her goodnight.

Here I sit. Blogging. 

This is hard....but I am grateful I get to do this for her. (Oh my...did I just seriously say that?)

Please Lord, let her forget how to spit. That's a sure ride to a nursing home. Because I am grateful I know where my boundary line is drawn.

Go to sleep!

When mom was living in the assisted living facility, she was up all night and slept all day. No one cared.

She had somehow convinced herself and them that she worked 3rd shift and needed to sleep all day and worked at night. This wasn't true.

She did go in around 4am, but she didn't work all night.

When she came to live with me, it was a nightmare!!!

She wanted to watch tv all night and sleep all day and I just couldn't. I was not about to sleep knowing she was awake and possibly into things.... like the fridge!

I can't trust that she won't go out the front door. Or try to cook. Or who knows what!!!

It was a nightly battle. And I became a raging witch. Lack of sleep makes me a very unpleasant person.

When we moved into our home, our internet boxes were updated. I now had an app on my phone. HA! Here me when I say I do very little from my phone. Text and talk....that's it.

For the first month our internet was bonkers. No service. Little service. Lagging service. The service provider would say it was looking ok on their end but I couldn't keep connection. I can't tell you how many times I called to complain. Sometimes spending hours on the phone trying everything they told me to try.

One night, late, I had to call again. Our tv's weren't working. It was a night I decided I wanted to binge watch tv and it was a fail! So I called to complain once again.

This time I was heard!!

Her response was "I'm so sorry. I believe you have a defective router. Let me ship a new one." I responded, "No. I will return this to the store in the morning. I can't wait 2 days for shipping."

The next day I was off to the store. Router exchanged. All set up and working!

WOOHOOO we have working internet.

The best part of the day was when my caregiver asked if I knew I could 'pause' moms tv through the app. "Uhmmmm, excuse me...what???? Nooooooo!!! Tell me more!"

Show she showed me how. Sweet mother of God that's the best thing since fresh baked bread from the oven, sliced with a dallop of butter on top!

Ya'll.... I have never been so happy.

Tonight makes two (2) weeks of night-time peace. Moms typically in bed by 9 watching her tv. Her tv somehow messes up every night. I'm not sure how... maybe she's hitting something wrong. I'll check it in the morning.

Between new sleep medication for her and me pushing a button on my phone to 'pause' her wifi service in her room every night around 11pm, this caregiver is getting some much needed sleep.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

~bo

Lock Down.

(I started writing this on Sept 28th)

Oh the craziness that happens up in this house!!!

Mom doesn't stop eating.

Some is boredom. Some is because she doesn't remember she ate. Some is simply because she loves and wants ice cream!

Maybe I blogged this a while back...ha!...I don't remember. 

My momma loves ice cream. LOVES IT!

So, a couple weeks ago I bought all the fixin's to make banana splits. Ice cream, bananas, hot fudge, caramel sauce, cool whip, chopped nuts. Go big or go home!

I made her an extra large banana split. Seriously, extra large!!! I went back to the kitchen to make myself a banana split and before I could get in the living room to sit down and eat mine with her, hers was gone. G.O.N.E.

Out of her mouth came, "I want another one."

"Mom, you can't have another. I made you an extra large one and that was a lot that you just ate.", I replied. She instantly became frustrated and said, "Make me another one!!" I went to the kitchen and piddled around hoping she would forget. She didn't. She was all about that ice cream.

She gets up and went in the kitchen and got herself more ice cream. I was not happy. She ate her ice ream and then we headed to our rooms for the night. I was frustrated to say the least.

At some point in the middle of the night, she helped herself to more!!! She ate the entire 1/2 gallon of ice cream, except for about 2 spoonfuls, the entire jar of hot fudge, 6-7 bananas, and half a bottle of caramel sauce.

In my best Charlie Brown voice, "UUGHHHHHHH."

(I started to write this last week and just couldnt finish......)Yesterday, or the past 36 hours, I will say have been the hardest. Not because she's doing anything more, but because I'm simply beyond exhausted. (Today is Tuesday).

For the past year I have been trying to get myself on a routine of going to bed at a decent hour. Working in direct sales for many years and guiding a large team, I had a horrible habit of working til 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. In stepping away from direct sales, I've worked on trying to shut my brain down and getting more rest.

I have an alarm on my phone that chimes at 9:20pm. That's my signal to turn off the computer and electronics and position myself for rest. I head to bed. I might watch tv, listen to a book, or just lay and love on Sammi Kay.

There had been a few instances where mom was in the kitchen late at night, eating. Maybe it was leftovers. Maybe not. One night she ate a container of sour cream and an entire jar of pickles. There's no explanation of what she might eat from the fridge.

Sunday evening, my phone chimed. My kitchen was still a disaster and it needed to be put to bed (cleaned up) before I could venture down the hall to the comfort of my bed. Putting my kitchen to bed means to clean it up. In honesty, I was a queen of leaving it until the morning. Heck, who am I kidding...before I became the caregiver of my momma, sometimes, it might be days before it got cleaned up. But that's a whole other blog!

To wake up to lights on in the hallway, I know she's into something in the kitchen.

I will be the first to raise my hand and confess...there is likely something in a bowl that is growing some sort of fungus on it, in my fridge. If mom has her way---she'll eat it. She has no clue what's in a bowl.

She's heated stuff in the microwave, but turned the stove on and left it on. My brain hurts from thinking how I will keep her out of the kitchen.

Someone told me to lock down my kitchen. Locks on everything.

I FEEL SO BAD!!!!!!

This is what I know.... if she has gotten up in the middle of the night and gone to the kitchen to snack, she hasnt gotten the cabinet or the fridge opened. Every thing has locks. It all gets locked when I got to bed.

I will say this.....

it's stopped my midnight munching. I don't want to fumble for the key to the fridge or the magnet to the cabinets.

~bo