journal entry 7/14/2004 #2
3:30 p.m.
Sitting in the parking lot at radiation therapy clinic, waiting for mom. I am cranky and a little depressed today, probably because I went to bed at 2 a.m. after Tim and Mom got back from the ER. I don't know how to judge her wellness right now, and I'm not always sure how to help. Like last night-do I make sure she gets downstairs safely and help her get to bed? She said she'd be fine, so I guess I just will listen to her and ask her what she needs. She had a fever just now, but she took a Darvaset which should bring it down because it contains Tylenol. Now baby is starting to cry in the back seat. The kids are really annoying me today with all their needs. Maggie and Frank are at Eleanor's right now, thank God.
How am I supposed to manage all of this? I don't want to spend my last months with my mom being crabby, angry and overwhelmed. She keeps saying she feels bad for disrupting my daily life with her cancer. I say that this would be a hard time whether she is here or far away. They are just hard in different ways. I believe we need to stick together during this difficult time. I really don't see any better options.
posted by Kate @ 9:49 PM
8 comments
8 Comments:
Kate, I don't know how you do manage. While it's no where near the intensity, I managed to make myself physically ill this summer between helping my parents move out of their house and into an apartment, and also helping Michael's parents move in next door (!). Did I tell you they did that?
Anyway, one thing I learned, which I already sort of knew, is that I really, really need down time with no one needing or wanting me for anything. Towards the end of the summer craziness, I found myself taking a long nap and was puzzled as to why I was needing the sleep, since I had gotten 8 hours the night before. As I was in that 1/2 wake, 1/2 sleep stage right before I woke up I found myself saying to myself "Of course I need to sleep, because it's the only time my brain can process stuff when there are extra people in my house 24/7!" That whole introvert thing is pretty powerful.
Also, as I was bitching about having to help my parents sort the endless crap in their house, and how hard it was to do that with a mother who has early stage alzheimers, many people reminded me that I was lucky to be doing it while they were still here. On the one hand, I thought "Yeah, but if they weren't here I could just get rid of this stuff!", but on the other hand, I knew they were right.
As I think about dealing with this "sandwich generation" thing, I do know that I won't regret time I spend caring for my parents, as terribly difficult as it seems at any given time. It's probably small consolation as you're carrying way more than a reasonable load right now, but this is important time for you and your mom.
That was much more than I intended to say, but there it is. I miss you! And if we can ever work the schedules out, I'm happy to watch your kids.
Emily
I thought I posted a long comment this morning, but it never appeared. Oh well, I was too wordy anyway. I'll try a much shorter version.
Kate, I know you will look back on this period of your life and be glad for the time you had with your mom. That, of course, doesn't make it any less difficult now. It's so nice to have a way to keep updated on your life, I think about you a lot. It's very different and a much slower pace, of course, but I'm also transitioning into a period of life where I am taking care of my mom instead of the other way around. It's something, and I'm grateful I get the chance for a slower transition (God and Aricept willing).
Emily
Ack, now they both showed up. Sorry!
Emily
Kate, Kate, Kate,
Crabby, angry and overwhelmed seem to be just about the only normal reactions to your situation, so don't smother yourself in guilt about that. The fact that you are there for your mom has to be the greatest gift and an immense comfort to her, not to mention your generous spirit which made a reconciliation possible in the first place after some stormy years (I hark back to our college days). In any case, this sounds like the grimmest possible thing to be going through and it can't be compared to any other situation, in which one might have CHOICES (i.e. to "be a good sport" or "put on a happy face") about how to react. You're a WONDERFUL and loving daughter, don't forget that for one second. I wish I lived near you so that I could babysit (and finally get to know your kids!!!) or make a pot of lentil soup and lug it over.
Thinking of you a lot,
Hilary
Emily, I had no idea your inlaws moved in next door! I knew it was a "maybe", not an "it's happening this summer!" I hear you about the introvert thing. my time to myself is seriously 0.00% of my life right now, and that is very challenging. Just now I was in the kitchen making some soup, sauting garlic and onion and drinking a beer and listening to Greg Brown. My most prized introverted activity. But, there were people milling in and out of the kitchen, my mom wanting to chat, etc. This is why I stay up late at night, so I can not talk to anyone!
Heidi, When we aren't going to chemo or other appointments, our afternoons are pretty free. The kids would love to see David, and I would love to see David and you!
Hope you survive the slumber party okay.
Hil, you are here! at my blog! ARe you in Berlin or in NM?
I just wrote a comment on Charlie's blog (Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy) recommending Anne Lamott's book, "Traveling Mercies."
Have you read it, Kate?
It's not so much that I think you should read it as that your honesty reminds me of hers. When we read someone who writes honestly about the brutality of life and our own less-than-angelic reactions to it, it is such a relief.
You can see: this is a good person, she is overwhelmed and less-than-perfect, maybe I can be those things too, and still be loveable and forgiveable--because she is.
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