Today Is Not That Day

If you don't know what a rollator is, you are either not old enough yet or you're probably not a caretaker. I fit into the latter group. Those who are also caretakers understand just what a challenge it is.  In my case, we do it by phone. We live 300 miles apart.

 

I think I've got it down to a science now, even though all science pays big respect to the notion of randomness. And there are lots of things that even science cannot predict.

At least I know to phone my mom between noon and 12:30 every day- sometimes even in the middle of a doctor's appointment - because that's when she's waking up. Not from her nap but from her night's sleep. Getting her up and to eat is a delicate maneuver.

"Why is she sleeping so much?" people ask. The easy answer is "That's her disease." But I"m not sure really what disease she has, other than one symptom is she sleeps an awful lot. Whatever disease she has, this is what it does.

I'm not sure what disease she has because the doctors say it's one thing but none of us believe, even 4 years later, that that's what she really has.  Like Alzheimer's.  They don't really know if you have it until you die and they look at your brain and even the they don't really know because many people with a so-called "Alzheimer's Brain" are perfectly fine. But she does have a disease.

The other phone call is, on most days, between 3:30 and 4pm and that call also is a wake-up call, after she has gone back to sleep after lunch. This call is to get her to get up, stand up, walk down the hall.

"I'm comfortable here in bed," she says. "Why can't I just stay here under the covers?"

Then I have some sort of answer. I've been practicing this answer for a long time. "Well, you need to stand up straight, it's better for your back"

"I'm tired." I've practiced this too. "Then you need to walk some and get your blood circulating and get some oxygen to your brain." 

"But you told me I could sleep until dinner."

"No, Mom, I didn't. Somebody else might have said that but I didn't.  I said, "I'll phone you between three thirty and four and you'll take a walk and you said "okay."" They tell us to go along with people who don't remember things like that. I've found that telling her somebody else may have promised her that she could stay in bed until dinner works.

And back and forth we go.  Doing this for close to a year now, I know to say "Take the walk and then you can go back to sleep until dinner."  The promise of being able to go back to sleep is often enough to get her willing to walk down the hall and back.

Today we had version B of this. As she was getting up and out of bed and reaching for her rollator, she said, "I'd rather be dead than get up and walk down the hall." She wasn't kidding, either. We don't take this lightly. I know life is difficult for her.Wanting to live is difficult for her. But this is no time to focus on this truth.

"Well, Mom, I don't think today's going to be that day." She doesn't bite back.

 "Are you ready? Okay, let's go!" 
 
I've gotten out of that one, for now.

When Your Elderly Mom Is Part of a Chronically Co-dependent Relationship

It was bad enough the $150.

The next day I got a bad feeling. Usually when I have a bad feeling there's something to back it up. Is this because I'm so smart? Or because God sends me little messages? Is this because I'm learning from experience?

My bad feeling led me to look online at her credit card charges. THERE IT WAS. $850 cash advance on one of the charges. Plus a $55 service fee, Not to mention the high interest rate on cash withdrawals.

Can you guess who this money went to? 

It was difficult to remain calm on what was supposed to be my Sunday afternoon and evening, my return to sanity, my return to looking after my own health, keeping my stress to a minimum, getting regular exercise and lowering my blood pressure and blood sugar level. I'd been warned, after all. I could feel my heart racing.

with the bank on the telephone, we conference in my mother. She immediately said she couldn't talk because she was tired. We kept her on the phone. She admitted it, the thousand dollars. I told her what I needed to do. She was argumentative and feisty.

After a few moments, I asked her to hang up. She refused. "You can't tell me what to do." Eventually she hung up.

Sadly, of all the credit cards she had, this is the only one for whom I had not yet sent in my PoA forms. But one thing I learned: If the next payment was made, then the credit card company would automatically block the card.   Good news, but two weeks away until the next payment due date.

That night I wrote a letter to an attorney asking how to initiate a Guardianship. I didn't want to do it. But as long as she had legal access to credit cards and her checking account, she would find a way to undue all the good things I had done to put her life in financial shape and all the good things I had done to rescue her from bankruptcy and homelessness herself.

How can you feel when you're doing this? I knew it would destroy my relationship with my mother forever, maybe even destroy her. And maybe not. It was, after all, her own behavior that was destroying her and undoing her life.

And she was 87 and doing it once again.

Who Are We Doing This For?

The battle between the generations never ends. At least some battles don't.

I don't want to feel guilty that some of these things I do, e.g. selling Mom's car, are partly for me. Or that I cannot make any decisions that will benefit me in any way. Fact is that she will have more money for the things she really needs, day to day, and that her life and financial decisions it will be more reality-based. And I will have less stress, which is great, because the stress of managing her life and her financial affairs is killing me.

Yet I feel that whenever I have this dialogue with my elderly mom about WHY I need to sell the car, that the reasons given have to be only about HER and not about me at all. She even got angry at me one of the calls before when I said again that she could use the money to get her hair done, go to the opera, have her meals delivered if she couldn't make it to the dining hall, etc., and so on.  She yelled YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT BEFORE. Aside from the fact that I most certainly did, many times, why does every argument have to be only about why it's good for HER? Why do I have to feel guilty that selling the car is also partly for ME - at least for my own health and sanity, given I'm the only family member who's helping her through this time of her life? That I'm the one making sure the insurance payments are made, that the leasing payments are made, that the Triple A is paid, ,that the car registration is paid, that when the car doesn't start that I'm the one making sure the part is repaired and then responsible for making sure that those payments are made....

My own doctor is warning me that my blood pressure is going dangerously UP and that my blood sugar level is going dangerously UP because I'm so stressed out all the time managing her affairs that I'm ignoring MY health, I'm stressed, getting no exercise, etc. and etc.

There's nothing wrong with it being partly for me. Or saving MY life too. Literally. My mother should be able to discuss this with me. It should be a part of our dialogue. Of our human dialogue.

I wonder if these issues that she and I deal with are the same issues we dealt with earlier in life - except now they're being revisited as we help our elderly parents through these years of their lives when they're sooooo dependent on others.

It's a difficult dialogue when we're making decisions that affect our elderly parents. It's a lot easier when they understand and accept that the wise decision may be the emotionally difficult one.

Fact is the car is sold, I feel great, and she may have been angry then sad, but I think she's going to be okay now.

This Afternoon I Sold Mom's Car

Mom's upset but she's not talking about it.

She sees the petty cash that I've brought her back to help her with daily expenses,, eg tipping people who come deliver her prescriptions, etc., asks where I got that, and I tell her. "I don't want to talk about it."

This is the WRONG thing to say to me. I hate denial. It starts a fight. We  fight. She gets upset. I get upset. I pack up and go... I HAVE to get away from the denial.

Dinner is being delivered to each and every apartment tonight because of the flu outbreak. So a few of the residents decide to eat together when their dinners are delivered. There are four of us. We are laughing and having fun. By the end of the evening, hard feelings seem forgotten.

The car dealer who sold her her car and who bought it back said to me: She will forget it. She will be angry for a day or two but then she'll forget it.  Tell her you want to do it so that she'll have money to go to shows or plays or to travel. I tried to follow his advice. His advice was wise.

It's now 10pm and my mom is telling me how much she loves me. I feel I've added years to my life. I've shed tons of worry. I can sleep tonight. And I do.

Tomorrow I'll try to take her to the fitness room and we'll get some exercise. I'll show her that life goes on - without the car. I'll show her that a good life will go on - without the car. Maybe even a better life.

Maybe she even will be relived at some point. But right  now she's not open to that.

Today I'm Selling Mom's Car

Today I'm selling Mom's car.

I go to her apartment in the morning and tell her I'm calling Triple A now. I tell her I'll be out for a few hours until I can sell the car then get back. She tries another few arguments. Like how her mechanic can pick up the car and bring it to her place. Nice try, but it worked when she had money and when she was living just a few blocks away. It won't work now. And I share with her: It's like a human body. If you don't use it, you lose it. The car has to be driven regularly, and she's not driving it at all. She has given up on the argument about when she gets her memory back. These are her last attempts.  She can't retain the financial issue. I get frustrated.

I call Triple A. They tell me 45 minutes. THREE HOURS later I'm still waiting. It's okay. I go into her apartment, we talk. Maybe it takes  the pain away for both of us. I hang some pictures and things on the wall, which she loves. I do a laundry. It takes our minds off of what today's task is.

Eventually Triple A comes and I leave. I drive the car STRAIGHT to the dealer. He's waiting there, so calmly. I need this.

An  hour later, they have the car and I have my freedom AND a check which I go straight to my mom's bank, which is conveniently across the street. She's actually coming out of this with some cash!!! 

Then the car dealer drives me back to my mom's senior village.

She's not thrilled that she gets cash out of this. But then again, what did I expect?

It's not always so easy to sell Mom's car.