I just turned 50, and I find myself in a very strange role. Actually, I should say roles, plural. Now, in addition to being a wife, I'm the mother of three grown daughters (along with their husbands), grandmother to six young grandchildren, and part-time care giver to an elderly mother. Some days I'm not sure how I have kept my sanity! But I have, through trial and error, learned a few "tricks of the trade."
Coping with Mom has been the most difficult job I've ever had. She's 88 and has advanced Alzheimer's. Dad died several years ago, and after losing him, Mom went down quickly. My husband and I moved in with her in an effort to forestall her moving to a home, and this worked out for about two years. But then she began to do things that were dangerous, like leaving the stove on, trying to burn leaves outside, and wondering away on foot to crowded streets. I couldn't quit my full-time job as a teacher to stay with Mom all day, so an assisted living home was our best bet.
The place was awesome! A few of Mom's old friends were there, and the building was beautiful, inside and out. We chose a place near my school, and I visited with Mom every day on my way home and took inventory to see what items she needed. Once a week, my nurse-daughter went by to check on Mom's health. On the weekends, my brother and my two other daughters visited. I found that establishing a routine was paramount to coping, and that sharing and assigning responsibilities was a wonderful strategy.
One problem I wrestled with was guilt. No matter how much I did for Mom, I often felt that I should be doing more. Close friends helped me with this, as did prayer. And to be honest, without a lot of prayers, there's no way I would have survived Mom's last year on earth.
After Mom turned 87, she started having bouts of congestive heart failure. The home would send her to the emergency room, and then call me. I spent several nights sitting in a chair next to Mom's hospital bed as they gave her enough diuretics to drain off the excess fluid.
Being "out of her element," Mother was always very nervous while in the hospital. Old and frail as she was, she was amazingly quick, as I learned on our first excursion at the ER.
After they got Mom settled down, I left her for about two minutes to go to the restroom. When I returned, I discovered she had removed her O2 saturation meter, her blood pressure cuff, her oxygen, and her IV. She had started on her catheter. I stopped her.
"But I have to get up! I need to go to the bathroom!"
"No, Mom. You have a catheter," I said loudly, in an effort to overcome her hearing loss.
"A canister?"
"A CATHETER!"
"Cathy who? Is she the nurse?"
I'm smart. I can solve problems. Aha! I decided to write her an explanation, which she read aloud: I have a catheter, a tube in my bladder. I do not have to get up to go to the restroom.
I soon realized this strategy did not have the desired effect when her eyes grew big and she said worriedly, "Oh, honey, why do you have a tube in your bladder? What's wrong with you?"
I just didn't take another chance of relieving my own bladder. Heck, I needed a catheter before she was discharged!
Finally, after they let her go, and as I was driving her back to the home at 4 a.m., she actually looked at me and said, "You know, this is kind of fun, isn't it?"
I had learned to just smile and agree with her. It saved time and frustration on my part and on hers. This brings up another important strategy: Never try to use logic with a person incapable of logic.
As I've already stated, I was also trying to fulfill the role of mother. In some ways, this was tougher than being Mom's caregiver. My middle daughter was going through a separation from her husband. I had to bite my tongue not to take sides and voice my opinion. I just listened when she wanted to talk, and did not treat my son-in-law any differently when he came over to see the children. This had an unexpected bonus. He began to trust me totally and confide in me, talking over their problems. Eventually, I served as moderator in discussions between the two, and they worked things out and got back together.
As for being a grandmother, I've learned not to side with them against their parents. This was difficult for me, especially when they would run to me for an ally. Whenever I think the offending parent is being unfair, I tell the parent in private. NOT in front of the child.
Common sense, patience, a support network, and a good sense of humor are absolutely integral in juggling all these roles effectively!