Frustration

The frustration levels of dealing with Mom have been high as of late. But then I need to remember her frustration levels are even higher and never seem to get relief. The guilt over trying to make the best decision about what she needs can be overwhelming. Her meds as prescribed by the doctor have several options and decision points. There are pain, diuretics, and vitamins all to be used as needed. Those decisions are difficult when Mom can’t answer questions to help with the decision making process. I have to go by gut or past experiences. Then there is decision to fill out paperwork like the “do not resuscitate”. Recently the insurance company sent a letter asking what was being done about a tumor we have been watching on the adrenals. Her doctor and I decided it would be too difficult on her to proceed with a biopsy, since surgery would not be an option whatever was found.  So we don’t know if it is benign or cancerous. And it has been very slow growing. We just watch to see what happens.I write the insurance reply to say, no we opted out of cancer treatment like chemo and radiation.

The falling down is a daily problem. She is very unstable needing assistance even in getting up off the sofa to go to the bathroom. The walker we got her at the beginning of the month is wonderful, but she can’t walk far to use it much. She spends more time sitting on the seat with me pushing her. She pumps the handles while sitting thinking it will power up to move her. Her energy levels are low and taking her to Bingo yesterday wore her out. She was asleep on the couch right after dinner and in bed by 7:00pm.

I am comfortable with my life being totally tied to Mom’s needs. She is like a toddler needing constant supervision. Otherwise I get fires in the toaster from inappropriate things being toasted, butter in her coffee, teapots almost melting from being heated without water, too much salt or sugar if it is near her, air freshener being used as hair spray, and pain stop roller being used as a Bingo dauber. Yesterday she threw away unplayed Bingo sheets and insisted they had shorted her. She messed up more games than ever - even won once but forgot to call Bingo. She won’t eat all of her food, often playing with it making a mushy pile. But then she will wrap leftovers in a napkin and hide them in her purse. And the purse and wallet are constant companions. She wants cash so I make sure she has a few dollars. She moves it from one pocket to the next so many times it is like playing hide and seek. Then she insists someone is taking her money. She stuffs so many odd items into her wallet it won’t snap shut. And she hides her purse in drawers and closets so she can’t find it. It’s often on a hanger under several buttoned shirts and sweaters to protect it from thieves.  There is no one in the house to be a thief!  I know it is all a part of the disease and she can’t control her behavior.But it is frustrating!

In my mind I imagine the end coming in so many different ways. When she fell hard in the bedroom a few nights ago I screamed and my mind raced to the entire scene from when she fell before and paramedics taking her to the hospital and surgeries and complications with her heart. Sometimes I wonder how much my heart can take of these stressful incidents.  Even stumbles make me think if she fell and hit her head on the coffee table it could be fatal. So do I move the coffee table away? Coming in from the car she would wander off the sidewalk teetering on the precipice about to tumble into the yard. So I widen the path and hold her arm.  It all reminds me of the fears when I first became a mother. They told me then it was because new mothers have a protective hormone that comes into play causing you to have nightmares of your child running in to the street. But why do I have those nightmares about Mom now? Do I have too much of that worry hormone?  My solution is to get up early and write. Take a swim before Mom wakes up. Read a good book. And mostly to pray. The Serenity Prayer is my constant companion. I even laminated a copy for Mom to read with me.