It is what it is...
It is what it is...
Life as a parent, grandparent, and caregiver

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Email: angiewilliams08@gmail.com

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It is What it is

This blog is designed to provide some humor, compassion, and hopefully a little support for others like me who have been overwhelmed with family responsibilities, work, caregiving, etc. I used to always tell folks that I wanted to write a book about my life and I already had a title for it, "My Life as a Research Animal." My theory is that there are angels assigned to all of us to conduct various kinds of research. The one assigned to me is trying to see how much one human being can possibly take. I just wish "they" would graduate already!!

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Monthly Archives: May 2017

Tell me about the good ole days

May 16, 2017 by Angie Williams
Categories: Updates

With Aunt Lou in her last days of her life, my mind and soul is being flooded with fond memories of growing up with our large family of Massey’s. Aunt Lou and Aunt Peggy are the last of them and they’re both afflicted with dementia, not to mention their other serious health issues, so they’ll be no more stories from an eyewitness to our family’s history. We can only go by our memories, things they’ve told us, and what we make of all the stories we heard growing up.

I know most of us miss our “good ole days” but I truly do and I wish I could have lived during the days when our Massey family was “growing up”. I’m sure there were hardships, bad times, and upsetting memories but it was a simpler time and fun was made easily with what they did have – fishing poles, watering holes, farm animals and pets, and playfully torturing the youngest of the bunch.

photo from katherinebarger.blogspot.com

I loved hearing the stories about Aunt Lou and Aunt Ginny hopping trains, running after one another on the wrap around porch of the home they grew up in, and swimming in the wooden water tower hanging on to dear life when trains would drain the tower and they couldn’t reach the ladder to get out. Although it was a bit dangerous, it all sounded like so much fun.

When I was growing up our big family spent lots of time together, almost every weekend in fact. We all lived within a mile or so, if not closer, of one another. Aunt Lou lived directly behind the little Kayton Theatre and every Saturday or Sunday all the aunts, uncles, cousins, and close friends gathered at Aunt Lou’s. We’d have an early dinner, about 2pm, and then the grown-ups would fork over a few dollars or so in order for all the kids to go to the movies, most of the time getting to enjoy a double feature! Their plan of course was to get the kids out of the house so as not to interrupt them during their poker game.

Once the kids were gone, the dining room table was set up as a makeshift poker table. Everyone chose their favorite seat, emptied their pockets and purses of dollar bills and all of their change onto the table where they planned to perch for the evening. Pretty much most games involved at least six players if not more. Those who weren’t lucky enough to make it to the table served as the “fetchers.” They would fetch the players something to drink, fetch them a snack, or possibly even play a hand for them when they had to take a potty break.

The poker games were a serious thing in our family. All of the Massey kids and their kids learned at a very young age how to play and more importantly, how to win. It was like a right of passage. Weekly poker games was a normal part of their life growing up. The patriarch of the clan, Wayne Massey, held big stakes poker games with some of the local politicians from their small town up in the holler but his wife, my grandmother Mamie, never played cards. She thought it was wasteful. It’s kind of funny to me that most of their the kids played though. There were six kids and all but one were females, and boy they sure were serious when they sat at that poker table. There were actually seven kids had but one, a female, passed away at the tender age of two from dysentery. I’m sure had she lived, she’d be right there with her sisters taking the men’s money!

I’m sad that we’re at the end of hearing about these stories first hand. Although we’ve heard them over and over, it never gets old. Hopefully, blogging about what I remember and what’s fresh from Aunt Lou before her recent rapidly failing health, I can somehow keep their wonderful stories alive for a while.

Not sure I can handle this

May 11, 2017 by Angie Williams
Categories: Updates

This time last year my mom had just passed after weeks in the hospital and hospice. I can’t believe I’m going through this again with my aunt, mom’s oldest sister. Aunt Lou has been living with me for five years. She was just recently diagnosed with breast cancer which has spread to her lung and she’s in the beginning stages of dementia. Hospice is now assisting with her care in our home. A nurse comes twice a week, social worker once a month, and a homemaker is coming once a week to help clean aunt Lou’s bedroom, bathroom and wash her clothes. Although we have these few people helping out, it’s still such a difficult and frustrating job to care for her on a daily basis. Not only does she have stage four cancer but she also is suffering from dementia. I’m not sure I have enough patience to get through what’s sure to come with both diseases.

She was doing okay and being her normal self with routine moaning and whining about her ills. That drove me crazy but I got used to it and just kept taking each day as it comes. This all got worse though a few weeks ago. I had been really sick with the flu and not quite recovered when I had to take her to the nuerologist about her dementia. I was exhausted by the time we got home and relieved when I pulled into the driveway thinking I could go in and take a nap. I got Aunt Lou’s walker out and helped her out of the car. Our driveway has a slight incline so I made certain to help her walk up the driveway to the short sidewalk. Once she got that far I went ahead to unlock the door so I could help her in. I turned around and noticed her walker lying sideways on the porch and thought “oh my God!” There is about a six inch step up to the concrete porch. I looked to the other side of the porch and there she was flat on her back, looking delirious and mumbling. It was so scary. I crouched down near her to ask if she was okay. Was she hurt anywhere? She acted like she couldn’t comprehend what I was saying and confused about what was going on. I know you’re not supposed to move someone when they fall, especially elderly folks but it was extremely cold and windy out that day so I had to get her in the house. Of course, no one else was home at the time that could help me. I felt the back of her head to make sure there was no blood and proceeded to pick her up under the arms to get her on her feet. I pretty much moved her feet by prodding her legs and holding on to her to get her inside. Luckily the couch is right inside the door to the left. I got her there and quickly contacted Hospice to find out what I should do. While I was on the phone with them, she began throwing up. The Hospice nurse came to the house to check on her. After checking her out really well, it appeared that she was okay with the exception of the bump on her head. We decided not to take her to the ER since she has terminal cancer and we wouldn’t want to put her through anything drastic when the outcome will just be the same.

I feel guilty. I feel guilty that I’m possibly being more attentive to her than I was with my mom. On one hand, I feel like I am trying to make up for not being more sensitive to my mom’s needs and on the other I feel sorry for aunt Lou because she basically has no one else. She has three sons who are married and have children who also have children but none of them have anything to do with her. I don’t know what caused them to be this way. Growing up I always thought aunt Lou was so crazy in a funny way and I enjoyed being around her. That is except for when she was being ugly to my grandmother who lived with her for several years. My grandmother was my favorite person in the world so I hated when aunt Lou treated her badly. Now that she’s been living with me for several years and I’m much older and mature, I can see how she could push folks away. But…she’s 92 years old and has stage four cancer and dementia. I love her and not only as her niece but as a human being, I can’t not help her. I resisted being so involved after my mom passed away but as time went by and her health declined so seriously, I felt I needed to step it up. I initially resisted because I was so done with caregiving and the emotional, physical, and mental stress I had been through over the last several years with my mom. I just didn’t think I could do it. Nor did I think I wanted to. Most days I just do it and don’t think about the interruption in my life or the toll it takes on my emotions. Lately though, it’s so much more difficult. Aunt Lou doesn’t do pain or illness. She’s always over exaggerated her pain and sickness. She would moan, groan, and wine all the time. It drove my mom crazy in her last months and it has driven me crazy so much that I feel like I need to drink adult beverages just to get through the evenings with her. Now it’s so much worse. She fell on the porch after we returned from a doctor’s appointment a couple of weeks ago and she now hollers out all the time and really moans and wines. I know she can’t help it. I’m sure she really is in a lot of pain. I feel terrible but it gets on my nerves so bad I can barely handle it. It’s only going to get worse, much worse. Sometimes I really wish I could just run away. Some days I imagine leaving everything and everyone behind and starting over somewhere far away. Changing everything about myself; looks, attitude, job, priorities, etc. I feel very lonely lately and I struggle to find joy and purpose in my life.

Patience - is mine real or am I just stockpiling til I explode?

May 01, 2017 by Angie Williams
Categories: Updates

I seriously do ask myself this question often. I really don’t feel I have great patience but it would appear that I do while taking care of my aunt and while at work. Why can’t I have it with my family? Is that a problem that most folks have?

I’ve been told by some people, including an oncologist, that I have such great patience, especially when dealing with my aunt. It made me feel so good that someone important noticed that and told me. I’m sure a lot of it is just from all the years as a caregiver however, I wasn’t always patient with my mom. I feel terrible about that now. Sometimes I feel as though my mom is watching me as I take care of Aunt Lou and sadly or even angerly thinking, “she was never that patient with me. I can’t believe how sweet and thoughtful she is with Lou.”

I know now that I’ve learned a lot about how important patience is and how to achieve it while caring for others who have serious illnesses, dementia, etc. I also feel guilty for not having enough patience with my mom so I’m trying to make up for that with aunt Lou. Some of it might also be due to the resentment I felt towards my mom because she didn’t take care of herself like she should have which resulted with me being her caregiver before I felt I should have had to be – so my resentment got in the way of my patience with her. Whatever the reason is, I should be happy that I finally am at a point that I can have the patience I need to take care of Aunt Lou.

This is not to say I never get irritated or aggravated about this caregiving business. When Aunt Lou consistently moans and groans or repeats the same questions over and over I do find myself having to put ear plugs in or just leave the room until I can get my “patient caregiving groove” back. Sometimes I also get irritated that I’m even serving as Aunt Lou’s primary caregiver. She has three sons, a few grown grandchildren, and even my brother Pat who has been like a son to her most of his life. Pat lives with me and helps with a lot but most things fall on me. Sure, I could just say “Nope, I’m done – not doing this anymore. It’s not my responsibility.” But, I just can’t do it.

So…I’m thinking most of us have more patience with folks outside the family because we feel we have to walk a fine line with them. We don’t know how they’ll respond if we explode on them. We don’t want them to thank negatively about us nor do we want to lose those relationships.That sounds so crazy because I’m saying that it seems natural to be able to blow up on a family member and not worry about losing them or distorting their views of us. I remember a saying, “we’re always biting at the ones we love.” Maybe because we feel comfortable that they won’t leave us and no matter what, they’ll always love us. So…why can’t I be mean to Aunt Lou? Why am I so patient with her? Maybe it’s because I feel sorry for her since it seems her immediate family could care less about her and she and I have always had a special relationship. Whatever the reason, hopefully I can keep it up as her physical and mental health decline.

 

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