The Stress of It All

I find the human response to stress quite interesting. We are all individuals, and we all respond differently to different types of stress.

When I was going through the breakup of my first marriage, I lost about 20 pounds in half an hour. I had no appetite whatsoever, and went through each day in a giddy state of hunger denied.

Now, with my mother's health and life in a state of flux and hubby's job gone, I do not deny my hunger. In fact I cherish it, nurture it, feed it lots and lots. I have gained 7 pounds in about two weeks. Hubby has lost about 10-14 pounds over the last two months. Neither one of us can afford to gain or lose much. Six pounds is what separates our weights now. He looks more and more like a resident of Belsen as my waistline and hips bloom over the tops and out the sides of my jeans.

I am trying to fix this weight disparity, but it is difficult. I need to feed hubby more and me less. When he eats, he eats heartily. And when he drinks, which is an everyday occurrence now, he drinks excessively. I want to bake and baste and fry and fricasee for him, but my scales tell me that I shouldn't for my own sake. So what to do?

Exercise is an option. I went to the gym yesterday for the first time since the beginning of March. I ran and walked 5K on the treadmill, not exactly thrilled with my performance, but not too disappointed either. I only have a week and a half till the Race for Life. This is my third time running in this 5K race, and I'm in my worst shape yet. Still, I managed 3.5K before slowing my pace to a quick walk, then ran some more after .5K.

With all that unaccustomed exercise, I expected to sleep like a baby. And at 10:15 last night, it was lights out. But at 4 this morning I was up with the birds, worrying, worrying. Worrying about my mother. Will she be made homeless by her stepdaughters? Worrying about hubby's jobless state, which is creating many problems at home. He and daughter clash daily when he and I aren't. He has upset our domestic routine greatly, then gets angry at us when we tell him this. We are supposed to bend to his needs and wishes without any bending on his part to us. Worrying about arrangements for the kids this weekend while we are at a wedding and what am I going to wear to this event since nothing fits. Worrying about the excess baggage I am carrying all of a sudden.

I speak to my mother daily now. I listen for what isn't said. I try to discourage her paranoia about the stepdaughters and encourage her to have a social life again. Her tone is lighter. Her biggest need is to know that someone cares about her, which I am trying to show. My sister has too many soap operas going on in her life to do this. And she and my mother have too much baggage from the past. So do I but I try to overcome it. I am practical. I try to come up with plans of action.

And when I cannot, I eat. And sleep fitfully.

Temperature's Rising

God, I hope hubby finds a job, and soon. He is almost impossible to live with. I know he's going through a tough time, but so am I. And we're all having to learn how to live together again after two and a half years of weekends only. The thing is, hubby thinks we should adjust to him, rather than the other way round. He's in London today for some meetings. Hopefully, one will be fruitful.

My stepdad seems to have settled in well into the nursing home. He even found some friends already. My mother is gradually getting used to it and is catching up on her sleep. After my 10 days there, I realised that she must have been waking up with him every single night. I know I did. She went to church yesterday for the first time in many months. I think as she rediscovers her social life she will perk up a bit more.

My stepdad doesn't have cancer, thank God. He has had a major stroke and many minor ones at some time in the past. He is in a wheel chair and on oxygen now. The wheel chair must be for the convenience of the staff because he can walk around with the aid of his walker (zimmer frame). He is supposed to be assessed by a physical therapist but my mother didn't know if he had been yet. I have to keep reminding her of what she needs to do and ask. My stepfather's responsible daughter took over the details but she's gone back to work, leaving my mother and the flakey one in charge.

Hubby and I have had a discussion about what happens to my mother once my stepfather dies (of course, he may find a new lease on life in the nursing home). The house they live in is in his daughters' names (this was done before my mother married my stepfather). The daughters said my mother is welcome to live there as long as my stepfather is alive. But what happens then? She said she doesn't have enough money to go into assisted living accommodation or to buy another house or condo.

My plan, provided hubby gets another job, would be to buy a condo in Florida, with my mother putting in about a third, for her to live in. It could be close to my sister but would give them both their own space (which they need). Although my mother is still able to live independently, those days may be numbered. There is no option that is neat and tidy because my mother doesn't have a neat and tidy life, nor does my sister. I think this would work out best for all.

I just want my life to be boring again. I want my biggest worries to be the five pounds I've gained or the party invitation that didn't come. I don't even feel like going out and socialising at the moment. A friend tried to get us to go out Saturday and I just didn't want to. That is so unlike me. I curled up in bed with the papers and the cat and watched TV. I haven't kept up with my blog buddies either. Every time I try to go on the computer, somebody barges in and needs to get on it (having one computer is a bit like having one bathroom). I want to feel funny and witty and sexy and energetic, and all those things just aren't happening right now.

Back in England

Home at last! But first to update on the mother/stepfather situation.

He was admitted to the hospital on the day I left. His responsible daughter came to visit for the weekend and saw what I was concerned about. Her husband tried to blame my mom in a way for the condition my stepfather is in by saying she leads such a sedentery lifestyle. That is true, but they should be dealing with the situation as it is, not as it could or should be. My mother is 82 and is not going to suddenly become very active.

Anyway, at the hospital they did an MRI scan on my stepfather and found that he has had a stroke at some time in the past (which my sister and I have been suspecting for a long time). He also has a shadow on his lung, which could be either pneumonia or cancer. As of yesterday my mother didn't know the results of a further scan which could confirm the presence of cancer. He is to be admitted to the hospital's rehab center at some point.

After I got to my hotel room in Salt Lake City on Monday, I ordered room service and a bottle of wine. I drank that bottle alone, watched Dancing with the Stars, and cried my eyes out for my stepfather. What if I hadn't stepped in and done something? I'm sure the responsible stepsister would have done something at some point, but why did the poor man and my mother have to wait so long for someone to do something? I think the stepsisters have decided that my mother's physical problems are all to do with her negative mental attitude. In fact I know that because they told me so. I pointed out that she has had an awful lot happen to her in a very short time: lump found in the breast, pneumonia, blood found in stool, atrial fibrillation diagnosed, colonoscopy (which isn't a walk in the park), severe case of sinusitis. I don't want to have a fight with the stepsisters because I don't think it would be helpful for my mother or anyone else. So I tried to pile on the guilt in a subtle way. While they were busy chatting to each other, I helped their father get up out of a chair. I undressed him in front of the responsible stepsister. I saw her jaw drop open. They have been in denial for a long time and the flaky one continues to be. Denial does not mean he's going to get better.


My mother does have a negative mental attitude. I asked her if she thought she should have anti-depressants or anti-anxiety drugs. She doesn't think so, but I do wonder. She feels that now with me gone, there is no one to look after her. I have the Home Health case worker's number in addition to a bunch of other numbers. I will have to keep a watch on my mother from afar. What is alarming is my mother and stepfather don't seem capable of managing their medications. My stepfather takes an anti-depressant called imipramine for control of his sphincter muscle. However, he seems to have confused that with another drug he takes for blood pressure. In the night he says he gets up with leg cramps and takes the imipramine, which could mean he's be overdosing on it. But does he really get up? I doubt it. He has to have help getting into bed, can't turn over by himself. Could he get up and get back into bed without waking up my mother or falling?

Don't think I got a word of thanks for instigating this either. I always knew that if it went wrong, I would get blamed, but if it went right, I would get no credit. And really that doesn't matter. What does matter is that my stepfather's health issues are at long last being addressed.

I didn't think I was going to get home. An hour into my flight from Newark, the stewardess came on the PA and said there was something wrong with the plane and the pilot was going to try to fix it. Next thing we knew, we dropped altitude quite quickly and banked to the left. The woman next to me started crying. I clutched the arm rests and prayed like crazy and said to myself, "They can't do this to my mother." I turned on the flight map and saw that we were turning around. We didn't appear to be that far from Boston, and about 20-30 minutes later, we landed there -- rather messily, I might add. The back-up hydraulic system for the flaps wasn't working apparently. They repaired it, and two hours later we were back up in the air. Midway through the flight, I started to feel very uncomfortable, like I was going to be sick. I walked back to the lavatory and waited, but suddenly felt faint. The attentive steward noticed something was wrong and had me sit down in the galley and got me some water. I cooled down and felt better. I managed about 20 minutes of sleep.

So I'm recuperating today. I took Jakey for a long walk. He is healing nicely now, but seems afraid of his food bowl so I'm feeding him by hand for the time being. The house is filthy (men just don't see things that we do), but I can clean it. My kids missed me like crazy and are very happy to have me home.

I have mixed feelings. Of course I'm happy to be back with my husband and family. But I worry about my mother and stepfather. If I could, I would move in with them and take care of them, because that is what they need. But I can't. I'm just doing what I can do. And preparing myself emotionally for a funeral in the not-too-distant future.

Falling Down

I accomplished something yesterday that I was extremely proud of. I got my stepfather to the doctor. He had fallen out of bed about 5:30 and the paramedics had to be called out. One followed me into the kitchen and said we might want to get my stepfather checked out by a doctor and that it might be time to put him in a nursing home because my mother is in no shape to look after him.

This was after he'd woken us at 1 a.m. He'd gotten up in the night and couldn't get back into bed. I tried to move him as best as I could but I lay awake worrying that he was going to fall out of bed again. And of course he did.

The doctor checked him out fairly thoroughly. I told him about the two falls my stepfather has had since I've been here. I wanted to say more but held back. I asked about a test for stroke. The doctor decided my stepfather should see a neurologist and made an appointment. He also took some blood. I told him my stepfather has difficulty moving his legs and asked if this was due to age. He said it isn't.

When we got home there was a message from the Home Health caseworker. She came by and I told her I was very concerned about leaving my mother on her own to look after my stepfather. I told her about the falls, and his general weakness. She was very sympathetic and suggested we get the doctor on board. He could get my stepfather admitted to the hospital for observation and then to a nursing home for rehab. This would give my mother some time to recuperate and grow stronger too.

I told my stepfather's daughter (not the negligent one) what the paramedic said and what happened at the doctor's and what the caseworker said. She seems to be on board.

But I don't trust her altogether so I emailed the doctor today and told him my concerns about my stepfather's rapid loss of strength, about another fall my stepfather had while my mother was in the hospital, and how my mother has been under extreme stress looking after him.

Today we found out my stepfather is anemic. The doctor wants to run more tests. He called me today about my email and said he thought hospitalization would be a good idea. He wanted to take my stepfather off one of his medications over the weekend and we are to call him on Monday at 9 a.m. Here's the snag: I told my stepfather I spoke to the doctor and he might want to hospitalize him. My stepfather doesn't want to go in to the hospital. I'm afraid he'll talk his daughter out of it. And his daughter is taking over talking to the doctor. I don't mind. It is her place.

But what happens to my mother? My stepfather continues to go downhill, his daughters won't do anything to help my mother, then my mother goes downhill and probably ends up dying before he does. That is the nightmare scenario I am trying to avoid.

My stepfather has high care needs. He can't get out of a chair on his own. He shuffles instead of walking. He is incontinent and wets himself all the time. He can't change his clothes without help. He can't turn over in bed. He has great difficulty getting in and out of bed. Sometimes, but not always, he has mental confusion. He sleeps most of the day. He is very weak.

My mother got into a very black mood when I told her about the anemia and what the doctor said. Why? She thinks his daughters will blame her for not taking good enough care of him. He's a stubborn ass, sometimes. I told her if anyone is to blame, it's himself for insisting on going to the VA hospital and his daughters for doing nothing. One of them was supposed to take him to the doctor after his fall while my mother was in the hospital. She never did. She said the doctor said he was in good health. I think it's hard for doctors to know if they're not given the full story, and I don't think this one was given the full story by the daughters. Why? I don't know. What have they to gain by doing nothing? My mother's death?

In the meantime I am plotting what to do for my mother if they decide not to hospitalize him. I must make it very clear that she is in no shape to look after his needs. Either someone will have to come in and stay the night with them (everything bad seems to happen at night), one of my nephews will have to come out for a while, or my mother has to move to Florida. She is not his carer and will not be his carer.

Pray for me.

How to Have a Happy Old Age

Being in the thick of all this elderly life business has made me realize a few things. One is that while people may plan financially for retirement, they don't make any plans for old age. They don't think about the day they won't be able to go on the golf course or go fishing or go anywhere. Then when that day comes they suddenly are old, very old.

So I plan to think about that day and what I can do in the meantime to put that day off and what I'll do when that day comes. Here are my tips to stave off old age:

1. Start doing pilates and/or yoga as soon as possible. These help keep your joints pliable and muscles strong. They will help in later life to prevent falls by strengthening your core muscles. I've been doing pilates once a week for six years. I'm going to bump that up to daily, if possible. Just a few exercises. And a yoga class too.

2. Change your diet if your diet is the typical western diet. Eat as many fruit and vegetables as you can stand. Eat wholemeal bread. Get more fiber in that intestinal tract so you don't have to suffer a colonoscopy when you're older.

3. Come up with alternative interests when you no longer can have an active life. No more fishing or golfing? Try reading or needlework or something to keep your brain engaged while your body is at rest.

4. But be as active as you can be while you can be. If you're a couch potato now, change. Start walking a little bit every day. It makes a difference, believe me. Celebrate the fact that you can walk because if you don't do it now, that day you can't get out of the chair or out of bed will come even sooner.

5. Try to maintain social contacts and make new ones. Just sitting in a chair all day watching TV or sleeping is boring and lonely and will lead directly to depression, do not pass GO.

6. At some point you may lose your dignity because you can no longer bathe yourself or are incontinent. This is no reason for you to wear the same clothes day after day, especially you men. Swallow your pride, get help with your bathing, but also maintain some pride in how you look and smell.

7. Budget for higher heating bills and the costs of having outside help for cleaning, etc. Old people lose their body heat more readily and have more difficulty moving around to get warm.

8. Make sure your car is old person-friendly. It should have a handle to grab onto, be easy to get in and out of or as easy as possible. Think about getting a step or running board if it's too high off the ground.

9. Get a pet -- a cat or dog. They can be your best friend and comforter. They can ease the stress of getting old.

10. Don't be resistant to using aids for getting around. A walker (zimmer frame) is better than hanging onto furniture or falling down. Think about your needs realistically. Can't do stairs anymore? Get a ramp or Stannah stairlift. Don't hesitate to ask for help, but make sure you ask the right people for help. And keep asking till you get what you need. Too many elderly people are too passive about their needs. It's your life, and you want what's left of it to be as happy as possible.

Some of this is too late for my mother unfortunately. But maybe it can help the rest of us.

Is There a Doctor in the House?

The colonoscopy went well, though it was delayed for three hours. My mother has diverticulosis. Apparently, most of us over 45 have diverticulosis. Having seen what it looks like, I hope to God I don't have diverticulosis.

Why is it that doctors are looking so young these days? Are they graduating from med school earlier? Actually, the surgeon was probably around my age (anyone over 35 is around my age, I decided), with some very nice biceps, I noticed. Not that I was looking.

My stepsister was to look after her father while my mother and I were at the hospital. I called her when they finally wheeled my mother in to tell her about the delay. "But I have a plumber coming to my house in half an hour!" she whined. I suggested she bring her dad back with her to her house. No, that wouldn't do. She abruptly ended the conversation and said she had to get off.

My mother has been complaining about this woman. She is single, 59, has a physically and emotionally demanding job, and obviously doesn't want to look after two old people, one of whom is her father. I was seething when I got off the phone. She has a way of sounding like it's my or my mother's fault for putting her out. And you know what? She still hasn't called to see how my mother is. How selfish is that? When we got home finally, my stepfather was sitting in his chair, by himself. She hadn't cooked him dinner (they like to eat at 5 p.m. sharp around here). So I set about cooking dinner for the two of them. I don't mind doing it, but why couldn't she have done something?

The truth is my mother's health has been broken by looking after her husband. He is frail physically and sometimes mentally too. She cannot go on looking after him by herself. I looked up the number for the Home Health people and got my mother to call them this morning. Someone is coming tomorrow. I will sit in and put in my two cents' worth (or more). We are going to see my mother's doctor (not the surgeon) on Thursday to go over her meds and see if he can prescribe something else for her tremor. By the time I leave on Monday, I am going to have something in place for these two people.

I spoke to their next-door neighbor, who offered some help. But she herself is recovering from ovarian cancer. She told me something I didn't know. The day after my stepfather's other daughter left to go home, my mother spent the day in bed crying. She was grieving for her brother who died last year, she said. My mother hasn't told me about this episode. Later, I suggested perhaps she wants the doctor to prescribe some anti-depressants for her. She said she doesn't need them. She said she just needs to get better and get some help.

I'm doing what I can. Tomorrow I'm going to write about tips for all of us to stave off the ravages of time.

While the Old Folks Snooze

I spoke to one of my stepfather's daughters, and she's on board about getting some extra help and support in. But it looks like I'll be the one finding the extra help and support. We went out to eat with her on Sunday, and I could see the pain in her eyes. She hates seeing her dad like this, and I don't blame her. He used to be such an active man, hunting, fishing, snow mobiling. Always busy. Loads of friends. Not any more.

To take my mind off this depressing scenario, I've been thinking about my first love. He lives in this small town, though I haven't seen him in 10 years or more. We had a summer of love more than 30 years ago. I remember his smell and his taste. His weather-beaten skin. His piercing blue eyes. He was so gentle with me.

He is a high school teacher and farmer now, like his dad, and has three kids. He's been married a long time, though I heard the marriage was in trouble.

I've been thinking what if. But what if would never have happened. The mothers wouldn't have been too happy. And this town could never contain my hopes and dreams. I could never have been the wife he has ended up with.

I usually only give him a fleeting thought when I'm here. Too busy with my family. But I have a bit of time while the old folks snooze to think. I won't seek him out. He is in his 50s now. I want to remember him as the tanned and muscled youth who turned my head. As each pickup truck passes me on my daily run, though, I wonder if he is inside. What does he think of me, if anything? Was the love affair as significant for him as it was for me? Even if it wasn't, I will always think of him fondly. He made my first sexual experience something to remember as pleasant and meaningful. I regret being so young, but not having it with him.

Back to reality. There are episodes of Mash to watch at full volume. Loads of laundry to wash. Dishes to be put away. Dog to be fed. Parents to be reassured. They would like me here permanently, but I can't be. I have a life and a family far away. Tomorrow is the colonoscopy. My mother is already worrying. What if she has a heart attack? What if she has to stay the night in the hospital? What if, what if. At least I will be with her.

Back with the Oldies

Well, I made it. Through snow and sleet. At Manchester Airport I bought A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian on CD and listened to it for most of the journey. I know, I know. Harry Potter. But he wasn't available in WH Smith. And A Short History was, oddly, an appropriate choice, being about two sisters who are 10 years apart coping with an elderly parent.

My nephew was still here when I arrived and filled me in on the falls and doctors' trips. On my first night I got a baptism by fire when my 86-year-old stepfather fell out of bed at 2 a.m. My mother got my nephew up, who lifted my stepfather back into bed. I looked on in extreme consternation. How will I cope if this happens on my watch? I can't lift my stepfather. I can just about help him up from his chair (it takes him about 10-15 minutes to get out of a chair on his own). And how will my mother cope when I leave?

That is the big dilemma. Her doctor took her off her tremor medication because it can cause lung congestion problems and hasn't prescribed an alternative. The shaking is annoying at best, but dangerous too. Watching her try to drink a cup of coffee is frightening. She is to have a colonoscopy on Tuesday. We are trying to get her over her latest virus, which gives her violent coughing fits, before then. I'm doing all the cleaning and cooking so she can rest.

But I'm still not attuned to life with my stepfather. He has gone downhill since last summer. We now have to help him get undressed at night. This is more difficult than it sounds. He is frail and can hardly lift his arms to help. Last night I guess I was a bit too rough and he cried out in pain as I tried to take his shirt off.

Since I'm jetlagged and waking up at 5 a.m., I have lots of time to think about this situation. There are only three solutions that I can see: 1. Get some more home help in daily to help these two. My mother can't cope on her own anymore; 2. Put my stepfather in a nursing home and my mother remains in his house till he dies; 3. My mother moves to Florida and my stepfather goes to a nursing home because he can't live on his own.

My stepfather has two daughters who love him dearly, one who lives just a couple of blocks away. I have not seen or heard from these daughters since I've been here. I think they have got their heads deeply dug in the sand about this situation. I am going to visit the local one while I'm here and force her to talk about it. I think Option 1 is the best. My stepfather would be miserable in a nursing home, I'm quite sure. If he were my dad, I wouldn't want to put him there. But they can't expect my mother to be able to look after him anymore. Then I'm going to talk to my mother's cousin, who seems to know all there is to know about this town, the Home Health Care lady, and possibly my mother's minister about where to find the help they need.

Currently, they receive Meals on Wheels five days a week. A woman comes in to bathe my stepfather every couple of days (now I know why old men are so whiffy). They both wear those alarm necklaces to push if they should fall. I think they need someone daily to look after them, as I am doing now. My mother, when she is better, will be able to cope with herself, but the added burden of my stepfather will be too much.

They are watching Lawrence Welk as I write this. As long as they can sit in their chairs all day and sleep, which is what they've been doing, they are fine. Car journeys are a torturous affair, with my stepfather shuffling to the car at the speed of a snail. Getting him in and then out is a bit like a horror movie. You never know what's going to happen. I can only guess at what goes on in his mind. Trips to the bathroom are also scary. If he's in too long, does it mean he has fallen again?

It's hell getting old. I'm not going to let it happen to me, at least not like this.

Hasta La Vista

Thanks, guys, for all the great book and music ideas. I leave tomorrow. My flight leaves Manchester at 11:30. After 8 hours I will arrive at Newark, where I'll hang around for three hours, then fly to Salt Lake City. I will arrive there at about 8 p.m. MDT or 3 a.m. GMT. I'll try to sleep, get up really early, visit the gym in the hotel, eat breakfast, catch the shuttle to the airport, pick up the car, then drive for five hours. Is there an easier way? Yeah, but it costs a lot more.

I spoke to my mother last night. She's ill again with another virus. I can't wait to get there and make her some chicken soup and give her some TLC. Hopefully, that's all she'll need.

With any luck, I'll be able to post from there.

Five Long Hours

I've been thinking about the five-hour car journey I make next Wednesday from Salt Lake City to my mother's town. I'll probably get up early, go to the gym in the hotel, eat breakfast, catch the shuttle to the airport where I'll pick up the rental car. Then, I'll figure my way out of the airport and onto the interstate.

But how will I keep myself entertained for five hours? What music should I bring? Should I buy some talking book CDs? Once I'm out of Salt Lake, it's pretty ho-hum so I need something to spice up the ride.

So I'm asking for some suggestions. What would be some good road music or books? C'mon, give me some ideas.

Under Pressure

I'm OK. Really, I am. I just sometimes have to have a little cry, and then I'm OK. Then I listen to Freddy Mercury sing Under Pressure, which I was going to post here but seem unable to. Will try later. What a fantastic song. I think Queen must have a song that goes with just about every human emotion there is (although I find Bohemian Rhapsody irritating, but hey that's an emotion too).

I took Jakey to the vet. We're going to try some antibiotics. She didn't think he had much of an infection but rang the surgeon anyway. We tried the Bitenot collar on Jakey but it was the wrong size and the nurse didn't seem interested in ordering a different size (and they cost £40 in the UK). So he's got the same cone. What worries me is his leg that was operated on seems to just dangle and he's not putting any weight on it whereas he was actually using it a bit more before. I wonder if I hurt him yesterday when I sort of forced him up the ramp into the car even though I didn't really touch his back legs at all. I didn't bother with the ramp today. I just lifted him (ow, my back, but it had to be done). I thought I might have to drive him back to the surgeon's tomorrow, and tomorrow is a super busy day already. Son gets braces put on his teeth, I'm supposed to meet a friend for lunch somewhere, and I have a physio appointment. Thank God I don't have to just yet. And you know what? The vet didn't charge me.

Hubby has organised (I'm back to British spelling) my trip to my mother's. I leave next Tuesday. My sister convinced one of her sons to go out too. We'll overlap a bit. Apparently, my mother's afraid she has cancer and that's why she wants me there.

Damn! I have tried to upload at least three videos from YouTube that I found, from Under Pressure to Come On Get Happy to a very young REM singing Radio Free Europe on David Letterman in 1983 (back when they all still had hair). But I keep getting access denied. So is that copyright or what? Anyway, if you're interested, they're all on YouTube. The Radio Free Europe one in particular is fantastic. Back when REM were still a band and not a brand. I have fond memories of smoking a certain substance and listening to the Murmurs album.

Well, I'm looking forward to the flights next Tuesday. I wonder what the film will be.

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OK, obviously, I've figured out this embed video thing so enjoy.