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The Process of Dying

  • Posted on January 21, 2012 at 10:03 am

Yesterday was one of those days.  You get frustrated because your life revolves around watching someone slowly dying and you know, there is nothing you can do about it.  You are helpless in preventing Death from achieving its goal, so when things that you can control, are thrown out of whack, you lash out.

The problem isn’t that people are uncaring, it is that Business is more concerned about the bottom line, than about the people that GIVE them that bottom line.  From the consumer who buys their products / services, to those who help sell the products or provide the services.

When those you answer to, are more concerned about money, than people, then why should they care?

They aren’t being paid to do that, and let’s be honest, we ALL have our own headaches to contend with.

Yet I still Believe that WE have the power to change that. I know the concept of One Person, One Vote, seems archaic today, but then, nearly half of us don’t bother to make that choice. WE STAY HOME.

AND THAT IS WHAT HAS LED TO THIS CORPORATE CONTROL OVER OUR VERY LIVES.

Beacon Community Services has some damn good people working for them, but they are being burned out, and it isn’t because the job is hard, or difficult.  It is because they CARE.   And when you care, it takes a huge emotional toll on you, more so when the people you work for, simply don’t care.

People like Trinity, Tracy, Yvette, Billie, THEY CARE but then we have others like Edna, Rose and many many more, who are there for the paycheque only.  They have closed themselves off, for whatever reason.   It comes from an operation that simply wants bodies to fill the gaps, unconcerned if they are qualified or not.

When you reach this stage of life, to have to be at home 24/7 watching the person who raised you, slowly dying, as age takes its toll, you realize that all the things she taught you, no longer hold sway.

When I grew up, you could rely on Government for many things.  IF a business was mistreating its workers, they would insure it stopped, or was corrected. When you went to buy groceries, you never had to worry about tainted foods, or expired foods, because Government insured that didn’t happen.

No, it wasn’t perfect, there were instances when things slipped through the cracks, but they were rare, not common place. Today FOOD & PRODUCT RECALLS are a daily occurrence. It isn’t that there are just more products, more food being consumed, it is that Government has abdicated its responsibility to the very people who they are supposed to be watching over.

Business is an Entity.   Government is elected by People, and is supposed to be responsible to US.

As you sit by, watching a person dying, bit by bit, you see how the erosion of Government Responsibility impacts you more than if you were in your 30′s or 40′s going about your daily life. You see how simple things like buying food becomes a chore, and you wonder, about all those old people, who have no one to subsidize their income, who must manage on what little they have. You see people take advantage of them by rushing in, rushing out, leaving them exhausted and stressed.

Something that just hastens the dying process.

 

Life is Complicated, but so are one’s feelings

  • Posted on December 28, 2011 at 2:36 pm

Mom no longer can walk, which is a physical result of her body breaking down.  Okay, it is most likely due to a stroke, but at least she can still stand, and all the rest, or can she?

I can handle the physical changes, because it simply means some adjustments in routines, like having a second home support worker come to visit, to help Mom go potty, do a change, and sponge bath.   But when it is the mind, that is something else.

It terrifies me, and last night I had a taste of that.

For months now Mom has enjoyed her Kindle, and is like a pro in using it.  She does love her reading, but last night something happened, that shook me.  She suddenly, in mid-use, forgot how to work the Kindle.

No amount of explanation, of showing her could manage to refresh her memory. She simply couldn’t grasp how to change the page on the device, and it frustrated her.  Scared me, so we put it aside, and she sort of watched television.  Not sure if she was even able to enjoy that, then when I gave her headphones to use, she looked confused.

It was almost as if she didn’t know what they were, let alone use them. I had to put them on for her, and that seemed to help.

Then going to bed, I have her put her feet more underneath her, so she can stand.  This time, she moved them further out, as if everything was backwards.  When I told her to stick her feet out, so they wouldn’t drag while wheeling her for a potty break and depend change, she pulled the feet inwards.

And yet, this morning, all is fine. She is using the Kindle again, without any troubles ( so far ) and when moving her, she pulls her legs back when told, puts them out when told.

This is life, but damn, it scares the crap out of me.  Physical frailities are one thing, mental ones are quite another story.

Now comes the hard part.

I wonder if I am strong enough to cope with these new changes in her condition?  I think, honestly, that this is one of the hardest tasks I have ever done. My head is splitting, my eyes are blurring, because I am worrying, about what next.  She forgets she has juice in her mouth, so takes more, and chokes.  She is far more nervous, but won’t say why, though I am sure it is the break down of her ability to do simple tasks. The frustration level has to be high, and how she is managing to cope is beyond me.  I doubt I could summon up that kind of courage, strength, to keep on going.

And that frightens me as well. Is she nearing the point of giving up?

This really is a lonely existence, for us all.  David sees how it gnaws at me, and I think, so does Mom. Yet I try to hide it from her, not so much from David, but maybe I need to hide it more?  And yet, who then do I talk to about it?  This is a very lonely job, a heavy burden that I wonder, if I can manage.

Yet, I know there is no other choice. I can’t simply walk away, or ignore it. So handle it, I have to.

Endless Patience and Frustration

  • Posted on September 19, 2010 at 8:15 am

I was never known for being a patient man, but over this last year, I’ve had to learn how. I mean all those baby steps, make for an endless parade to the bedroom, for a simple change of nightgown and depends.

By 10pm it is frustrating as hell, because it signals the end of the day’s duty, and the beginning of the free time.  Most evenings that is for about an hour and a half, so the endless parade, just drags on.  And yet, it is really her own way of protecting herself.

Smaller steps, lets her focus a bit more. It avoids falls, from her foot being caught on something. It makes sense, really, yet it also makes for a very long day.  The balancing one has to do, with their own emotions, is huge.  You never really get a break, because your mind has to stay sharp, to catch subtle changes, to insure the pathway is clear.

Yet all you can think of, is trying to get away, to get as much of that free time as you can snare.

It is a pitfall of caring, but one you have to be mindful of.  It doesn’t feel good, inside, to be so impatient, to think the thoughts one does, when one is anxious to get away.  Yet you know, when the time comes, you will regret every one of those thoughts.

What a life.

Taught To Win Not Fail

  • Posted on September 13, 2010 at 10:20 am

Most of us, are taught at an early age, to try and win. To set goals, and strive to achieve them. In other words, WIN.   And yet Care Giving is not like that. You simply cannot win, because no one has yet figured out, HOW TO CHEAT DEATH.

The reality of care giving, is that we are striving to stem the inevitable, and we simply will not succeed at that. Oh we can perhaps delay it a bit, make the end a bit more comfortable, but we can’t alter the ending.

Perhaps, that is why we burn out?  As much as we try, it becomes a frustrating battle that we know, deep down inside, we are going to lose.  And yet that is contrary to what we have been taught, from an early age, onwards.  It makes it hard, to constantly handle the task, knowing it won’t matter in the end.

Then too, isn’t how one reaches the end, worth considerating?

Lacking Patience

  • Posted on February 4, 2010 at 12:15 pm

I think one of the main problems is the wearing down of one’s own patience, for normal things. It sounds wrong to say, but really, I find myself being impatient, at least in my own mind. I try to keep it level, to not show my impatience, but it seems to just get harder with each passing day.

It is strange, because I notice how I am slowing down myself, yet I feel so wronged, so hard done by, when Mom needs to go to the bathroom, or just wants to lay down for a few hours. I keep wishing she’d move faster, or not just sit and stare at me, until I ask what she wants. It grates on my nerves, which it shouldn’t.

Hell, she is 92 and naturally not going to move as fast, and with the arthritis in her hands, can’t really do a lot of things I take for granted, like holding my coffee cup or a fork to eat with. Yet it bugs me, it irritates me, when in the past it wasn’t even a flicker of a thought. Now it seems to consume me, and I wonder, what is going on in my head.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way, this frustrated by it all, and yet I do.

Little things gnaw at me, make me even more irritable than ever. I control it, in front of Mom, but I find I am taking it out on David, on my dog, and myself too. I hate it, and yet it seems to be what it is, these days. I suppose it could be worse, which is maybe what is eating at me.

Am I somehow, looking ahead to when her condition becomes worse, when I am religated to doing more than I am now? Is the concerns of others, who keep pushing for sending her to a home, for a few weeks, merely a prelude to the pressure I’ll be under, when her abilities to function become worse?

There is so much to do in life, that I wonder at times, if I can manage any more. I know, deep down, that I can, but I spend so much time worrying about the ‘what if’s’ that it becomes part of the daily routine, and it shouldn’t. Yet, I don’t know how to turn off the brain, to ignore the worries, the stress. Little things get blown out of proportion, including the dog’s barking, David’s lack of picking up after himself, or cleaning up after himself. Yet before, it didn’t seem to matter much, didn’t seem to grate so harshly on the nerves.

Is this really what the future holds?

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