Sometimes I wish that my parents could just be my parents again. Too much to ask I know, but me taking over as caregiver is like we are changing places in this world. And I just can't stand to see it in their eyes. It's as if panic has set in and we all aren't ready for it. How can we work through this and allow them to go through this next stage of life with dignity and not shame? I don't want our roles reversed. I just want my parents. Silly? Sure sounds it doesn't it?
I hear where you are coming from. I don't think any of us realize how fast the time has gone. And then all of a sudden our parents are getting older and then to a stage where they are the ones needing help. It's hard.
As the oldest, I've always felt like an mini adult even as a child. And it was still shocking to me to see my parents age and face their own health challenges. As much as I want to be younger and my parents too, this is the life.
I don't know if it would help to talk to a family therapist or join a support group to talk it out some more. Always know there are supports through the community and through church. Have that honest conversation with yourself and your parents about what you are and aren't willing to do.
That guidance we received for 60 plus years is gone. We are the guidance.
This is a difficult thing, so difficult. But love conquers all.
May God help each and everyone one of us through this part of the journey.
Dcurnan, do you think it might help your feelings and your parents if you didn't do all the hands-on care personally? I'm sure there are many things you can do that won't infringe on their dignity, but feeling that the roles have switched completely can be overwhelming.
Remember the cycle of life and everyone has to go through it. There is talk of how we are born and lying in bed, then crawl, pushed in a stroller, then walk by holding on, then walk, then run, back to walking, then walking with a cane, then walker, then pushed in a wheelchair, then only can stay in bed, and then the final end of the circle, death. I know folks have a hard time watching loved ones go through this cycle of life. My question is: Would you rather them not go through the cycle? The alternative is an early death.
Look for the second childhood and make games of it, joke about it, welcome it as a part of our lives! They probably took care of their parents and now it is our turn.
Essentially, I feel like I'm raising a 13 year old. I can't exactly ground her or take away her tech. I never yell at her. It wouldn't work on her anyways. But I also have to keep her safe. And when she does things that are clearly unsafe, I get very frustrated. That's when I feel like I've got a child. I try so hard not to condescend to her. But honestly, when she tries to sneak things by me, or lies to me (and I almost always catch her in the stupidest of lies), or she turns on the crying to make me feel sad for her so I'll give into to her requests, that's when it's hardest not to treat her like a pre-teen child. I just feel like a defeated parent. I have to really pick my battles. But honestly, its very hard. This dynamic is very trying. Even her doctors see it. The best I can do is just take it day by day and hope that someday I'll get my sanity and life back.
I remember as we grew older, my mother introducing us to life's real facts, people die young, people become disabled young, you have children with special needs. These things happen and we need to develop strategies to deal with them that best suit our circumstances. My DW and I have lead our children on this same path of real life education.
My advice is to those struggling with care of elderly parents, introduce your children as they mature to these situations. Go out now and put together a plan for your own future needs. Yes, it will cost some money to put your affairs in good legal standing so that your children know what you want, and the plan you've put together for your own affairs. This can then roll down hill and the children of your children's children will perhaps not have the big struggle that our generations have faced. This is one of the greatest gifts we can give to our children, and by bringing them in to the picture, perhaps they can take some of the heat off and help us with our challenges. Just a thought.
If not the role reversal will typically be as the decision maker for the parent's well being.
It is important not to treat them like children. Some dying patients remain sharp until the end.
I didn’t like it either when my parents and I started to switch roles. When Dad died in Dec 2007, Mom bought a house and we became “roommates”. We sat down like two adult roommates and paid the bills together and we talked about what needed to be done around the house, etc.
In regards to your Mother smoking with the oxygen on…that is something she may not be able to stop by herself. In the 1970’s & 1980’s, patients could smoke in their hospital rooms and many a nurse would find a patient who could barely breathe sitting up in bed, a cigarette in their hand and the oxygen tubing dangling around their neck. Although oxygen itself is not flammable, it gets on the person’s skin, hair, and clothing thus creating an oxygen-rich environment that causes flammable (and even, non-flammable) items to burn faster and hotter.
Who is providing your mother with cigarettes, lighters, etc? Can she get them herself or do you need to bring them to her? Develop a Smoking Schedule during which you (or someone) help her take off her oxygen tubing, turn off the oxygen, make sure the ashtray is within reach and then, STAY WITH HER the entire time that she is smoking, and lastly, YOU dispose of the used cigarette safely. Slowly decrease the number of times and the number of cigarettes she smokes per day.
Do you have an outdoor patio (NOT a wooden balcony) where she can sit & smoke? (This is one way to follow HER RULE of: “if you smoke, smoke outside.”)
Has your doctor discussed with your mother about a “Smoking Cessation Program” or medications that could help your mother stop smoking. Nicotine patches, gum, inhaler and sprays may be used with these medications. HOWEVER, if your mother starts to take medication to help her stop smoking and she keeps on smoking, she has an increased risk of experiencing severe side effects because she might be getting double the nicotine.
Have her sign a “Non-smoking Contract”. You can find sample contracts at www.heart.org/HEARTORG/HealthyLiving/QuitSmoking/QuittingSmoking/Get-Ready-To-Quit-Smoking_UCM_307848_Article.jsp#.WuCr6MKou1s, www.smokeforwhat.com/quit-smoking-contract.php or www.interpersonalnet.com/quitforlife/contract.pdf along with many other websites.
It’s not easy becoming the “parent”, but we do so out of love and respect for our parents and because we want to keep them safe during the last years of their lives. Keep expressing your concerns and feelings to us. Good Luck and God Bless.
Its good info about the oxygen. I didn't know that. Since I'm now heading into a stage where she needs oxygen therapy, I'll have to keep an eye out on her with the smoking and oxygen.
Unfortunately, I think many of us on this sight are probably children who have siblings who have basically allowed one child to take over the role and responsibilities of caregiver. I seem to see that a lot here. I have had people ask why I do what I do for my mother. The truth is, despite any family dynamic issues, I know her time is limited. She doesn't have a diagnosis limiting her time yet, but she can't have all these problems forever. Its been a slow progression over six years to get to this point, and while it could last many more, I don't think I'm looking at very many years. As much as I get frustrated with the demand on my time, finances, and energy, I know in the not very distant future, she won't be here. If I didn't help her, I know I would feel terrible. For me, its the right thing to do. Even if my sister won't help me. And Sargeant is right. Some children are not suited to being caregivers, or perhaps more so for their parents. My sister has been a caregiver, but she has no patience when it comes to our mother. And my mother requires A LOT of patience. I love her. But sometimes it is overwhelming and daunting thinking I have possibly ten or more years of this coming. It's scary. But the alternative is worse.
There was no entertaining the thought of being Mom’s roommate. Cuz that would require a spirit of “meeting me halfway” that Mom didn’t have. And quite frankly, never had.
Mom spent the last 5 years of her life alternating between THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME and martyr and stoic mute.
Mom didn’t know what she was dealing with, either. Cuz she refused to see a doctor. Despite having top-tier medical insurance and more-than-adequate $ and a long-term care policy.
When elderly parents become their own worst enemy, they re-write their adult children’s reality.
Denial? Moderate denial? No denial? Doesn’t matter. From here on in, forget good memories. You probably won’t be making any.
Very draining for those of us who can still drive safely, write legibly and execute a plan. (H*ll, can execute a grocery list in less than 3 hours.)
For many of us caregivers, role-reversal could have been a good outcome. If the stubborn — and legally competent — old goat would have allowed it.
It is frustrating sometimes being the "parent". My mom's not all there some of the time, but my dad is, but he's no help-as much as I think (hope) he wants to be. I say, please make sure she takes her meds, as I run out the door to work, but he believes her when she says she took them. So I just make sure myself when I come home. My parents have been phenomenal throughout my life and I'm grateful. I try to remind myself that they won't be here forever, enjoy them now. It's a good opportunity to give back to them, for all they've done for me. I certainly couldn't do it without God's strength though, that's for sure!
Even though Mom and I were "roommates", it hasn't been a bed of roses. Plenty of times, Mom & I disagreed and we have this tendency to "feed off of each other's emotions" until neither of us can take it and we would both disappear to our separate parts of the house (Mom to her bedroom & me to the bedroom in the basement).
Since 2015, Mom's ability to perform ADLs (Activities of Daily Living) has slowly been declining. She no longer was able to cook or clean and we had to go over the bills 2-4 times because she didn't remember what we had paid. I quit sleeping in the basement in Jan 2017 when Mom tried to walk down the stairs because she heard me scream for help (I hadn't screamed-I was quietly reading a book in bed). 2017 was the "YEAR FROM HELL"!!!! (That is for another conversation that I might start if I can quit crying when I talk about everything that happened.) Mom is now at a LTC Memory Care Unit because she needs assistance with her ADLs: eating, getting dressed, toileting, etc. & uses a wheelchair; and because she thinks that I live in _______________ (fill in the blank) such as Hawaii, Florida, California,...; thinks that my brother lives in the house & teaches school (he lives in another state & is not a teacher) and that we gambled away all of her money and sold our two farms. She can hold a conversation for 15 minutes and then wheels away from you or puts the phone down.
BlackHole, you are right about elderly parents re-writing their adult children’s reality--no matter how nice or mean the parents are.
Feelings of denial, sadness, exhaustion, guilt, resentment, fear of unknown...I have them all. While 2017 was HELL, 2018 is better because Mom is in a LTC facility. It is hard to have or make good memories, yet my brother & I try. We all have to cope in our own way. Not all of us are caregivers. Thank goodness for this forum. There is a kinship that we can't get anywhere else.
Do you have a doctor? You need to get yourself in there and talk about your all the time sadness. You might benefit from antidepressants, talk therapy or both.
I'm hoping that the hospice nurses will take note of dad's behavior and get him evaluated for dementia.
Poem: Letter from a Mother to a Daughter
“My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago.” Just listen, please.
Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep. When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl? When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way. Remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair, and dealing with life’s issues every day.
The day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient, or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you. And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don’t feel sad—just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love. I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you, my darling daughter.”
Poem: Letter from a Mother to a Daughter posted by A Place for Mom Staff