Tag Archives: Caregiving

Stroke of genius?

Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,

I called my 86 year old Mom for help.

“Hey, Mom, I need a picture of your cabin in Canada.”

“Okay,” she said, “come over and get it.”

“No,” I told her, “I want you to get it off your computer, and email it to me.”

“Oh, ummm….where is that?”

“Where is your computer?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. Where is the picture on my computer?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you?”

Maybe I did have to go over there and get it.

“Okay, let’s start at the computer. Are you on your iPad or your desktop?”

“Let me go to the big computer, the picture has to be on there because your

In folder marked "Canada"
In folder marked “Canada”

brother-in-law made it my screensaver.”

I hear her sneakers tweak around the kitchen floor, her bedroom door makes a little squeak as she opens it, and the whirr of her desktop hums through the phone line as she boots up.

“Okay, now what do I do?” she asks matter-of-factly. She calmly clicks on all the buttons I direct her to. We get all the way to the photos stored on her desk top and we are at an impasse.

“Mom, do you know where the photo is stored? Like, what folder is it in?”

“Well, I guess it’s in the one marked ‘Canada’, does that sound right?”

“Just try it. See if it’s in there.”

For some reason, I don’t hear any computer buttons clicking on the other end of the line. Silence, with a little breathing is the only sound coming through.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing? I thought you were looking in the file marked ‘Canada’. Did you find it?”

Now she’s exasperated. Technology has won again. She is frustrated and annoyed, and I have no idea why.

“Ugh….I have been waiting and waiting for the keyboard to come up so I can look for the picture.”

“Wait…what? I don’t know what…..Wait….are you on your iPad or your computer”

“I’m on the computer. I told you that’s where the picture probably is.”

I realize that this octogenarian is trying her best to be in the 21st century. She has willingly taken on a desktop and an iPad. She puts up with her children trying to train her like an organ monkey over the phone, and sometimes it’s just too many things to remember. Plus naming every button as a “square thingy that looks like a tv,” or a “the blue e thingy,” usually ends up with a trip to Mom’s house anyway.

” Um….Mom, look down at your fingers, there’s your keyboard. It doesn’t come up on the screen like the iPad. You’re using the actual keyboard.”

“Oh.”

We both burst out laughing. She does indeed send the picture.

Caregivers need to give credit where credit is due and…..

“You just have to Laugh….”

©2014 Cathy Sikorski

What’s at steak??????

Caregivers, Humor, Multiple Sclerosis, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , ,

In the last four months, my brother-in-law has lost somewhere between 25 and 30 pounds. That may seem like a lot, especially for those of us who have been fighting those last damn 10 pounds for years, but it has been a blessing.

He now has lost so much of his Buddha belly that he can actually turn himself a bit from side to side. This is a spectacular advancement in the world of MS and bed sores because he may now be able to spend more time in his electric  wheelchair and less time confined to bed to protect his skin from breaking down.

He, on the other hand, sees that he has been subject to lousy food and a Spartan diabetic diet.  Now, it is kind of hard to point out the beauty of lousy food and a Spartan diet. So after much praise for his ability to scooch around (yes, I do believe that is a medical term), I researched the possibility of getting some fun back onto his food tray.

He is still in rehab for a few weeks to get stronger from wound repair surgery, so I must get permission to adjust his diet. And I do. Everyone agrees his blood sugar is exemplary and he can have sugar instead of sugar substitute. His blood pressure is also stellar, so he can have salt again as well. Hip, hip hooray.

I take this as a sign that I can ‘bring’ him a special meal of his own choosing at least once a week. It’s actually getting to the point where I’m concerned that he might loose too much weight and then we have another problem. I know, the “oh you’ll get too skinny” story is usually baloney, but he has taken refusing bad food to new heights….and I don’t blame him. In fact, he would welcome baloney, but they don’t serve that…too salty.

So, as we live in the Philly area, I brought him his favorite naughty meal. It was a cheesesteak hoagie with hot peppers. That means there were condiments such as fried onions, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise all slathered on that sandwich. He ate every single bite, picked the stray onions, peppers and tomatoes off the hoagie paper, and wiped his mustache with glee.

When the aide came in for his institutional food tray and it looked like he hadn’t touched a bite, I debated whether to confess. Ah…what the hell……….

“I brought him a cheesesteak.”

“Well, good for him,” said the aide. “I don’t think one person ate today’s dinner. It was that bad.”

“So our secret is safe with you?”

“What secret?”

Sometimes you find partners in crime in the best and most unexpected places.

“You just have to Laugh….”

© 2014 Cathy Sikorski

 

You’re the Boss, Applesauce….Andy Warhol

Uncategorized, , , , , ,

My mother-in-law, Marie, thought I was as cool as Bruce Springsteen.  A few years ago, in one of her long stints at the hospital, the social worker arrived in her room and quickly began her assessment of the situation.

“Marie,” she demanded, “do you know what day it is?”

“No,”  Marie truthfully answered. Marie was in her 90’s and loving her assisted living facility. Every day came and went like it was Tuesday or Saturday, or who-the-hell-cares day.

“Well,” the highly trained professional asked, “do you know who the President is?”

Okey dokey….now I jumped in.

“Is this really necessary?” I wondered while looking the social worker straight in the eye.

“Well, I need to know if she’s oriented to space and time.”

You’re not oriented to space or time if you’re thinking an elderly woman from a facility is keeping up with current events.

“Ask her questions she knows the answer to, if you’re trying to find out if she’s in any way conscious.”

“Well, okay.” She turned to my mother-in-law and pointed to some of the other people who were visiting in the room.

“Who is that, Marie?”

“That’s my son, Ted.” Correct.

“And who is that lady next to him?”

“That’s his wife, Judi.” Also correct.

Then pointing to me: “And who is that lady there?”

“Her?” And Marie pointed to me as well.

“Yes, that lady?”

“Oh, that’s the Boss!”

Boom!

I have become legendary. Last week in my brother-in-law’s room the social worker came in to ask some questions.

“What day is it?”

“Truthfully,” he said, “I don’t give a shit.” Score 1 for the ill and infirm.

“And who is this with you today?” she asked him, pointing in my direction.

“Oh her? Yeah, watch out for her, that’s the Boss!”

“You just have to Laugh….”

© 2014 Cathy Sikorski

A Gentleman is simply a patient wolf…..Lana Turner

Caregivers, Humor, , , , , , , ,

A while ago, I commented on how, at least in the senior community, I felt like quite a catch (I still got it…sort of… ) I learned yesterday, that in those same communities, I’ve got quite a bit of competition.

As the winner of a basket of cheer at a local assisted living facility, I was invited to take a tour and claim my prize. For those of us in the writing profession, this was the mother lode: two huge coffee mugs, two pounds of coffee, flavored creamers, Starbucks Frappuccinos and European biscuits.

My daughter was home for a visit, so she went along for the ride. While we were waiting for the tour guide, a beautiful 81 year old resident stood behind the sofa, greeted us warmly and chatted all about how she loved her new living space. Jane entertained us for 20 minutes with her life story, the benefits of assisted living, and smarmy little secrets about her fellow residents.

A lovely blue eyed blonde aide appeared by Jane’s side and joined us in our lively chit-chat. Then Dr. H came along in his walker. Jane was compelled to tell us he was a physician and very brilliant.  Our blonde friend had a different take on the matter.

“Watch out for Dr. H,” she said, “he likes to grab your butt.”

“Well, yes, dear,” said Jane, “that’s true, but he’s not nearly so obnoxious as Karl.”

The aide scooted around the other side of Jane to get as far away from Dr. H as possible. With that, the good doctor comes over and tells us:

“I’ve been around a long time, but I’m never too old or too busy to appreciate a beautiful woman.”

A collective groan reverberated from all the women in the lobby…..of which there were about ten of us. Ugh.

The aide backs out of the room and Dr. G. follows her as fast as he can, but the walker just can’t keep up with the runner.

My daughter, who is in her twenties, can’t quite fathom that this is her plight well into her octogenarian years, turned to Jane and says: “So what’s the deal with Karl?”

“Oh, most of these men are harmless, even though every one of them is a dirty old man. But Karl, yes, dear you really have to watch out for him. I tell all the new ladies to stay a good distance from Karl.”

“But how much harm can he do in here?” said my daughter.

“Well, it’s like I tell all the residents. Don’t be so stupid and go into his room by yourself. He lures you in there and then he sticks his hand up your shirt. I can’t believe these girls would be so dumb as to go into his room.”

And there  you have it. We all still got it, even if we don’t want it.

“You just have to Laugh…..”

© 2014 Cathy Sikorski

 

Does your right hand really know what your left hand is doing?

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, , , , , , , , ,

A million and one times, caregivers are told “take care of yourself,” “take time for  yourself,” “you’re going to have to put yourself first.” All of this great advice theoretically has benefit, but putting it into practice can backfire.

My Mom is a 45 year old in an 85 year old body. She is my right hand with much of my caregiving responsibilities. So when I had to include her in my caregiving queue, it was not only distressing but a bit of a last straw.

The first time it happened she broke her hip….no….she corrects me every time…she did NOT break her hip like some old lady. She fell while power walking and broke her femur at the top near the hip. While in rehab, Mom worked like a trained monkey to get out of there. But I still had to bring her laundry to rehab, go and check on her, help take care of her bills and her home, etc. As caregiving goes, it was one of the easier gigs.

Two years later, she needed a caregiver when she went to her cabin in Canada and within hours of arrival, she fell and broke her arm. She forced my brother to drive her  eight straight hours back to Pennsylvania for medical care because she didn’t want to get stuck in a Canadian hospital .

This time I was already inundated with caregiving for my brother-in-law, my mother-in-law and my friend who had recently experienced a traumatic brain injury.

My mother basically has 8 children. I put my foot down. I called a family  meeting and told my sisters (yeah the smart brothers lived far away) that I was not going to be the go-to person this time. I live the closest to my mother, but the rest of my sisters live within 15 or 20 minutes.  My oldest sister, Tina agreed to be the daily coordinator. All my other sisters divvied up the jobs of grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, bathing assistance, etc.  Doctor appointments and pharmacy runs would be done as needed. Any mission that was not set in stone would require a call to Tina, who would either do it herself or ask someone to help.

My go-to Girl!
My go-to Girl!

 

My mother attended this caregiver summit. She understood everyone’s mission and consulted the chart of who was coming when. Since Mom had been assisting me with all the other people on my caregiving list, she was well aware of the time and energy commitment a caregiver puts out.

The last thing I said to her was, ‘if you need anything, you call Tina first. She will make sure it gets done pronto.”

The first week my Mom was home, I was so busy I barely noticed a week went by.  Day 8 my mother calls me:

“Hey, Mom, how are you? Is everything going ok?”

“Yes, everything is pretty good. I’m feeling good and I can do more than I expected. The doctor said I can’t drive for 6 weeks, but we will see about that.”

“Ok, we’ll see, but don’t do anything crazy.”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling you. I wanted to know if you would take me to the grocery store.”

Now normally, I would just say, “sure”, or ask what she needed so I could pick it up for her. But some little devil sat on my shoulder and shouted, “TINA.”

“Aren’t you supposed to call Tina?”

“Well, I didn’t want to call her because she lives so far away and you’re just around the corner.”

Through gritted teeth,  I said, “I’ll call you right back.”

And then I called Tina.

Don’t ever think that anyone, even your right arm, really understands caregiving. Which is why……

“You just have to Laugh….”

©2014 Cathy Sikorski

 

 

 

Caregiving is Coconuts!

Caregivers, Humor, , , , ,

I was lucky enough to be asked to podcast all my fabulousness on the Happiness Recipe radio podcast!
Please, dear readers, give these great gals a shout out and check out our fun day talking about caregiving comedy and coconut cake. What could be better? Click below for a start to a Happy Monday!

Confessions of a Serial Caregiver at The Happiness Project

 

Caregiving blows hot and cold….

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, Multiple Sclerosis, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

I’m entrenched in the rehab cycle right now. Many days to the rehab center every week are required to watch the progress of my brother-in-law, keep an eye on his care, and to make sure he’s behaving like a human being to the overworked, understaffed people running around trying to please everyone, and pretty much pleasing no one.

The very first day he entered rehab,in the dead of summer, he wasn’t there two hours and protesting royally about the heat. Now, MS sufferers really do need to be temperate. So his complaints were absolutely legitimate. To my amazement, the staff relocated him immediately to a bed where he would be next to the window and air-conditioner.

His first two roommates complained bitterly because they were freezing. My loved one had the thermostat at 60 degrees because he was alternately too hot and too cold. Ya’ think?

But the third roommate hopped on board with my brother-in-law, lickety split. They conferred daily, maybe even hourly, about how freakin’ hot it was in their room. The good news was that one guy wasn’t bundled in a sweat suit and blankets, while the other was half naked in a hospital gown embarrassing anyone who walked down the hall and peeked in mistakenly.

Flat Stanley in PA
What they want it to feel like

Every time I entered their room, the two gentlemen of Verona were commiserating about the unseemly state of the weather in their room. No matter how many times I reset the air conditioner, it wasn’t cold enough……for them. Meanwhile, anyone on the staff who was in  menopause was hanging out in their room to cool off.

By the third day of this, I was at my wit’s end trying to make these two guys happy. The only saving grace was they were enjoying the mutual complaint department. Sort of an “us against them”, giving rehab a fun kind of flavor.

Yesterday morning I entered their room and noticed that the staff had pulled the curtains closed during the night. The curtains were romantically billowing in the window forcing  the air conditioner to blow all the cold air straight up to the ceiling. I went to the window to draw open the curtains and let the cold air directly into the room. That was when I noticed the window panes had quite a bit of condensation. Looking closer, I saw the window was actually open. In fact, both windows were open. Open.

All night long, the July heat was drifting in through the open windows, allowing all the humidity to circle around and settle on their hot sweltering bodies. Ugh. Really? Someone came up with this idea as a way to cool these guys off?  I closed the windows. I asked the gentlemen to tell the staff to keep the windows closed.

The roommate quickly informed me that he thought the open windows constituted a good idea. It would allow circulation and air into the room at night. This logic reminded me of my mother-in-law.  Every time she left the house in tropical heat, she turned off the air conditioner. We told her she might as well turn off the refrigerator every time she left the house too, as that logic goes.

I return the next morning and the condensation is just waiting for me to put “Cathy was here” on the window.

Okay, so … I give up…..

“You just have to Laugh….”

Cathy Sikorski

 

 

 

 

 

It’s Electric!

Uncategorized, , , , ,

I have a great bunch of gals in my book club. Everyone of them is in or has been in some stage of caregiving. What are the odds? Really high, actually.

With permission, I’m repeating a story one of my book club buddies relayed at lunch.

We finally released my mother from rehab a few weeks ago. She relies on oxygen now for easier breathing. At 93, she conceded to use a wheelchair most of the time, as she has trouble with her legs and her balance. Sleeping has eluded her for years, so I am watchful most nights, worrying about her wandering. Any night that we all get sleep is a grace from God.

Out of the blue, I get a call from the electric company:

“Ma’am, this is the electric company.”

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Our grid is showing that you have a dangerous connection in the street outside your home. We need to come check that and repair it if necessary.”

“Okay, we’re here most of the time. When can you come?”

“We will be there tomorrow at 2.”

I’m thinking: Wow, tomorrow? That’s really efficient. Either this is a bigger problem than I think or this electric company in New Jersey is so much better than the one where I live in Pennsylvania.

Tomorrow arrives (even though some say it never comes) and so does 2:00. And then 2:30. And then 3:00 . You guessed it. They never show up. I chalk this up to just another utility, service call, cable company, washer repair man….you name it, not showing up like they said they would.

Since they initiated the call, I figured they would get back to me some time.

At 1:30 A.M. the phone rings at my mother’s house. I jump up to answer it so that it doesn’t wake my miraculously sleeping mother and the hired caregiver we have to help at night.

“Hello, ma’am?”

“Yeeeesssss?????” I say, barely cognizant to have a conversation.

“This is the electric company. We are outside your house and need you to go throw the main switch in your basement to turn off all your electric so we can work on the problem out in the street.”

Okay two things here:

1. Really? 2 A.M.???

2. Of course that’s the night my mother sleeps through the night, as I sit on the stoop in my p.j.’s and watch the electric repair guys.

Oh caregiving.

P.S. They told me they couldn’t fix it that night and would put a temporary blah-blah in and come back in a week or two. I mentioned that my mother was on oxygen so electricity was kind of critical. The next day the manager came in his truck, checked the problem and said it would be fixed that day (not night, day) as no elderly person should be worried about electricity. So that’s kind of cool.

(Retold with permission from a great caregiver and good friend who still has a sense of humor 🙂 )

“You just have to Laugh…………”

Cathy Sikorski

Driving….your friends crazy

Brain Injury, Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

You know how you always think you’re smarter than every one else? Especially if you’re a caregiver. Mostly because you are reminded on a daily basis that you are at least thinking harder than most everyone you come in contact with.

A smart person with a person who thinks she's smart
A smart person with a person who thinks she’s smart

And yet, there are those days, where  you are reminded that even you, Superhuman Caregiver can be the dope.

When my friend was felled with a traumatic brain injury, her friends rallied around to make sure she went to all necessary doctor appointments. One does not traumatize the brain without adding things like, broken bones, sprains, strains, cuts, bruises and vision problems in with the mix. Driving yourself is out.

I really hate driving in the city. It used to scare me.  Admittedly, once you’ve driven into and out of the big city a million times, you hate it for different reasons. But a traumatic brain injury and it’s accompaniments require big city, good hospitals.

I volunteered to be the driver, so long as another friend would go along for navigation, walking to the door, or whatever else would be required.

The first time we went, the directions led us to a parking lot a thousand miles away from the building we needed. The second time we went, we found the super secret parking lot right at the back door. The third time we went we couldn’t remember how to get to the super secret parking lot. The fourth time, well this is what happened.

We pre-planned so that we could once again find the super secret parking lot. When we got to the highway exit for the hospital, it was closed. We took the next exit and ended up about 52 blocks away from our destination. Undaunted, I drove down those numbered streets until we reached the magic number….34th Street. Whereupon we came upon a busted water main break flooding the entire block north, south, east and west.

Appointment time was getting ever closer, as we sat in snarled traffic wondering what to do, I concocted a brilliant idea.

“Get out!” I said to my injured friend and my trusty sidekick helper.

They just looked at me, like I was Noah kicking them out of the boat.

“No, seriously, get out and start walking. It’s only four blocks. I’ll park anywhere I can and find you, and then I’ll go get the car when we are done at the doctor.”

They hop out into six inches of fast flowing water and jump over as much of it as they can. Tonto, the sidekick holding on to the patient hoping against hope that she doesn’t fall over and drown both of them.

I sat there for another five minutes, traffic finally starts to break and I drive around in circles. Miraculously and quite by accident I ended up at the super secret parking lot.

When Tonto and the patient enter the lobby, drenched from the knees down, there I was comfortably and dryly, waiting for them.

Hard to believe they asked me to drive again.

“You just have to Laugh……”

Cathy Sikorski

What do Depends and Dr. Pepper have in common?

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

I just read an article that says there’s  a ‘new trend’ that men are becoming caregivers. Hmmmm. I picture this:

Me: Honey, I need you to go get Depends.

My man: Okay. Where? What aisle? What size?

Me: Go to WalMart. They are in the aisle where there are feminine hygiene products. The package is green. Get Men’s Large.

My man: Okay. Which Walmart? Where is that aisle? How many packages do you want?

Me: Go to the Walmart in our town. Go behind the aspirin aisle. Get two packages.

My man: Okay. When do you need them? How much do they cost?

Me: Never mind.

See.. here’s the thing, My  man has done absolutely nothing wrong. He wants all the right information. He wants to do it correctly and I want him to read my mind, clearly and accurately and I don’t want to explain anything.

I’m sure many a caregiver would gladly give up her caregiving duties to a member of the opposite sex…but it’s like diaper changing ………you’re just not doing it right……………..and that’s where you get in trouble.

Don’t scare your male helper away. Trust him. You did marry him, or raise him, or punched him when he was your big brother tickling you. It’s like Dr. Pepper:  I can do it, you can do it, he can do it, we can do it, wouldn’t you like to be a caregiver too?

P.S. This is not to say the those brave men who are caregivers already, don’t know what they’re doing….they are apparently just more ‘trendy’ than women caregivers.

You just have to Laugh………..

Cathy Sikorski