Just doing

If I were going to write a theme for this day, the first day of Memorial Day weekend, I would say it is a get through it day.

Mom is going to be sitting in her apartment all day suffering with the pressure sore on her butt that never seems to stop being sore. All of the trips to the bathroom (AKA the 'commode' sitting two feet away from her), followed by all the wiping and washing, followed by more chafing, don't help.

I am so used to hearing her complaints and tears that on some days, like today, this all becomes 'information.' I am temporarily drained of the ability to have an emotional response. The human side of me wants to come up with a reason for this pressure sore problem. Who is at fault? Did she sit too much back when she was able to stand and even walk? Did somebody -- maybe even me -- not push her hard enough? Was it not treated aggressively enough when it first developed.

Or maybe this is the next step in the journey. Today, I'm too drained to do anything more than do my duty and monitor her, and listen, and just keep doing.

watching myself

Sometimes it helps me to stand back and watch my reactions as if I was holding a video camera.

This morning, my mom was crying because the nurse's aide didn't bring her any coffee for breakfast. Between my mom's tears, and my immediate rush of frustration at yet again hearing something that I can't do anything about, I could see that already my day was not getting off to a positive start. I asked my mom why she didn't tell the nurse's aide that she needed coffee. I mean, come on. I had to hold back on not asking this question with an edge in my voice. After all, my mom forgets things, and she doesn't need me jumping on her.

At the same time, I realized that, three days running, the home health service hasn't called me back to tell me how her pressure sore is looking, if it is healing at all.

No, not a good way to start the day. I took a mental step back and watched myself, this guy standing in the middle of his apartment trying to have a conversation with his mom, who has trouble making herself heard over the phone, and feeling the weight of the world, or at least his world, on his shoulders. I also saw a guy who is trying to do his best, but isn't in control, and can't make everything perfect.

I took a few deep breaths. No, I didn't hyperventilate. I told my mom I would ask the facility to remind the nurse's aides that she needs coffee in the morning, and gently reminded my mom that she can ask for what she needs. And I'll call the home health care service again. They are doing the best job they can do, too.

Who's in charge?

When you're caring for someone, things come up that really piss you off. They don't respond to something that you've done for them. Or the respond by complaining. The people who shold also be helping let you down. Or just when you think you have everything under control, something else goes wrong.

One of the most important lessons from these situations is that, while somebody should be in control -- hopefully you as the caregiver -- nobody is in control. The randomness of life, which brought this situation into the life of your loved one and, in turn, into your life, goes on. On and on and on with the randomness. If you think you can stop what's going on, or otherwise fix it, you're gonna stay pissed off.

I remind myself over and over that I'm not in control. I don't always like to be reminded of this.

And I comfort myself by reminding myself that I don't have to be in control.

I try to take each day as it comes, and put out each fire the best way that I can. And since I don't have to be in control, I also try to enlist others to help out.

Today, before I comforted myself with the reminder that I don't have to control everything, I released the F bomb into the universe a few times. That, too, was comforting.

Launching Zencaregiving

If I wasn't so exhausted, I would try to write something really eloquent and glib. But it is Sunday night, I am trying to catch up on all of the work that I didn't get to do this weekend because I was taking care of my mom.

But nevertheless, it is May 16, 2010 and I am officially launching Zencaregiving, my blog. Hopefully, this will soon be followed by a very scaled down Website... you guessed it... zencaregiving.com.

But like I said, I am physically and especially, emotionally, drained after the weekend. Someone said, 'I don't know how you do it.' And I answered that I don't think about how I do it, I just do it. There are no heroes here. We do what we do for someone we love.

Somebody else said (and I am so tired of this phrase): 'It is what it is.' It made me wonder how so many people suddenly became Zen Buddhists and don't even know it and certainly wouldn't want to hear it. It is what it is, and it's what we wish it wasn't but it is.

More papers to grade, miles to go before I sleep.