July 1st and Exhausted

 I won't lie.

Caregiving is exhausting. It can be Caregiving as a mom to kids, a mom to a disabled child, a young child caring for a parent, or a spouse caring for a spouse or elderly parent or relative.

I watch the latest PBS program on Caregiving which is a 2 hour program. Our Chaplain suggested I watch it as she felt it was interesting. It tells the stories of a few families along with the history of Caregiving and how hard it has been fought for by advocates over the years.

Francis Perkins served in the cabinet of FDR as Secretary of Labor. She was a powerful voice for not just Caregiving but the Implementation of Labor Laws to protect children, and so much more. If you are interested you can look her up.

So, right now I am exhausted. I my insomnia this past week was well used in visiting the night skies and watching the Fireflies mating dances. It eventually catches up and Sunday night I went to bed at 8pm and did not wake up until 5am.

It isn't just sleep deprivation, it feels like my soul is being dragged through a fog. When I am tired like this, everything is ugly. I am ugly. I am short tempered and have to bite my tongue.

What has not helped at all is that the Respite person has become unpredictable. I had a car appointment. As I am waiting for her with keys in hand to leave.

Text: Sorry hon, is your appointment today? I'm running late.

Me: Yes.

Now if anyone knows me, they know my work ethic is extreme. I always showed up before my shifts, was never late, and never had excuses.

Text: I forgot my medicine I have to take twice a day and had to go back for it.

Me: Hmmm.

I was not amused at being referred to as hon. 

Other reasons for being late. Overslept. Traffic. [on rural roads? plan for it!] Can't find childcare. 

I give her the benefit of doubt but it seems more and more that poor planning is the issue. None of the 'excuses' are valid. Not if she would plan ahead.

I'm going to combine that with the stress from the long weekend stay of my friend. I like him, I enjoy his company. I don't mind his pets. But more than one overnight stay is my new limit. And I am not available to waltz around in the woods and watch out for him.

I am going to set boundaries. I need to. Granted he helped weed my gardens, however I told him not to drop the weeds in the grass I just mowed.

See? When you lose sleep and are burned out, every, little, thing, matters.
Muddy dog prints on the floor. Talking when I need silence. Oatmeal on the table. Spilled coffee. 

None of those things normally bother me. 

However I seem to have become a nit picking freak. I tolerate the messes I continue to clean up [endlessly] from my husband as he loses control over some functions. I remind myself he cannot help it.

Then someone comes and adds to the 'burden'. In reality, they aren't really. But in my mind, it is so.

Jason finally got the idea I didn't want him in my way. He left. Rich will miss his company, but right now I won't. I want silence. 

Rich went to nap, and I decided to put off everything else after scrubbing the house and the rugs...

to dive into a place of divine pleasure. Getting lost in some creative endeavors.

 

After all, what really waited for me outside was storm damage that I needed to attend to.

When Respite shows up today, I use my 4 hours to run errands and then come back and start working on the fencing damage. See, the work doesn't stop just because one is tired or angry, or frustrated...

It still is in your face when you step out the door.

I am looking forward to NOT doing anything Hospice or visit related until Ariel comes to visit on the 3rd.

I may pull out chunks of bark and branches and create a fantasy world [all while tending to my husband's needs].

A final note.
With Caregiving like mine, it can be horrible and beautiful at the same time. It is tiring, it is hard, it is worth it.

We are lucky to have support where other folks don't. So I have to count my blessings as well as my gripes. 

But the mood of the Caregiver goes up and down with stress, anxiety, and fatigue. I am human, so I will have human moods good or bad.

And then this...just minutes ago.

Text: Hey hon, I'm sorry but I overslept, these new meds make me sleepy are you okay with me coming at 10:30 and staying until 2:30?

My response...slammed the phone down on the table.
I should have said no but I didn't. 

Me: I'm not pleased at all. I had to cancel the appointment I had for 10:30 and make it for next week for my car.

I told her to come. I have to get sweet feed, fly spray, wormer, groceries, and medications, along with other errands. 

How else am I going to get these things taken care of? 

I will be reporting this to her bosses and to the VA who contracts her company.

I am done with people who do not have a work ethic.

The conundrum? Rural health aides? Few and far in between and very unreliable. Those folks should be paid good salaries and be strongly vetted.

My last thought. If she can't be trusted to show up on time.
Can she be trusted to be a caregiver for 4 hours with my precious husband?

More changes... and adjustments.

 Well, things are changing again which is how life goes, right?

The Dexamethasone has helped with the breathing and with the appetite [none at one point] and wakefulness. In some ways the wakefulness is overbearing. Often hubby is experiencing being awake most of the night and not having any day time fatigue. 

He has asked for breakfast at 3:30 am. Uffdah. It gives a whole new meaning to making coffee while bleary eyed. After exactly 2.5 cups, the oatmeal must be made in an exact prescribed manner. Each day I am given the specifics, even though I've memorized it.

At first I get peeved, then I remind myself that the DXM disturbs his sleep cycle and he has dementia. This is how he lives day to day. Our new ab-normal of sorts.

It seems that every other day he actually sleeps the night through and I have trouble waking him. I imagine his poor ol' body is just exhausted after a 20 hour marathon the day before. This effect is from the DXM interrupting the cortisol in his body so his brain isn't on the same clock as mine.

Meals. Every two hours.

"Can I ask you something?" I hear. 

Sure.

"Can I have an apple/popcorn/cereal/toast/chips/cheese and crackers."..name something that is eatable and that is what he wants. Or "I have a taste for...a banana split, liver or onions, chocolate cake...", or something SO specific that I would have to go shopping for it. I usually placate him with the intention of doing exactly that.

My thought process. He wants it and it won't leave his mind. I have a 76 year old toddler. At least he doesn't stomp and throw a tantrum. I do my best to accommodate. Why not? One day I won't be able to.

I just ordered a 'camp' bed to put in the living room so I can be closer to him at night. Our only other bedrooms are up the stairs. I've always wanted one of those for sleeping on the porch on summer nights so I can watch the stars overhead.

Time to redecorate! See, I will find something positive in this. I ordered a nice 'Antique Rose' blanket and matching curtains since the camp bed will be next to the porch windows. I might as well make it my 'special spot' for the duration.

The Hospice nurses knew that Rich was having some trouble with sleep but it has gotten much worse. The up side is that I found some programs he might enjoy watching. 

Here are a couple of funnies to go along with Caregiving.

Some good news is this. The Social Worker for the VA Caregiver program and I talked last week. I inquired about Respite Care. 
Destiny called me [Yes...very cool...THAT is her name] and is now interviewing a couple of candidates for weekly respite.

YES!

and I can arrange to go to the gym and maybe even have lunch with a friend.

I qualify for 8 hrs of Respite Care a week. I feel like somehow I won the lottery. I'm not sure what my share could be yet, but the fact that someone who can be with hubby while I do the things I need to get done?

Priceless.

I'll split it between two days a week.

Fingers crossed for this.

One day at a time.

A lesson I just learned to accept:

I want a PITY Party.

 

So, after a short vacation for some free time which...WAS awesome and wonderful...and a weekend visit from a granddaughter, I was left with the Sunday afternoon blues.

I'd had a great weekend with my son, his wife, and Rory. Someone else saw to the meals and checked in with hubby. The animals had enough hay and water to cover them for the time I was gone.

For the 36 hours I was in Kenosha, I didn't worry about making sure someone took their pills on time, if he got to the bathroom on time, or what did I have to make for breakfast, lunch, supper. I had back up for that.

Then, this past weekend I'd been treated to a girls' day out by my granddaughter, good sensible conversations about books, dragons, life, and all that normal stuff.

These were things that made me feel alive and normal. I had human interaction and lots of laughter. I remembered what life was like 8 years ago. Before one medical issue after another happened.

I would be lying if I said that at this point I am pleased about always being the person in charge.

Granted, my husband is not difficult and he is rather pleasant. The man who used to fix things, get things done, and be fun and engaging is gone.

In his place is a man child of sorts. There are very few things he will or can do for himself.

Now he sits at the table and stares out the window. Sometimes he has something to say but most of the time he struggles with words so it is easier to be silent.

He refuses to wear his hearing aids, so conversations can be pretty bizarre especially when his aphasia perks up.

"Bagels are trying to get in the scrins with those flies. Better shut the door."

Translation: Bugs and flies are on the screens, shut window.

I feel guilty for being grumpy and irritable when he spills on himself and the floor.

He asks me several times a day what we are having for lunch or supper. I tell him over and over. Sometimes I just purse my lips and tell him to think about it.

And then I feel like crap because he can't recall what he was told.

On other subjects he seems sharp as a tack. 

It makes day to day communication otherworldly.

The interesting part of all of this is...

Maybe the time off and fun visits make me realize what I am missing. 

I am jealous of those who have freedom to travel and the freedom to have friendships and a social life. I'm tired of turning down all the invites to friend's houses for evening campfires and get togethers...and other events. It is tiring to explain over and over why I can't just pick up and go.

Then the invites stop. And there it is. The thing in my life. Really, some don't want to hear my struggles and I don't blame them. So I don't talk about it. 

I know he is better off here at home than anywhere else. Yet once again I feel the discomfort of wishing things were not this way. Some days I'm just so tired of being the responsible adult.