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Archive for the ‘hospital’ Category

We sat in the Ronald McDonald family room at Shands Children’s Hospital, sequestered for the day, waiting for the pediatric cardiologist to operate on my middle daughter’s 8 day old baby girl. All of my family gathered. We ached with worry, skittered around the edges of dread, squeezed hands and whispered prayers. We also laughed. We have that ability–to tease, to banter, to tell a familiar story, to find sweetness and humor wherever we are. All of us, together, getting through this wonderful and awful day, my daughters, son in-law and husband confined in such a small space, with so much at stake, and yet there we were, healing our own hearts.

I’ve been here before, with both parents, through back surgery, abdominal surgery, heart surgery, through kidney infections, Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. I’ve walked this too-familiar road, but never like this.

We drank nasty coffee, the TV on although none of us watched it, flipped through waiting room magazines, covered in blankets, our legs thrown over one another.  The hours dug in long and hard. We’d go through swells of fears and eddies of faith. Some of us took walks, others tried to nap. We played on iPads, shared apps, got fast-food, the only choice we had.

We checked the time, then checked it again. In the lull of the afternoon, our daughter gets a call and steps into the hall. Moments later she flings open the door, her eyes and face already swollen from days of sorrow now blotched and red with fresh tears.

I sprung, arms open…oh god…

The surgery was over. It went well. Our tiny baby’s heart is repaired.

Relief poured up and out of us all. We became a geyser of tears and laughter, cheers and hugs.

If it weren’t for the break that humor gave us, the ability to siphon off some of the dread, the sharing of strength and solace, I don’t know how any of us would have made it through that day. For a caregiver, or family or friend of a caregiver, perhaps this is your greatest gift to give.

How does humor heal? New research has shown that it’s a natural pain reliever and does wonders for our immune system. Laughter is nature’s re-calibrator. Most of all, it’s contagious. And don’t worry about it being inappropriate to smile or laugh when life is at its worst. It’s a testament to the human spirit, to hold the “scary stuff” in one hand, and to balance it with joy, with sweetness, with laughter, in the other.

Even in the darkest of hours, laugh, tease, play and tell a story.

Humor heals. It makes the unbearable bearable. 

 

~Carol O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother, available at Amazon and on Kindle

Resources:

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2009/02/17/9-ways-that-humor-heals/

http://women.webmd.com/guide/give-your-body-boost-with-laughter

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“You want to see my new girlfriend?” My friend’s husband teased his wife one day as I was visiting her in the hospital. He is her caregiver, her husband, her lover, her muse and mentor  of 40 years, and her illness had put a real strain on their relationship. 

He pulls out his wallet, takes out a picture and shows it to her. I can tell it’s a joke because he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. She breaks out in laughter despite her pain. They show me the picture.

It was a picture he had taken of his hand!

My friend was in the hospital–that time for close to three weeks. She has a chronic disease that has attacked her intestines. Her husband had sold his business and they had rearranged their life to accommodate this hostile addition to their family–illness.

Both of them had visions of their golden years–traveling in their RV, grandchildren, financial security, and lots and lots of leisure and fun. Hospitals, drugs, and pain was not what either had in mind.

To say that their sex life diminished is an understatement.

To say that sex doesn’t matter in the face of disease and pain is to not look at the whole situation. Sex does matter. It’s the one thing couples do together that they don’t “do” with anyone else. It’s a glue, a bond, a secret language, a healer of life’s wounds…to simply and biologically state it, sex is a needed release.

More magazine has an interesting article in September 09′s issue on this very subject. They state that 75% of all marriages that are dealing with chronic illness long-term end in divorce.

These aren’t shallow people. This isn’t Jon and Kate splashing their news on the headlines (not that they’re shallow, marriage is tough and I hurt for them and their children). These are quiet, hard working, family oriented people who  face surmounting, mind-boggling stress, heartbreak, financial ruin, unbelievable and unrelenting pain. And the one thing that can combat all this–their marriage and the healing powers of sex and intimacy–are taken from them.

How do couples get through caregiving and the strains it places on their marriage?

I observed my couple friends and this is what I’ve gathered.

You readjust.

You let go of what you thought life would be.

You dig deep to find your integrity.

 You find joy in the smallest of things. You find purpose as a caregiver.

You use your anger not at each other like weapons of mass destruction, but together, to get things done, to let off steam, to keep from going crazy…and you turn that anger into humor–maybe a little sick and twisted–but it keeps it from turning toxic inside you.

You do what you have to do to get by–and it’s nobody’s business. How you define sex may be different than other couples, and how and when you’re intimate may not fit the national average.

You get strong and tough and tender and real all at the same time.

I have no big answers here. It’s too complex and too gritty to give you bullet points–as if you could fire them on target and make it all instantly go away. What I have gathered from my friends and others I’ve seen going through years of what illness can do to a relationship is that the ones that make it create this circle of energy around themselves. They are one.

Couples who face caregiving challenges together have come through the fire, and on the surface, no, life didn’t turn out like they thought it would–but in many ways, it’s better. I witnessed it in my parent’s marriage.  The unity, the simplicity, the bond they have, they earned. You can see it in their eyes, they familiar gestures of thoughtfulness, the resolve in their voice. They have something profound.

~Carol O’Dell

Author, Mothering Mother

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Every day, a child’s mother, father, grandmother, grandfather or sibling dies.

Experiencing death while still a child is common, but that in no way makes it less difficult.

There are ways to help a child deal with grief.

When a child loses a loved one to death, that loss can have a profound effect that can even last a lifetime.

Emotional, psychological and physical trauma can occur and effect how a child views the world.

If grief is talked about and a child is given the proper coping tools, is surrounded by love and support, then the negative impact can be lessened.

But too often, adults are at a loss. They’re grieving themselves, and they don’t know what to say or do to comfort a child.

They don’t know how to tell a child that someone they love has died.

They don’t know how much to share with them–they either tell too much or too little.

Adults can simply “freeze” and stop communicating, and the child is left to grapple with their sorrow alone.

They can also insist that the child be happy and move on–because it makes them feel less guilty. They try to live life through their child–but children also have their ups and downs when it comes to grief. They can’t be puppets that we demand to be “okay,” because we need them to be.

Many people expect and demand that children are expected to go on with their lives.

They want them to hurry and go back to school. They don’t want them to get behind. How sad. Something as profound as a parent, sibling, or grandparent dying is so much more significant than an A in algebra.

Just days or even hours after a grandparent dies, many children are expected to return to school, sports and activities. Adults someone need the child to be busy so that they can deal with “adult” matters of business and details, but the child has his own grieving process to go through.

Children have so many issues to deal with–growing up, adolescence, fitting in, weight issues, pressure to smoke or smoke pot, divorce, family issues, academic and social issues–and it starts at a very young age.

When are they supposed to feel safe and free to open up and talk?

When can they express how much their miss their grandad?

How Do You Tell a Child That a Loved One Has Died?

Keep it simple. Use “died”, not “He is sleeping.”

Allow your child to express raw feelings freely or ask questions.

Answer questions honestly and simply. Do not go into detail, unless asked.

If the death was due to a violent crime, explain that they are safe now, nd you will do all you can to make sure they stay safe. 

Offer a comfort object–blanket, doll, teddy bear. Even if they’re “older,” something cuddly can reduce anxiety.

If the body is suitable for viewing, allow the child to see your deceased loved one, if requested. Prepare the child for what he or she will see.

Tell your child what will be happening in the next few days.

Give your child choices in what to do. Some children want to go to school the day of the death–it’s comforting and feels “normal.” Give them a choice. Whenever they return, inform the school of the death before your child returns.This makes their teachers and classmates more sensitive. Most schools have a school counselor that can also assist and be made aware of the situation.

Reassure your child that he or she will be cared for and explain the plan.

Children sometimes open up easier if they’re doing something with their hands–playing cars or helping bake cookies–it can take awhile for them to feel safe–and they feel less on the spot if they don’t have to look at you but can pretend to be “busy” with their hands.

 Don’t Know How to Talk To Your Child: Here’s some Easy Conversation Starters: 

 I’m sorry your grandmother/papa/mom/dad/sister died.

 What was your dad/mom/brother like?

Tell me about your__________. 

What was his favorite food/book/thing you did together?

 What do you miss the most? What is the hardest time of day for you?

I cannot know how you feel, but I remember how I felt when my __________ died.

 Whenever you want to talk about it, I’m here.

I’m thinking about you especially today because I’m aware that today is your mother’s birthday (anniversary of the death, your birthday, etc). 

If you don’t want to talk, we can still spend time together.

 

WORDS THAT CAN HURT:

I know just how you feel. I know just how you feel…my dog died last year. Lick your wounds and move on. You’ll get over it. It will be okay. Don’t think about it. You are better off without him. Don’t cry. It’s your fault. God took him so he wouldn’t be in pain. Tears won’t bring her back. Be strong. Forget about it. You are the man/woman of the house now. You should feel ….(proud, relieved, happy, sad, etc.)

Children May Express Grief Differently Tnan Adults:

Their emotions may experience highs and lows. They may laugh inappropriately–even at the memorial service. Don’t think this is because they don’t care. It’s difficult for a child to figure out how to handle their emotions. They may avoid sleep–or a teen may sleep all the time. They may zone out and not seem to hear anyone talking to them.

Become clingy and panic if you’re not home on time or don’t pick them up on time. Act rough or violent toward a sibling or friend. Defiantly disobey.

Teens may become daredevils–drive fast, extreme sports, breaking and entering–anything to feel “alive”

They may even try to “test” your love.

When Do You Seek Professional Help?

When the symptoms (lack of sleep, depression, agression) continue for weeks or months and grow in intensity.

When they can no longer function in school or around other people

When they isolate themselves for too long

When they become dangerous to themselves or others

They fixate on death, experiment on animals, or are exhibiting cruel behavoir

What do you do if you suspect your child or teen is not handling grief well?

Talk to the school counselor, your pediatrician, or clergy

Get a recommendation for a therapist who has helped children through grief.

Don’t settle for just a prescription. Talking and expressing their emotions is crucial to the healing process.

Don’t go just one or two times and think your child is “better.” Follow through and be consistent.

The Best Advice?

Be patient. Expect some some highs and lows. Share your own grief journey. Listen. Reassure. Be there. Provide help if or when it’s needed. Let them know it’s okay not to be able to handle this all by yourself–we all need each other. 

 

In the United States, approximately 4.8 million children under 18

are grieving the death loss of a parent.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother, available in hardback or on Kindle

www.caroldodell.com

Helpful sites:

www.opentohopefoundation.com

www.beyondindigo.com/children

www.griefnet.org

www.childrensgriefnet.org

www.kidsaid.com

I’m Carol O’Dell, author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir, available on Amazon. I hope you’ll visit my blog again.

www.mothering-mother.com

 

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Are you already hearing people cough and sneeze in the grocery store?

I am. It seems as if the cold and flu season has hit early, and older adults and people with chronic diseases are at the greatest risk of problems associated with the flu.

But what if your loved one has late-stage Alzheimer’s, dementia, ALS, or Lewy Body, they’re not exactly communicative–not in a helpful way, any way. 

How do you know if someone with a memory disorder or a speech problem is sick?

  • Look for change in behavior–are they more agitated? Less? Lethargic?
  • Look for skin changes–do they look flushed? Pasty? Change is the key word
  • Are their hands usually cold due to poor circulation–are they now warm and beet red? Or vice versa?
  • Try the kiss test–I can tell a fever by kissing their forehead or cheek–more than by the back of my hand
  • If you don’t go to the bathroom with them, you might need to–check for changes, smelly urine, diarrehea
  • Look at their tongue–does it look white?
  • Use a flashlight to look at their throat–do it to yourself first and let them look at yours
  • Are they like a little kid and pulling on their ears?
  • Are they making a great effort to swallow?
  • Does their abdomen look bloated? Will they let you press on it–is it tender?
  • Check their urine for a foul smell, cloudy, bloody, or low output–signs of infection or dehydration–both common in our elders. Check out my blog post, UTI’s Don’t Let Your Elder Suffer in Silence”
  • Do a full body check every few weeks–it’s easy to miss a broken bone when they can’t tell you it hurts

You need to take your mom or dad to get their flue shot, but as their caregiver,

you need one as well.

 Most caregiversdon’t have a lot of “back up” options–not the spur of the moment kind, the kind you can call because you’re running a 101 degree fever when you get up in the morning and your throat feels like a gravel road. So do all you can to prevent getting sick this winter.

So head to your doctor, your pharmacy, or wherever you read about is offering free to low cost flu shots and roll up your sleeve. You don’t want to be the carrier that brings it into your house.

Why are our elder so suseptible to colds and flus?

Because older adults have reduced cough and gag reflexes, which means the infection just sits and gets worse. They also have weakened immune systems that comes with age, and sometimes the medications they’re on, and that makes it harder for their bodies to fight flu complications such as pneumonia.

Did you know that of all age groups, those over 84 have the highest risk of dying from flu complications?

Second highest category? Those over 74 (which in many cases, are the spouse or caregiver). 

The next category are children, age 4 and younger. 

How can I tell if my loved one has the flu?

Obvious flu symptoms:

  • fever (usual)
  • headache (common)
  • tiredness and fatigue (can last 2 or 3 weeks)
  • extreme exhaustion (usual at the start of flu symptoms)
  • general aches and pain (often severe)
  • chest discomfort, cough (common and can become severe)
  • sore throat (sometimes)
  • runny or stuffy nose (sometimes)

Less obvious symptoms:

 Look for gastrointestinal problems that can accompany the flu?

Sometimes stomach symptoms, such as nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, may occur with the flu. But these gastrointestinal symptoms associated with the flu are more commonly seen in children.

What flu complications should older adults watch for?

Complications of flu for older adults may include the following:

  • pneumonia
  • dehydration
  • worsening of chronic medical conditions, including lung conditions such as asthma and emphysema and heart disease

It’s important for your elder to see your doctor immediately if you have any of these flu complications. They simply don’t have a strong enough immune system to effectively fight off the flu. 

How can older adults prevent getting the flu?

The best way to prevent the flu is to get an annual flu shot.

Because the flu viruses change each year, older adults need to get a flu shot each year.

According to the National Institute on Aging a flu shot for the elderly

has the following benefits:

  • reduces the risk of hospitalization by about 50%
  • reduces the risk of pneumonia by about 60%
  • reduces the risk of death by 75% to 80%

Where can older adults get a flu shot?

Visit http://www.flucliniclocator.org. Enter your ZIP code and a date (or dates) and you’ll receive information about flu shot clinics scheduled in your area.

Can older adults use the nasal spray flu vaccine?

FluMist is a nasal spray flu vaccine that contains a live flu virus. FluMist is not recommended for adults over age 49.

When should older adults get flu shots to prevent flu and flu complications?

The flu season can begin as early as October and last until May. It’s recommended that people get a flu shot in October or November so the body has a chance to build up immunity to the flu virus. It takes two weeks for the flu shot to start working. Still, if you miss the early flu shots, getting a flu shot in December is wise.

How is flu treated in older adults?

  • Get plenty of rest.
  • Drink plenty of liquids.
  • Ask the doctor or pharmacist before buying a new over-the-counter cold or flu medicine to make sure it won’t interfere with prescribed medicine.

Antiviral drugs are also available by prescription to treat the flu. The antiviral drugs must be used immediately upon having symptoms of flu. These drugs work by blocking the replication of the flu virus, thus preventing its spread. Antiviral medications for flu include:

  • Tamiflu (oseltamivir)
  • Relenza (zanamivir)

If antiviral drugs are taken within 48 hours after the onset of the flu, these drugs may reduce the duration of flu symptoms. Sometimes antiviral drugs can also be used for prevention if someone is exposed to a person with the flu. Talk to your doctor.

Are there warning signs with flu that older people need to watch for?

Call your doctor immediately if you have any of these signs and symptoms with the flu:

  • You have trouble breathing with flu.
  • Your flu symptoms don’t improve or they worsen after 3 or 4 days.
  • After your flu symptoms improve, you suddenly develop signs of a more serious problem including nausea, vomiting, high fever, shaking chills, chest pain, or coughing with thick, yellow-green mucus.
  • You become lethargic to the point of not being able to communicate
  • Your fever goes above 101 and does not respond to Tylenol or Advil
  • You become extremely dizzy and fall
  • You stop putting out urine–you can’t keep down any liquids and you become dehydrated

Being a caregiver means being alert–your elder could take a drastic turn for the worse. Pay attention to the warning signs, and when in doubt, call your physician.

Do all you can stay healthy and strong.

Take mega-doses of Vitamin C. Get your rest. drink your liquids, wipe your hands often when out in public with a disinfectant gel or spray. Take Zicam or other cold preventative at the first sign of a cold–and avoid people who are actively coughing or sneezing.

I’m Carol O’Dell–and I hope you visit this blog again.

And check out my book, Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

Carol O’Dell is a family advisor at www.Caring.com

www.mothering-mother.com

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Grieving is natural. It’s good for you. It’s necessary.

But can you take grief too far?

What is “too far?”

What’s right and necessary for one is dangerous for another.

I recently watched “Reign Over Me”about a man (played brilliantly by Adam Sandler–not his usual comedic role) who loses his wife and three daughters in the airplane crash of 9/11. The premise is that his best friend and college roommate (Don Cheadle, also brillant) recognizes him on the street, flags him down and they rekindle their friendship–only Charlie (Adam’s character) refuses to talk about his wife and children. When he’s confronted he panics and flips out. Both men ran prominent dental practices, but Charlie is no longer a dentist–his life had been altered by the death of his family.

This one of the most profound, thoughtful movies on grief I have ever seen. Whatever faults or unevenness it may have is due in part to the very difficult subject matter. It examines the role of friendship, how grief changes you, what you lose and what you gain, how you question everything, how everything and nothing has meaning, and how to ever so slowly begin again.

Charlie was not the same man after his family died. He couldn’t do the same things.

Is that you?

Also know that you begin to grieve even before your loved ones pass away. Caregivers, especially those who care for someone with Alzheimer’s and other long-term illnesses are grieving on so many levels. It can feel like you’ve been grieving for years before your loved one ever dies.

Some people can and need to go right back into their jobs and life after a tragedy. It makes them feel normal, safe, that life has some continuity and gives their life meaning. These are good reasons to keep on course, and if that’s what you need, what works for you, then don’t feel guilty or think you’re not showing the proper response of grief just because you can go on with you life.

No one should judge your grief.

I know people who don’t talk about their sorrows. Ever. Some, much, much later. Some show it in their actions. It varies, and that’s okay. Don’t think you’re heartless because you don’t “do it” in some expected way.

Grief is individual. Grief doesn’t have to look normal.

I won’t give the movie away (I do highly recommend it), but there comes a point in the movie when it implies, “Can you grieve too much?”

Does there come a point when it’s not healthy, or downright dangerous?

Yes. It can.

Depression, isolation, insomnia, drinking, and other risky behavior such as gambling, promiscuity, extreme and dangerous sports–you may experience any or all of these symptoms. It’s part of the process.

There is a biology to grief

Grief releases powerful chemicals in your body. The first, being shock. That’s to keep you alive during the event. That’s how people are able to survive car or plan accidents and get to a place of safety before their bodies begin to shut down. That’s how a mother can lift a car off her toddler even though she has a broken arm.

Grief also comes with many coping mechanisms. Sometimes we have to simply use every possible tool we have to get by–even when they’re not good for us. We have to exist before we can live again.

I’m not going to tell you because you can’t sleep without prescription meds that you’re grieving too much–or I’m not going to tell you just because you polish off a bottle of wine several nights a week that you’re ruining your life. At some point you might, but you may have to over-use, over-indulge to drown your pain–and you’ll have to find your way back out.

I asked a friend who had gone through a bad patch of grief and had done some pretty risky things why she thought she did them. They were out of character for her, and were downright unsafe.

She paused, and then said, ‘Because I could. Because I didn’t have anything to live for–so doing something dangerous or crazy didn’t matter.”

That’s what grief, hurt and sorrow can do to you.

It’s not that I’m suggesting that you should. Trust me. I’m not judging you if you are.

Sure, there are healthier ways to grieve–walks, talking with friends, professional help, journaling, support groups–but let’s face it, we don’t always and consistently do what’s good for us.

Some people, like Charlie in the film have to radically change their life.

I know one woman who sold everything, moved across the country and started working for habitat for humanity. I know another who is spending a year (that’s the plan as of now) in Belize surfing and taking odd jobs. I know another who person who after 9/11, sold his business and lived on a sailboat in the Caribbean for two years. I know another who after losing a child, has had four children in four years.

There’s no one right way to handle grief.

When do you know if you’ve taken grief too far?

  • You need to work and you can’t–and you don’t have an alternative way to live–(homelessness)
  • Alcohol, drugs or even prescription drugs are consuming you
  • You have no initiative or purpose–for years–even though you want to–and it doesn’t feel like you’re coming out of your fog, just stuck
  • You’re completely cut off from everyone (for a very long time) and it’s not working for you, it’s not because you’re content
  • You have repeated thoughts or attempts of suicide
  • Nothing brings you joy or comfort–and it’s been years
  • Your health is now at risk–obesity, forgetting to eat, not taking needed meds have begun to take a serious toll
  • A fixation has taken over–perhaps a fixation of your loved one, of death, or trying to contact them–whatever the fixation, it’s bordering on dangerous and hindering every day activities such as eating or sleeping or getting out. It’s easy to fall into this. You don’t mean to, it just sort of happens–but it’s the kind of thing you might need help getting out of.

Any of these can occur and you can still be okay, not great, but okay–still dealing with grief on your own terms.

But there’s also a line of delineation–when it’s not okay, it’s not part of the process, it’s a never-ending vortex.

How do you move past grief?

  • With help–meet with a grief counselor, one that’s trained and has seen hundreds of people who have had to deal with real tragedies–the journey is different when cataclysmic things have happened.
  • Be willing to go on medication, if necessary, and make sure you take it consistently and are monitored–we all need a little help at times
  • Look into your past back to another time of great hardship–what got you through? You have the keys to your own healing within yourself
  • Call a hotline if you need to
  • Go online and visit some great grief organizations where you can reach out privately in your own home–day or night–the Open To Hope Foundation is a wonderful resource for all kinds of grief–those who have lost a child, a parent, a spouse, those impacted by suicide, drugs, or violence. 
  • As difficult as it might seem, become a part of a small community–a church, a volunteer organization, a group of friends who meet regularly, a support group–ask to be accountable to someone. Go even though you don’t feel like it, have a hangover, a cold, a headache.
  • Be patient. You’ve been through a lot. Guilt, regret, longing can eat away at your life and your heart and your life may seem broken beyond repair. It’s going to take some time to even begin to get on your feet again.
  • Know that the human spirit is amazingly resilient. Although you cannot fathom it, your life can have meaning and a measure of joy again.
  • Be willing to eventually open to love again. For now, willingness is all that matters

The bottom line is if you want your life to change, you’re ready to reach out, but you just don’t know how, it’s time to ask for help. We all need help at times.

I hope that something I’ve said will comfort you and offer light.

I offer this prayer–to all who feel lost.

May that small sliver of hope

slide between the folds of your heart

May a breeze catch you by surprize and remind you

you are not alone

May you once again feel the warmth of a hand, the brush of a shoulder

Trust. Trust beyond reason. Beyond today. Trust.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

www.Kunati.com, Publisher

 

 

        

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Face it, times are tough.

Can you afford to stay in your own home? Are you well enough to manage everything on your own?

Are you recently widowed and wonder if living by yourself is such a good idea?

Are you a boomer or sandwich generationer wondering how to care for/pay for your kids, your parents and save for your own retirement?

You (or your elder loved one) might be the type of person who would rather live in your own home or with someone you know rather than move into a care facility. Besides, care costs are astronomical. Even with medicare and medicaid, there are still a lot of hidden and unexpected costs, not to mention how challenging it is to find a care facility where you enjoy the people and the staff and get the care you need and deserve.

There are many reasons why family caregiving is a great option–it’s easier to take care of your loved ones if they’re living with you, most people prefer being with or near family, you tend to get better care from relatives and close friends, and it’s cheaper.

No wonder 80% of the elderly population rely on family caregiving.

In today’s precarious economy, it might just be a necessity.

I know of several friends and neighbors who had lost their jobs due to downsizing, budget cuts, and forced (or high encouraged) early retirement. Gas is four dollars a gallon and I almost paid ten bucks for a two pound bag of cherries at the grocery store today. I told the cashier I wouldn’t be buying those, thank you very much.

The strapped economy is hitting everyone, particularly the elderly who have to have their meds, pay for rising electricity costs still get to their doctor appointments. These aren’t luxuries. Nursing home costs are staggering, and not all are covered my medicare and medicaid. On average, the daily cost ifor a care facility s $350.00 a day–and memory impaired units range from about $450.-700.00 a day. A day.

But moving in with your adult children might not be ideal either.

Most people want to remain independent for as long as possible.

How do you stay in your own home? 

Plan early. Look into www.aginginplace.org

Consider long term care, but make sure you go with a reputable company who will be in business and honor their contracts for years to come.

  • When you buy what you think will be your last home, consider city, driving distance, doctor’s, care facilities, and senior resources. Can you live there after you can no longer drive? Can you use a community van or are there taxis? Is your home/bedroom on the first floor? Can you manage the maintance of your house and yard? Plan, plan, plan.
  • Buy property and build a smaller house or a garage that could be converted for a caregiver or family member. It’s an investment you’ll get to keep–and when or if you need to sell, it’s only improved your property value.
  • Consder renting a room–to another senior and split certain home or home health care charges
  • Convert a garage or attic and rent to a relative or younger person. You might even consider rent in  in exchange for services–college age, divorcees, and many people would benefit from this arrangement as well as nieces or nephews just starting out in life
  • Build an apartment onto your home–or if you do move into your children’s home, build one onto theirs so you still have privacy and can come and go as you please
  • As time goes on, consider a small group home run by a licensed care worker who only takes in 4-8 persons–ususally, the charges are less although they can do less for you medically, so consider your health and medical needs in making this decision

How to Live with Family Members Without Hating Each Other

  • Establish rules up front–realistically know you’ll have differences and times when you need to talk honestly about what’s bothering you. Make sure you can sit down and do this knowing you’ll be heard and respected–and that you offer the same in return
  • Know that there will be a honeymoon time, aand a time of disillusionment when you wonder if you made the right decision–but also know that this too will pass
  • Accept that change is inevitable. Don’t pine away for what once was–embrace the now and choose to find the good in each day
  • Give each other privacy–still knock and be considerate of quiet, rest, and alone time
  • Be sensitive–if your loved one is acting odd, they might be going through something they can’t share or verbalize–there’s a time to be tender and patient with each other
  • Plan certain meals or times together–but don’t overdo it
  • Hire caregiving or chore help–don’t expect your family to do it all
  • Find ways to be needed and give. Help out–offer to do a consistent job
  • Try not to complain about your health or living conditions–everything may not be perfect, but it still might be better than your other choices
  • Refrain from commenting on their life choices–how they dress, where they go to church (or not), the state of their marriage–do more listening than advising
  • Make friends and connections, don’t rely on your family to be your everything
  • Smile, be easy to get along with, and show gratitude–it’s contagious, so maybe you’ll get some in return
  • If you do have an issue, don’t let it fester. Sit down, say your peace, have a possible solution in mind, and then deal with it and let it go
  • Eventually–about six months to a year after moving in together, you’ll begin to settle in but it may take up to two years for it to feel like home. You might feel lonely at times, lost and undefined.
  • Be sure to reach out to your new community–join a club, a senior citizen center or a church–make new friends–even if it’s hard or scary, it’ll be worth it. We all need friends.
  • Accept your place of honor and dignity–you hold a special place in the family, but you have to know that and own it first before anyone else does. Embody a sense of wisdom, confidence, and respect within yourself–others will begin to sense it when they’re around you.
  • Expect that at some point you’ll have a big fight or misunderstanding. Families do those kinds of things. It’s okay. Forgive each other. Be quick to say, “I’m sorry.” Laugh about it.  Even if there were yelling and pouting involved, so what? People act crazy at times. Who else can you act up with other than your family?

Family caregiving is part of who we are. No amount of money can buy love. If you’re blessed enough to have a brave enough family who are willing to be togehter, love and care for one another in one way or the other, be grateful.

I was a family caregiver. I brought my mother, who had Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s, into our home. We built her an apartment onto our home. She lived with us for close to three years. So I know what caregivers face. I know how hard at times, it could be–the physical work, the emotional undertow that gets kicked up, the strain of living together after years of running your own house. All this takes some getting used to.

It’s okay to be mad, hurt, or frustrated with a family member. Families are resilient. They know how to love fierce and forgive easily (or in some cases, eventually). As my friend and fellow author Cheryl Kaye Tardif says, “It’s not about how to live with your family without hating them–it’s about living with your family without killing them! You can hate all you want!”

Emotions come and go. Family committment runs deep.

Life changes and people aren’t perfect, but a family is a great thing to have.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother, available in hardback or on Kindle

www.caroldodell.com

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Do you need to be needed?

Carl Jung called it, “The Wounded Healer.”

Caregivers, whether they come by it willingly or are drug into their caregivingroles, become accustomed to being needed. It’s comforting  and satisfying to know that you have a purpose.

But what do you mean when you say, “wounded healer?”  Is that a bad thing?

Wounded healer is an archetypal personality type that psychologist Carl Jung used to describe the relationship between analyst and patient–why a person might go into the psychology/counseling field.

No, it’s not a bad thing. I’m not sure there would be firemen, doctors, nurses, pastors, or teachers if there life experiences hadn’t given them a reason to step into these professions–to give back or make a difference.

I know good and well I wrote Mothering Mother out of a sense of need. I needed insight and direction. I needed to know how to step into this new role as a daughter who cares for her mother. I needed to examine aspects of the soul, my beliefs, and the ramifications on my relationships.

What would caregiving do to me?

I couldn’t find the answer, so I had to write my way through.

Jung had some theories as to why people choose “needing” professions:

  • The wounded healing is consciously aware of his own personal wounds and can be empathetic toward the person in need. 
  • The care receiver/patient also possesses an “inner healer” he is unaware of, but it’s there to help guide him and lead him to wholeness. 
  • The care giver–and care receiver (wounded healer and patient) are a good fit for each other. They need each other, in many ways.
  • They intersect at that point of need and each derives something from their relationship or experience. 

Jung also noted that you have to be careful and make sure that this type of agreement or relationship remains a healthy exchange for both people. He referred tho this as depth psychology and cautioned that the caregiver could potentially have his old wounds reopened, or get caught in a vicious cycle. He also cautioned against the ego taking over and the caregiver getting hooked on the power or the needing and falling into an an inflated ego.

For most caregivers, I fear that you’ll wind up creating more and more “needing” scenarios and begin to only feel like yourself when someone is in need or crisis mode.

It’s a big let down after your loved ones passes or goes into a care facility. You feel useless. You thought you longed for freedom but you feel lost. Your days were defined for you and now…what do you do with yourself? Who are you if not someone who cares for others?

You like that you’re good at something. You’re proud of the fact that you’re a good organizer, that you can spout off medical jargon, that you’re the one everyone comes to for a diagnosis. You actually own your own copy of Grey’s Anatomy, and I don’t mean the DVD collection of McDreamy and McSteamy.

Jung derives the term “wounded healer” from the ancient Greek legend of Asclepius, a physician who in built a sanctuary at Epidaurus in order to treat others. Spiritual writer Henri Nouwen also wrote a book with the same title. The Greek Myth of Chiron is also used to illustrate the archetype of the Wounded Healer so this whole deal about being needed and what it does to you isn’t new.

Realize that you might have codependency tendencies.

What is codependency?

NIMH, the National Institute of Mental Health defines it as: “Co-dependency is a learned behavior that can be passed down from one generation to another. It is an emotional and behavioral condition that affects an individual’s ability to have a healthy, mutually satisfying relationship. It is also known as “relationship addiction” because people with codependency often form or maintain relationships that are one-sided, emotionally destructive and/or abusive.”

Oh, that’s not me. I’m not that bad. I’m not aiding an alcoholic or hiding an abuser.

Neither was I, but I did see aspects of control issues and “only I can make her happy” in my caregiving and even parenting years. A little of this stuff is toxic.

One book that changed millions of lives was Melodie Beattie’s Codependent No More. It brought this subject out of the counselor’s office and allowed lay people to analyze their behavior and seek help.

So how do you care give without taking it too far?

  • Be aware. Realize when you’ve tied your super-caregiver cape on, when you’re deriving more power or satisfaction out of your role than you probably should have–when you push others away or start to feel oddly territorial. Awareness is key.
  • Stop being so nice! Niceness is an illness. Do what’s right, not necessarily what’s nice.
  • Trust that what is right for you is right for those you love.
  • There is a time to extend yourself for others, but make sure there’s a cut off date.
  • If you are going to have to care giver for a long time, then make a plan so that your whole life and health and relationships aren’t derailed indefinitely.
  • Give up perfectionism. Allow others to help. Ask, demand help–and then accept it. If it’s difficult, then let one thing go at a time. Let one job be done by someone else for awhile–and go from there.
  • Ask a friend to be honest and let you know when you’re in “need to be needed mode.”
  • Laugh at yourself when you “do it again.” Don’t use this as another thing to feel guilty about. Break it down into manageable chunks.

It comes with the territory, but it’s not all bad news.

Recent studies on happiness says that people derive more joy out of being needed and having purpose than they do out of having money. Happiness seems to be based on treasured experiences, spirituality, a sense of family, and meaningful work. It’s also lowest during mid-life when you thought if you worked hard enough, made enough money, and raised decent kids, you’d be happy–suddenly you realize that while maybe you got some of that, much of life is beyond your control. You have to dig deeper, look beyond life’s trappings to find a deeper sense of joy.

So see? If you just don’t go crazy with this needing thing, it could actually be good for you. Caregiving certainly has aspects of experiences, purpose, family, and spirituality.

Balance, grasshopper. Balance.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Check out my book on Amazon: Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

www.mothering-mother.com

Syndicated blog at www.hopethrives.org

Family advisor at www.Caring.com

 

 

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Last night, the television show Boston Legal had one profound moment relating to Alzheimer’s.  

The premise is that one of their leading characters, Denny Crane (played by William Shatner) has early Alzheimer’s. He’s a brilliant attorney who has never lost a case–and he’s part owner in firm. The other law partners are hesitant for Denny to continue to litigate. Not only is he forgetful, he sometimes does or says bizarre things. Things Alzheimer’s patients might say or do.

Great scenario because I happen to know a great law professor from Yale who lives in my community who now has Alzheimer’s. You can be homeless and live under a bridge–and have Alzheimer’s, AIDS, or cancer–or you can be the president of the United States.

At one point, Alan, Denny’s best friend is having a conversation with Jerry, another lawyer in the firm, (who suffers from Asperger’s syndrome) about what a phenomenal job Denny did in court. Jerry blurts out, “Too bad Denny’s dying from Alzheimer’s.”

Alan is shocked. Insulted. He retorts:

“Denny’s not dying from Alzheimer’s. He’s living with it.”

There’s a great distinction here.

One of the drawbacks to early diagnosis is giving up too soon.

Early detection should mean that you receive proper medication, spend time with your loved ones, and make plans to live–not die.

In the case of Alzheimer’s, the average patient lives 8-10 years, and even longer depending on the age you contract this disease. Parkinson’s, ALS, MS, and other diseases can even offer a longer lifespan. Coincidentally, the average caregiver spend 4.3 years caregiving–leaving a bit of a discrepancy here.

The message is: don’t give up too soon.

Don’t hear a diagnosis and go home, draw the curtains, curl up in a fetal position and wither away.

As a family member or caregiver, it’s a blow to hear that your loved one has a terminal illness, but you still have to get up and face each day.

Michael J. Fox says that Parkinson’s is “the disease that keeps on taking.” He’s chosen to live with his disease. He’s chosen to do this for the millions who look to him and rely on him to raise money for research, for the difference he’s already made, but I’m sure he does this even more for his wife and his children.

A recent example is Ted Kennedy’s diagnosis of a malignant brain tumor. He had a seizure and went into the hospital just last weekend. Yet today, he and his wife, Vicki went sailing. He loves sailing and the Boston Globe said he “finds renewal on the water.”

Ted Kennedy is actually teaching his family and others how to treat him. The Chicago Tribune wrote, “Kennedy’s cancer is dire, not hopeless.”

It’s proven that prayers and good thoughts can impact people’s lives clear across the country–and we can create the atmosphere and attitude around us by how we handle our own bad news.

Maya Angelou says, “We teach people how to treat us.”

Yes, it’s natural to feel kicked in the gut.

It’s natural to take to the bed, cry, get angry, lash out or pull in. Don’t beat yourself up for going through this very natural stage.

But after that, it’s time to move on.

You (or your loved one) most likely won’t die tomorrow. Or the next day.

So you take your meds, maybe get physical or occupational therapy. Change things around in your home, hire a home health aide, buy a walker or scooter or whatever else you need. Life is different. I don’t doubt that. But life can still be good.

You can still find joy–and purpose.

Sometimes our purpose is nestled in our situation. Sometimes something–or someone arises in our midst and a window opens where a door shut.

Yet, there will come a time–hopefully in the distant future when the tide turns again.

You, or your loved one may die from this disease, I can’t promise you won’t. 

If not, from something else.

We have to eventually accept that as well. Another transition. Another acceptance. Another change.

But until then, live, live, live, live, live.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Check out her book, a day-to-day, intimate and honest look at caregiving…

Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

www.kunati.com/mothering

 

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Rattles

Mother has what they call the death rattle.

Every time she takes a breath there’s a rattle. Technically it’s congestive heart failure—the fluid around her heart is building up and her body can’t process it, so it’s filling up in her lungs.

I remember when Mother said she had a little kitten in her chest when she’d get bronchitis. She always was funny.

I keep going back to this book, How We Die, by Dr. Sherwin Nuland. It’s been my Bible lately. He’s guided me these past few months with his insight and depth into not only the process of death but its ramifications for the living as well. There’s so little out there on how to do this. I need to know the physical side in order to grapple with the emotional and physical aspects of how to be with a loved one as she leaves this earth.

When I go to hold Mother’s hand or lift it, it’s lifeless. It may be warm, but it’s deflated the way Daddy’s was after he died. Dehydration has caused her skin to pucker and gather over blue and swollen veins. I wipe each hand with a warm cloth. I wipe her neck and chest, her cheeks and eyes, ears and hair.

It must feel good to her. It feels good to me.

No one’s here and that’s the way I like it, to be able to wander in and out as I need to, to pray, cry, talk, sing, and leave the room when I can’t take it any more. I turn on the TV and hope for something funny, anything funny. I ramble down to the river and write, but I’m too anxious to sit and go back in. I’m going to take a bath. I haven’t made any calls today. 

Everyone’s just going to have to wait. I’ve done quite a bit.

I just want to be quiet and let it happen, not make it happen.

(Excerpt from Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir) 

This is what it’s like at the end. You don’t fight when the death rattles come. It sounds like an old-fashioned, out-of-date term, but it fits.

When I first heard of the death rattles, it was probably from some scary movie and it conjured up all kinds of terrible things. It wasn’t easy, sitting there, not “doing” anything. It was a time of being. Not doing.

In some ways, it’s a good sign. It’s a sign to let go. It’s a sign to stop fighting. To sit quiet, to kiss, ask forgiveness, and say good-bye. 

It’s nothing to be afraid of. When it comes, it comes. When it’s here, you’ll know what to do.

 I cleaned out mother’s room–made it less cluttered. Called her relatives and told them it would be soon. I began to make plans for her memorial. Gather pictures to make into a collage and presentation. I was over fighting death. It was time to allow the transition.

The death rattle also refers to a gurgling sound that comes with the last breaths, or even the sounds after death that the body produces–it’s the fluids that have built up in the lungs, throat and body cavities. It’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s just biology. We as a modern society know so little about death and dying and grieving that we’ve made things scarier than they need to be. We have so little experience being human–and sharing in this most sacred event.

Nothing and no one can prepare you for this day. You think you’ll panic or run, but you won’t. You’ll be too tired and too numb to get too worked up. You’ll also know it’s time and you’ll want to be there. If you have to run, that’s okay. No one should judge you. This isn’t a bravery contest.

The machines are usually turned off at this point, food and meds have stopped and those who need to say good-bye have come and gone–or stayed. All the fuss is over.

 It’s not about giving up as much as it’s a time of giving in.

 You’ll be grateful that your loved one’s suffering is almost over.

You’ll be grateful that as heart wrenching as it is, that you’re there–witnessing this most holy event. 

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother, available in hardback or on Kindle

www.caroldodell.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

 

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There’s a new kind of caregiver out there.

She (or he) is a savvy caregiver, isn’t a martyr, and doesn’t look defeated (all the time).

She (I use the feminine pronoun to apply to everyone) has her act together (in some respects) and isn’t going to let her life and her plans be completely derailed–and yet she loves her family, her elders, her children, and embraces the fact that she’s an integral part of their life.

How does she do it all?

It’s not about being perfect.

In part, it’s about being prepared, looking at the big picture, and then breaking down the day-to-day components into manageable bites.

It’s also about choosing to care-give.

This isn’t a passive thing–and yes, it may have come to you sideways, unexpected or by default, but you didn’t have to say yes. Everyday people place their family members in care facilities, sometimes out of necessity and sometimes by refusing to give them any level of care.

Realize that you are choosing to care-give. That sense of choice also provides you with purpose and direction. It means you’re not a victim.

Preparedness (Boy Scouts, move over) and How to Care-give Not to Kill Yourself

  • She’s (the healthy caregiver) gathered the necessary info and has it at her fingertips–Living Wills (The Five Wishes is the one I highly suggest) DNR orders, if necessary, insurance info and numbers, notes made about recent doctor appts. or hospitalizations, and medicine info.
  • She uses her calendar and to-do lists efficiently, but she’s not a robot. Some days you chuck it all and love on the person who needs it the most (that may be yourself).
  • She has her down days, her pajama days, and she knows that balance isn’t about doing a little every day–sometimes there are seasons–seasons of quiet, seasons of chaos, and seasons of grief.
  • She’s learned not to let every little thing rial her. She’s experienced enough in life to know what’s worth freaking out about (which is very little) and what isn’t (which is most everything else).
  • She listens, repeats back what is said (to a loved one or to a doctor) so that she understands clearly. She takes notes if it’s important or could be necessary later.
  • She can shut it all off and be a woman, get a mani-pedi, be silly and play Prince in the car and sing to the top of her lungs. She doesn’t get sucked into being an elder or being a teen just because she happens to spend a lot of time with either (or both).
  • She prioritizes. Sometimes a home-cooked meal is soothing and rattles her nerves. Sometimes it’s pizza night. She laid down the “shoulda’s, woulda’s, and coulda’s.”
  • She has a great support team–friends to call and gripe to, a gynecologist or family doctor who’s looking out for her, knows the stress she’s under and can monitor her well-being. She relies on her faith, her heart, her circle of support and doesn’t try to go it alone. She considers herself a part of a team and shows a heart of gratitude.
  • She asks for and accepts help. She isn’t interested in being super woman or perfectionist woman. She’s willing to get help and seeks out competent care.
  • She knows she’s vulnerable to stress, so she’s devised a meditation time and exercise time she can manage–it may be only a few minutes a day, but it keeps her sane.  She’s found her own spirituality.
  • She continues to improve her own life–she takes an on line class, a yoga class, is learning how to knit–something that keeps her mind active and learning.
  • She utilizes the internet, finds help, information, and forums that help support her and her caregiving experience.
  • She can see past tomorrow–she knows that caregiving isn’t forever–and she has her own personal plan to move on with her life.
  • She gives herself permission to “lose it” every once in a while–sometimes things just go in the crapper and that isn’t a reflection of her, it’s just life. If she bites someone’s head off, forgets an appointment, bounces a check, she admits her faux pas and lets it go.
  • She values her marriage/intimate relationship and allows sex and intimacy to heal her. Even when she’s exhausted, she finds and asks for ways to connect.
  • She enjoys caregiving–even with all its craziness, caring for a loved one is a privilege. She finds ways to incorporate everyday pleasures to share with her care partner–bird watching from a bedroom window, stopping for ice cream on the way back from the doctor.
  • She takes the time to hold hands.
  • She’s strong enough to make the touch choices, to not be popular, to figure out how to get a doctor, care staff to understand where she’s coming from–and she’s brave enough to know that when death comes, she may be asked to make critical end-of-life decisions, decisions others may disagree with.
  • She’s not afraid of Alzheimer’s or Parkinsons and doesn’t give up in the cruel face of whatever disease her loved ones face. If they forget who she is, she’ll remember for them. If they become uncontrollable, she gets help and doesn’t take it personal.
  • She knows that she may not always be able to do this–and she’s explored other options. She isn’t going to wreck her health or her marriage. She’s planning for those changes now.
  • She knows that caregiving will take her to the bitter edge, and she’s got to figure out how regain the parts of her that get lost in the mix. She knows how hard this is, or will become, but there’s a thread that’s pulling her along, a thread will lead her out and will allow her to continue her journey once caregiving is over.

The new kind of caregiver isn’t a super-mom or super-daughter (or super-son).

They’re real people loving their families. It’s realistic. It’s not martyristic.

The world may not understand the “sacrifices” as some might call them that caregivers (plain ole’ family) makes, but those who have been there understand the love and loyalty that comes in tow.

You don’t do all these things at once, so don’t try to measure up.

You don’t do them to impress anybody.

This is survival. This is how to care-give and not kill yourself in the process.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

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