What I don’t know about eldercare fits in an encyclopedia’s worth of books.
Over the course of managing eldercare for my 91-year-old aunt, I’ve had (in no particular order): stratospheric stress, belly laughs, bewildering conversations about health insurance and medications and bodily functions, temper tantrums, feelings of utter helplessness, despair, sleepless nights, brain-aching fine print to digest, and more.
But the biggest stressor is dealing with extended family.
You know who I mean, right? The relative who questions everything you’re doing but disappears as soon as she’s asked to pitch in. Or the ever-present soul who can’t stop lecturing you about what you’re doing wrong but won’t lift a finger to lighten the load. These maddening people are psychically in tune with your lowest moments, aren’t they? And they pick THE MOST CHALLENGING TIMES to needle you.
If you’re dealing with someone like this as you fight the eldercare battle, here’s my handy checklist of things you can do for relief.
Give yourself a break.
In my case, it meant realizing I don’t have to be my aunt’s best friend. She’s in a safe, comfortable facility with lots of opportunity for socialization. I don’t have to see her much to make sure she has everything she needs.
Know who’s got your back.
My husband and my cousin Ann have been my saviors. MTM prints puzzles for Lillian and spends time with her a couple of days a week. Ann lives several hours away, but she calls Lillian twice a day and keeps a firm handle on Lillian’s fluctuating moods.
Proactivity counts.
I am drowning in details I don’t understand. I don’t have time to educate someone else on how to help with Lillian. Much of it is financial and fiduciary, well-suited to my professional background. Do you have her phone number? CALL HER. Do you know her mailing address? SEND HER A CARD OR POP IN FOR A VISIT. Proactive people are my heroes.
Caregivers need to vent. A lot. Let them.
When my aunt first approached me about being her alternate Power of Attorney, I was a CPA in my 20s. My sixty-something father was her primary POA. She was in her 70s and very healthy. I agreed to be the backup because I never envisioned myself actually doing anything. Lillian wouldn’t live to almost 92, right? Dad would live FOREVER.
I even carried on with this dumb version of magical thinking in 2017 when her husband died and we renewed the POA agreements. Fast forward a few months, and Dad was on a ventilator with less than 50-50 odds of survival; I found out my mom didn’t give him some meds that may’ve put him there, and I didn’t know how to begin to deal with that information (She denies this – God knows all); I was on chemo for my own incurable health problem (a fact that only two people related to me ever inquire about – they also happen to be the people I can count on above – my husband and my cousin Ann); and Lillian’s universe was unravelling.
Being an adult means stepping up, putting on big girl panties, and taking charge, whether or not it’s convenient. I didn’t lock myself in my room, get depressed, suck my thumb, avoid everyone, and shirk my responsibilities for weeks or months. I ADULTED BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I ALWAYS DO. And sometimes I need to vent while doing it.
Ignore toxic people.
I have enough on my plate. I do not have time for toxic people, difficult relationships, or trying conversations. AND THAT’S OKAY. Well, it’s okay with me. I don’t really care how the other people feel about it.
What did I miss?
If you have a handy suggestion for dealing with eldercare, either from experience or observation, please share it in a comment!
20 Comments
One quick thought. Assume that your Mom isn’t young either and she forgot or thought she had given the meds. Unless you are 99% sure it is time to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. You have enough on your plate without loading onto it with a one time event twisting you up.
There’s more backstory than I shared here. Nevertheless, I hope you’re right and will endeavor to look at it that way going forward.
This. I love this:
I ADULTED BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I ALWAYS DO. And sometimes I need to vent while doing it.
Until very recently (and maybe sometimes still), I feel as if my venting somehow negates my doing the work. Thanks for reminding me that it’s okay to be human and have feelings and let people know–it doesn’t invalidate the work I’m doing. Thank you.
We’re too hard on ourselves in 2019. Venting is necessary to mental health. Go forth and vent! 😉
I am at the beginning of that journey. My parents are up in NJ and are 87/86. They sold the house and are geting by in their condo, but it’s just a matter of time before someone falls or worse. My two sisters and I have broached the topic of independant living and have been met with anger and dismissal. They are classic in that my father, (a retired police chief) says that they will know when it’s time and then they will consider it, but they are not going anywhere because all their doctors, friends, church etc are there, which is a slight exageration. One sister lives near them and visits at least once a week. I call them every day. We have made the decision not to fight with them, to stand by and be ready to pick up the pieces and clean up the blood when the time comes. The alternative is fighting all the time as opposed to having a reasonable relationship during their final years. They are my oldest children and they don’tlisten either.
I understand where you are. Your parents are my parents. They have bare bones legal documents. Mom refuses to do a healthcare POA, because she won’t die as long as she goes to the gym 4 hours a day. I have NO CLUE about their finances, their insurance, or ANYTHING.
I used to stress about this endlessly, but now? NOPE. I am doing my time with my aunt, and I have started telling family someone else will have to handle Mom and Dad. I know I am going to be called everything selfish when the time comes, but dealing with the mess they’re making will kill me before it kills them, and I will not sort it out.
I try to take notes now, because I don’t want to create these stressors for someone one day. I feel for you and your sisters. And your parents. Head in the sand only works until it doesn’t.
speaking from personal experience, all this is so true and great advice. i remember when i had to take over as my mother’s conservator and guardian. the attorney said there will be 40 big things you’ll have to do, but we’ll take it one at a time or you will be overwhelmed. she put it mildly.
Right? And sometimes one can not control the flow no matter how they try.
Always take care of yourself. I was an APS investigator for 15 years. Often was the time cases reported to us were not because caregivers were horrible people. Quite the opposite. They were tired. At the end of their ropes. Trying to provide for others, aged, young, work, etc….and forgot about themselves. You would be surprised (maybe not now since you’ve been in to this for awhile now) at the services available: MOW, Senior Services, Veteran’s Benefits (for spouses of veteran’s in some cases), Medicaid Benefits, etc.
And thank you for what you do for your aunt.
I’m still exploring available benefits. My pressure comes from juggling money versus time. She could live another decade. She could die next month. It’s hard to strike the right balance. It’s her money. If she wants to spend it on paid companions and 15 different bedspreads until she finds the magic one, she’s earned the right to waste her money. But I want to make sure she has what she needs for as long as she needs it, and we can’t predict how long that’ll be. She keeps saying she needs someone in her room 24/7, because she wants someone to pick up her kleenex when she drops it. I keep telling her she may actually need round-the-clock care at some point, and I want her to have the best, but she doesn’t always process. I don’t mind being the bad guy, because I know I’m the good guy really. The outside noise wears on me.
You are indeed the good guy. That outside noise? I would continually come back with “and you are signing up to do what with/for her?” The money balance is difficult, to know what to do. It does sound like your aunt has the best person helping. Though it stresses you, you are compassionate, you take your services to her seriously, and want whats best (even if she cannot at this time always understand it). It doesn’t help for you to hear this, but that outside noise was a CONSTANT in many families and caregivers doing what you’re doing. I admire you.
Where do I even begin with this? My journey as caregiver started when dad gave up driving and I was made POA for health and finances. My parents were very smart and realistic about needing help at every step of the way, from when they moved from a house to an apartment, then to assisted living. They made decisions on their own without me having to hold an intervention. And I was very blessed that my brother, relatives and friends were always supportive, never telling me that I wasn’t doing something right. I think I would have hit someone had that happened during the time I was stressed out from a pending divorce, moving the parents into assisted living, trying to get dad a veterans’ pension, and my job. The constant paperwork was what almost put me over the edge. If I have any advice, I would say to seek out any assistance available for the parents, the process and the paperwork.
I laughed at “Lillian wouldn’t live to almost 92, right?” I never thought dad would live to 95 and most certainly did not think mom would still be around at 99. Instead of mountain of paperwork, now I deal with her caregivers, a social worker, and hospice staff that also wonder what keeps mom going.
Over the years, I’ve learned valuable lessons about self-care and not feeling guilty (am I doing enough?); however, the greatest lesson has been in finding peace and acceptance in mom’s situation, along with a little humor from time to time. I’m sorry you have to deal with questioning relatives along with your own personal health issues, Andra. That’s tough and I feel for you in many ways. Continue to take care of yourself and ignore the naysayers because I’m 100% certain you are doing a fabulous job with your aunt.
Thank you. This means so much to me. I was hoping you’d see this, because you know this road better than just about anyone.
My only regret is that I didn’t keep an account of this decade-long journey. I probably could have written a book!
Andra, you speak truth. I can relate.
Glad I’m not alone.
I think I’ve been fortunate to have reasonable experiences. I will say that with both Jay’s mom and my dad the worst part was worry and fatigue. All of the other issues weren’t too evident. Your “relief checklist” is excellent. Every person’s set of circumstances is entirely different and unique to each family. It’s never easy. That is for certain!
Not easy at all. I hope we all find a routine.
I am in my sixth year of caregiving for my mom who is now 94. It is a challenge at times but I am grateful that when she was ill in the spring and summer 2013 the family and I got her moved closer to us. Being an only child has been at times, a blessing because I do not have to deal with siblings and others telling me what to do. You list is spot on. And on Tuesday at 1 PM New York time is a twitter chat with the hashtag carechar. Been a life saver! Happy 2019!
Here’s to you and your mom, Jim!
Comments are closed.