At work today we were discussing the age old problem of prepping, cooking and cleaning up after the holiday meals. Men, age and women all entered into the conversation. Who should prep? Clean the house? Cook the food? Serve the food? Clean up later and watch football?
Then I threw in the disability card. I swore that I would never throw in a card for anything. I wish I could take it back. But it is out there and there is little I can do about it now. I played the one-up-bull.
I have always been a bit militant about the "duties" of women and men. When I was young, there were definite roles, which was normal for my generation. I never liked these roles, mostly because I hated putting my hands in dirty dishwater. Much to my mother's chagrin, I began to make a fuss as the men parted to the TV area and the women were dismissed to the kitchen. I wasn't popular at family gatherings for a while.
Dennis was a sweet change into my life. He cooked and he did dishes. We found a great balance with one of doing job or the other, with very little quibbling.
But now, at family gatherings....
Dennis can't do much. Mother forgets, and doesn't do much. For some reason, my nephew and his girlfriend just don't do anything. Jane and Ralph aren't here often. Paul is never here; at least he does not add to the load. But for the first time in my life I am okay with most of this. I don't care about the disabilities standing in the way of family gatherings right now.
Dennis and Mother can't help their situations. Hamed and Ashely will eventually be in charge of hosting events, and the payback will be their due. Jane and Ralph always do their share when they are around. And roles and boundaries just are not as important as they were at other times in my life.
Maybe I just grew up?
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Nuerological Disorder Family Member #3
Friday I took Shiva, the cat, to the vet for her check-up and shots. Whenever I see her around other cats, I am shocked by her size. She is about 1 1/2 years old, and still weighs under 7 pounds. The doctor said she is the perfect weight for her size.
But, the doctor also confirmed something that I had been thinking for a very long time.
She has a neurological disorder. Her brain is only half developed. In other words, she is a half-wit.
This explains why Shiva cannot leap, or misses when she attempts a leap. It also explains why she simply tips over at times just walking along. She still is cat like and wants to perch, but she needs help getting up on the back of chairs or sitting on the window sill.
The staff showed me one of the clinic cats with the same disorder. She fell over, too, had a hard time playing with toys and looked befuddled.
I am simply destined to be surrounded by special needs living things. Oh well, at least they are all of sweet dispositions.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
But, the doctor also confirmed something that I had been thinking for a very long time.
She has a neurological disorder. Her brain is only half developed. In other words, she is a half-wit.
This explains why Shiva cannot leap, or misses when she attempts a leap. It also explains why she simply tips over at times just walking along. She still is cat like and wants to perch, but she needs help getting up on the back of chairs or sitting on the window sill.
The staff showed me one of the clinic cats with the same disorder. She fell over, too, had a hard time playing with toys and looked befuddled.
I am simply destined to be surrounded by special needs living things. Oh well, at least they are all of sweet dispositions.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Telephones
When I was in my twenties, I became involved with a guy who turned out to be a bum. He didn't pay bills, show up for work and had two kids who were in trouble all of the time. The telephone rang all the time with complaints about one of the three of them. This was long before caller ID and I dreaded hearing the phone ring.
The relationship ran it's course, but the dread of the phone calls did not. I had become conditioned to break out in a sweat whenever the phone began to ring. I spent the better part of my adult life running away from telephone.
By the time Dennis and I found each other, I had shaken off the fear of phone calls. But in the last two years, the old feelings have begun to return.
A 6:00 am phone ringing means a PCA isn't going to show up for work. This, in turn, means that I must scramble to find coverage for Dennis, or take a day off of work.
Any phone call between 8:00 and 4:00 could be either about Mother or Dennis - a fall, a tear in the skin (really, I have had a call about this), someone is going to the hospital or worse. Often, I get phone calls from Assisted Living or the Transitional Care Unit, telling me that Mother is in trouble (she and a friend were leaving the grounds to walk)or she is missing a meal or some other silly thing. Then, the bill comes at the end of the month and there is a charge for these calls! I didn't want the call in the first place, and now you are going to charge me for it?
At least these days we have caller ID and I know who is calling, if not why they are calling.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
The relationship ran it's course, but the dread of the phone calls did not. I had become conditioned to break out in a sweat whenever the phone began to ring. I spent the better part of my adult life running away from telephone.
By the time Dennis and I found each other, I had shaken off the fear of phone calls. But in the last two years, the old feelings have begun to return.
A 6:00 am phone ringing means a PCA isn't going to show up for work. This, in turn, means that I must scramble to find coverage for Dennis, or take a day off of work.
Any phone call between 8:00 and 4:00 could be either about Mother or Dennis - a fall, a tear in the skin (really, I have had a call about this), someone is going to the hospital or worse. Often, I get phone calls from Assisted Living or the Transitional Care Unit, telling me that Mother is in trouble (she and a friend were leaving the grounds to walk)or she is missing a meal or some other silly thing. Then, the bill comes at the end of the month and there is a charge for these calls! I didn't want the call in the first place, and now you are going to charge me for it?
At least these days we have caller ID and I know who is calling, if not why they are calling.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Friday, November 6, 2009
Something New?
Oy! A full moon and Halloween candy makes for a very, very long week in schools. I am very happy this week has been checked off and completed.
I don't think I can blame candy or a full moon for Dennis' latest trials and tribulations, however.
He has been so much better, since our brief time with a family therapist (we were deemed in darned good shape considering our situation) about waking me up in the middle of the night. However, the last few nights he has yelled out "seven" until I was awake enough to tend to his needs.
Seven is the level of pain he is experiencing. In the ER and Urgent Care centers, they have a rating scale, 1 to 10, on pain. Dennis, not being a stoic Scandinavian, heads directly to the high numbers. We have, however, agreed that a 7 is "wake Ann," worthy.
He has been having issues with his cath. He feels it is clogged, even though there is some urine in the bag. I have been able, via a syringe, been able to pull out quite a bit of urine whenever he announces to me, "Seven."
Raquel called the urologist, and they figured he had a bladder infection. They prescribed another antibiotic for him. I am doubting that this is the real problem. Okay, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I know that something is amiss.
Unfortunately, I fear that more is to come.
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
I don't think I can blame candy or a full moon for Dennis' latest trials and tribulations, however.
He has been so much better, since our brief time with a family therapist (we were deemed in darned good shape considering our situation) about waking me up in the middle of the night. However, the last few nights he has yelled out "seven" until I was awake enough to tend to his needs.
Seven is the level of pain he is experiencing. In the ER and Urgent Care centers, they have a rating scale, 1 to 10, on pain. Dennis, not being a stoic Scandinavian, heads directly to the high numbers. We have, however, agreed that a 7 is "wake Ann," worthy.
He has been having issues with his cath. He feels it is clogged, even though there is some urine in the bag. I have been able, via a syringe, been able to pull out quite a bit of urine whenever he announces to me, "Seven."
Raquel called the urologist, and they figured he had a bladder infection. They prescribed another antibiotic for him. I am doubting that this is the real problem. Okay, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I know that something is amiss.
Unfortunately, I fear that more is to come.
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Blah, blah, blah
When, and if, I look back on these blog entries, I wonder how many I will find to be immature, or whiney, or self-destructive, etc. Perhaps I should add a vote at the end of each post for feedback. Perhaps I do not really want to know.
It's been a tough week at work. A full moon to start off the week, coupled with too much sugar in a kids post-Halloween diet, are automatic warnings to self-destructive behavior. I have come home pooped and running on auto-pilot all week. It's typical of this week of the year. If forced, I could find the hard data to prove all of this, but I would prefer a simple act of trusting my word.
Whatever does any of this have to do with Dennis' MSA or my being a caregiver?
I am grateful that we have found the right cadre of carers to work with Dennis. I know it will always be fluid, but I have accepted that. For today we have the right group.
I am grateful that I know my job, enjoy my job, and have found a balance with my job and my life.
I received a call from the TCU where Mother is right now, and she should be able to return to her apartment sometime next week.
The country social worker is ready to help us apply for Medical Assistance, so that we can have a bit more time for PCA help for Dennis
I know that the two of us are bright enough, resilient enough, tough enough, strong enough and willing to let all that is hurled at us to be resolved. And when we do not have the knowledge to move forward, we do know how to find the answers.
I am grateful that both of us have learned how to ask for help, receive help and allow help into our lives. Thank you to all of us that have heard and responded to our requests for help.
It's been a tough week at work. A full moon to start off the week, coupled with too much sugar in a kids post-Halloween diet, are automatic warnings to self-destructive behavior. I have come home pooped and running on auto-pilot all week. It's typical of this week of the year. If forced, I could find the hard data to prove all of this, but I would prefer a simple act of trusting my word.
Whatever does any of this have to do with Dennis' MSA or my being a caregiver?
I am grateful that we have found the right cadre of carers to work with Dennis. I know it will always be fluid, but I have accepted that. For today we have the right group.
I am grateful that I know my job, enjoy my job, and have found a balance with my job and my life.
I received a call from the TCU where Mother is right now, and she should be able to return to her apartment sometime next week.
The country social worker is ready to help us apply for Medical Assistance, so that we can have a bit more time for PCA help for Dennis
I know that the two of us are bright enough, resilient enough, tough enough, strong enough and willing to let all that is hurled at us to be resolved. And when we do not have the knowledge to move forward, we do know how to find the answers.
I am grateful that both of us have learned how to ask for help, receive help and allow help into our lives. Thank you to all of us that have heard and responded to our requests for help.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Full Moons
When I drove my mother home on Sunday, I looked at the sky with trepidation - the moon was full. I knew that Monday the kids would be full of Halloween sugar and out of sync with life because the moon was in a funky state.
This was one area where my father and I always disagreed. He was unable to accept changes that were not scientifically based. I, on the other hand, embraced new age thinking' at least that stuff that I had been able to view first hand.
I, like dad, used data to determine the past, future and present. The data we collected differed, however. I have data to show that children (at the very least) are behaviorally challenged by a full moon. I have a belief, without personally collected data, that sugar alters behavior. Thus, in my experience and data based thinking, Halloween and a full moon do not mix well.
I do not collect specific data anymore, but this week proved both of my long-term beliefs, based on data, to be true. At least about children, in school settings.
If I had the energy and someone to financially back me, I believe I could show that a full moon, and a seasonal time change, also affect many of us in an adverse manner. Alas, I have neither the energy or the money. So, no one, but those of us that are affected by such small matters, have much say in the matter.
Perhaps we should not have much say. Perhaps there is a reasonable big picture that some of us are incapable of understanding, or have simply not been shown. Perhaps I am simply whining, once again, about something that affects no one but myself.
In the long run, all I really know, and am able to back up, with data, is that candy giving holidays should never coincide with a full moon. And, perhaps, that is enough.
This was one area where my father and I always disagreed. He was unable to accept changes that were not scientifically based. I, on the other hand, embraced new age thinking' at least that stuff that I had been able to view first hand.
I, like dad, used data to determine the past, future and present. The data we collected differed, however. I have data to show that children (at the very least) are behaviorally challenged by a full moon. I have a belief, without personally collected data, that sugar alters behavior. Thus, in my experience and data based thinking, Halloween and a full moon do not mix well.
I do not collect specific data anymore, but this week proved both of my long-term beliefs, based on data, to be true. At least about children, in school settings.
If I had the energy and someone to financially back me, I believe I could show that a full moon, and a seasonal time change, also affect many of us in an adverse manner. Alas, I have neither the energy or the money. So, no one, but those of us that are affected by such small matters, have much say in the matter.
Perhaps we should not have much say. Perhaps there is a reasonable big picture that some of us are incapable of understanding, or have simply not been shown. Perhaps I am simply whining, once again, about something that affects no one but myself.
In the long run, all I really know, and am able to back up, with data, is that candy giving holidays should never coincide with a full moon. And, perhaps, that is enough.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Sundowners
Sundowners disease.
Cyndi, my non-SIL in California, first mentioned this to me last spring when we were trying to figure out what to do with Mother for the rest of her life. She did quite a bit of online research, and it made sense.
Then, as I was reading the thoughts and writings of other boomers, I heard other people mention this new phenomenon. It seems people with Alzheimer's Disease get more confused and frustrated once the sun sets.
Today, I fully witnessed this phenomenon.
We had Hamed and Ashely over for their birthdays. We broiled steaks, had wine (Ashely turned 21!) and then watched football. It was the Vikings (Dennis's and Hamed's team favorite team) vs the Packers (Ma's team), but they didn't play until 3:15. Dennis had playfully made Ma put on a Vikings jersey and he wore his very own. Everyone, including Ashley and me (we both dislike football), were enjoying the game and sharing stories.
About 5:00, the sun began to set. First Dennis said he needed to lay down. Once I had him in bed, I asked Hamed if he would drive Mother back to JH. Then she began to fidget. "You can take me home whenever...", "Is the game almost over? I want to see the end, but, does Hamed know where I live?" "Is it dinner time? Did I eat dinner?" "Do they need to walk me up? Do I need to check in?"
Finally, I admitted defeat. I needed to take Mother back to her home. As soon as I said, "Let's go, Mom, I will drive you home," she settled down and we left immediately. She wanted to get into her pajamas immediately and get into bed when we entered her room.
On the drive back I was wondering if light therapy would help those with neurological disorders. I must remember to look that up.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Cyndi, my non-SIL in California, first mentioned this to me last spring when we were trying to figure out what to do with Mother for the rest of her life. She did quite a bit of online research, and it made sense.
Then, as I was reading the thoughts and writings of other boomers, I heard other people mention this new phenomenon. It seems people with Alzheimer's Disease get more confused and frustrated once the sun sets.
Today, I fully witnessed this phenomenon.
We had Hamed and Ashely over for their birthdays. We broiled steaks, had wine (Ashely turned 21!) and then watched football. It was the Vikings (Dennis's and Hamed's team favorite team) vs the Packers (Ma's team), but they didn't play until 3:15. Dennis had playfully made Ma put on a Vikings jersey and he wore his very own. Everyone, including Ashley and me (we both dislike football), were enjoying the game and sharing stories.
About 5:00, the sun began to set. First Dennis said he needed to lay down. Once I had him in bed, I asked Hamed if he would drive Mother back to JH. Then she began to fidget. "You can take me home whenever...", "Is the game almost over? I want to see the end, but, does Hamed know where I live?" "Is it dinner time? Did I eat dinner?" "Do they need to walk me up? Do I need to check in?"
Finally, I admitted defeat. I needed to take Mother back to her home. As soon as I said, "Let's go, Mom, I will drive you home," she settled down and we left immediately. She wanted to get into her pajamas immediately and get into bed when we entered her room.
On the drive back I was wondering if light therapy would help those with neurological disorders. I must remember to look that up.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Birthdays
It's the first of November, and birthday party time in the Osterhus household. Well, it used to be a big event. My brother, sister and father were all born in November, their birthdays all within one weeks time. Then Hamed, the only kid this generation produced, was born two days before Halloween. Adding to the mix is Ashley, Hamed's girlfriend, with a November birthday, also. We had multiple parties when Hamed was a a child and then moved to one big birthday when he was old enough to share.
First Paul dropped out of the party scene, moving to California many years ago. Then Jane moved to London and this spring Dad died.
Today it will be just Hamed and Ashley celebrating with Dennis, Mother and me providing the entertainment and food. Actually the Vikings and the Packers will provide the entertainment and I will provide the food.
Happy birthday to anyone celebrating this month!
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
First Paul dropped out of the party scene, moving to California many years ago. Then Jane moved to London and this spring Dad died.
Today it will be just Hamed and Ashley celebrating with Dennis, Mother and me providing the entertainment and food. Actually the Vikings and the Packers will provide the entertainment and I will provide the food.
Happy birthday to anyone celebrating this month!
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Life
Last week I was at my doctors for my yearly appointment. We were talking about memory issues and it seems I have no problem. I guess if you forget daily chores, mindless activities, you are okay. It's when you forget the big stuff - like going to work - that you need to start worrying.
Have you ever felt like you were simply existing? Moving forward? Maintaining? I wish I could really put this into words, but these days I am simply happy if I accomplish whatever it is I need to do on any given day.
T0day, I was able to let 4 girls in 4th grade know that at "our school" we would not accept mean and bullying behavior.I gathered packing boxes for them and assured them that any continued misbehavior would result in moving to another school. I also put a 5 year old, with a vocabulary of a 40 year old, know that demeaning language and biting was simply out of line. Then I let another 4th grader know that if he did not do his homework each and every evening, I would put my foot down and move him to another school. Furthermore, I put a couple of teachers in place, helped make Hobboken Stew for a staff happiness fest (HA!). Then I met with a bus of hoodlums and put them in their place.
I feel good about today, and know that tomorrow may result in starting all over once again. I live day to day to day. Maybe this is the right way to live. I do not know. I only know that this is the way that life is leading me today.
I also know that life is fleeting and that we must live for today. So I shall. At least today - I will live for this one day.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
ps, mother is back at TCU, Dennis is in a happy place, and we have found new PCAs to lighten our life. Next step is getting qualified for Medical Assistance....more to come
Have you ever felt like you were simply existing? Moving forward? Maintaining? I wish I could really put this into words, but these days I am simply happy if I accomplish whatever it is I need to do on any given day.
T0day, I was able to let 4 girls in 4th grade know that at "our school" we would not accept mean and bullying behavior.I gathered packing boxes for them and assured them that any continued misbehavior would result in moving to another school. I also put a 5 year old, with a vocabulary of a 40 year old, know that demeaning language and biting was simply out of line. Then I let another 4th grader know that if he did not do his homework each and every evening, I would put my foot down and move him to another school. Furthermore, I put a couple of teachers in place, helped make Hobboken Stew for a staff happiness fest (HA!). Then I met with a bus of hoodlums and put them in their place.
I feel good about today, and know that tomorrow may result in starting all over once again. I live day to day to day. Maybe this is the right way to live. I do not know. I only know that this is the way that life is leading me today.
I also know that life is fleeting and that we must live for today. So I shall. At least today - I will live for this one day.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
ps, mother is back at TCU, Dennis is in a happy place, and we have found new PCAs to lighten our life. Next step is getting qualified for Medical Assistance....more to come
Monday, October 26, 2009
ER, again.
If I wasn't living this, I would be sure that I was a liar.
After over-sleeping because Dennis woke me up once again (for legit reasons, I guess), I was forced to rush around getting ready for work, and to meet a potentially new PCA. I got myself together just as she rang the bell. Whew! There was time to introduce her to Raquel, who had orders to show her all the icky stuff the job included, and then rush off to work.
Traffic was in my favor and I made it to work with minutes to spare. I logged on to the computer and gathered my papers together for a meeting. Then the phone rang. It was Jones Harrison and Mother was being transported to the hospital once again.
Didn't this just happen 10 days ago?
This time, I believe, Jones Harrison over reacted. They called what happened a "seizure". After 6 1/2 hours in ER, I finally found a neurologist who believed the same as I did. She probably fainted, because she is dehydrated and undernourished.
This being elderly shit sucks.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
After over-sleeping because Dennis woke me up once again (for legit reasons, I guess), I was forced to rush around getting ready for work, and to meet a potentially new PCA. I got myself together just as she rang the bell. Whew! There was time to introduce her to Raquel, who had orders to show her all the icky stuff the job included, and then rush off to work.
Traffic was in my favor and I made it to work with minutes to spare. I logged on to the computer and gathered my papers together for a meeting. Then the phone rang. It was Jones Harrison and Mother was being transported to the hospital once again.
Didn't this just happen 10 days ago?
This time, I believe, Jones Harrison over reacted. They called what happened a "seizure". After 6 1/2 hours in ER, I finally found a neurologist who believed the same as I did. She probably fainted, because she is dehydrated and undernourished.
This being elderly shit sucks.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
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