Tag Archives: funny

Caregiving…It’s ra…..dic…u….lous

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

Caregivers are known for not taking care of themselves. I have let this stiff neck of mine haunt me for about 10 months. It took me at least 3 months to get myself to the chiropractor (who is my dear brother-in-law and treats me any time day or night, so here’s a shoutout to Yucha Chiropractic).

He tried tirelessly to get my neck to turn left and right. Because I had waited so long, my arms  tingled and it felt like hot pokers travelling along my triceps. This made removing T-shirts, sports bras and getting coffee cups out of the cabinet a Herculean task. Now, I don’t mind skipping the gym because of inappropriate clothing, but don’t mess with my morning coffee.

After serious chiropractic care and therapy, dressing, bathing and coffeeing were markedly improved. My neck was still stiff. Big deal. I taught myself to turn my entire body when merging into highway traffic. I made my workout buddy always take the elliptical to the left because that hurt less to turn and chat. I learned to sleep on my back because if I tried to sleep on my stomach, I had to keep my head lifted. My husband got spooked every time he turned towards me to see the Sphinx lying in wait.

So truthfully this wasn’t working. Six months go by, after I have an MRI, where I totally freak out on Brenda, the tech, and make her take me out of the MRI machine three times during a hellacious hot flash which turns into a panic attack. This is new to me. I believe I could watch my own open heart surgery and not freak out. Menopause and a stiffy (not that kind, you naughty reader). Ugh. So fun.

My chiro suggests a pain doctor. I finally get in to see him after a three month wait (no, I don’t go to the VA hospital, nor do I live in Canada). He says, “yep, you are a great candidate for cortisone shots.” Yay.

Shots were administered yesterday. It’s a mini-surgery. I warned them that I freaked out in the MRI, and they kindly called in a prescription for valium.  MRI freak outs surprise you with added benefits.

Post surgery on way to lunch…yea, I made my husband take me out for lunch. Even mini-surgery qualifies for staying out of the kitchen… I was turning my head like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. At least that’s how it felt. The nurse warned me that between the valium and lidocaine this could be a false positive.

After a night’s rest, it’s a bit painful, but I seem to remember sleeping on both sides last night, so that’s an improvement. It’s far from perfect, there is still pain, but they told me to wait a week to see what happens.

In the meantime, I read my MRI report.  I suffer from ridiculitis. Of course I do. I think the MRI doctor must have read these blogs.  Ok it’s radiculitis….but that just means I’m a humorist who cheers for myself…Rah Rah.

“You just have to Laugh…..”

©Cathy Sikorski

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

I can see clearly now… the pain is gone…..

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , ,

This is why you have to start taking care of yourself ASAP. And, admit maybe you should just go the old fashioned way.

My friend has always enjoyed perfect vision. As she beautifully progressed into middle age, she admired all those fancy reading glasses her friends were flaunting in hopes of looking fashionable (instead of old), and bought a pair for herself. Voila! She, herself could view ever so much better her books, her Kindle, her tax returns. Okay, she thought, not so bad. These glasses are super cute. Like when we all wanted to sport those sparkly cat’s eye glasses in the 50’s and 60’s because, well, they were just peachy keen, right?

Then she began to notice that looking far away was not all that productive either. Relenting, she went to the optometrist. Lo and behold…she needed glasses. Since her vision declined both near and far, she was encouraged to get bifocals.

“But wait!” she said, “what about contact lenses?”

“Well, of course,” said her doctor, “that’s no problem. You have to come in to be fitted.”

When fitting day arrived, my friend was beaming with happiness that modern technology gave her the opportunity to keep those old lady glasses at bay.

“Here we go!” said the perky technician. “Now, open wide, put one contact lens in each eye. We will let you get used to them for a bit, and then practice a couple of times putting them in and taking them out.”

In and out the contacts went. She was impressed that the contacts felt okay in her eyes with no real discomfort.

“Oh, that’s because they are soft lenses, so easy peasy,” the technician told her. “Let’s just do it one more time and then you’re good to go.”

In they go. Out they do not go. She pinches, she pulls, she tugs at imaginary things in her left eye. Nothing happens.

The lens was still in there. It had to be. Her eyes were watering like Niagara Falls, her fingers were giving her eye a proctology exam. She poked and prodded around desperately seeking a foreign object. Her eye was really hurting now and no lens appeared on her finger.

“Oh my!” said the tech as she leaped out of her chair to get the doctor.

“Well,” the doctor said, “I must say we’ve never had this before.”

He gazed at her eye in the special machine.

“Oh, oh my, oh that can’t be good,” said the doctor.

“What? what?” said my friend, mildly in a panic, okay probably not so mildly.

“Well, it looks like you broke the lens into three pieces in your eye. So we’re going to have to numb your eye and flip your eyelid so we can fish those pieces out of there.”

Yea…………

Her new bifocals are really quite fashion forward.

“You just have to Laugh….”

Cathy Sikorski

 

It’s your lucky day……….

Caregivers, Humor, , , ,

So apparently  my gorgeous, amazing readers are kind of a shy bunch. Or, they were making so many of their own laughs for 4th of July weekend that they got tears of joy in their keyboards and are now frantically trying to comment for that gift they know is rightfully theirs!

I made my hubby put his magic number in that sealed envelope. So we have to get to 50 comments before we open it. Like I said, it could be 1, it could be 50…I have no clue.

Since we are half-way there and only nice people have commented so far, I invite every previous commenter to go again…make a stampede like The Lion King, then one of you can go buy all the Hakuna Matata you want (or whatever 50 bucks would get you).

Good luck and thanks again for all your support!

“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

The wheels on the bus go round and round….

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

Wheelchairs break.  ( See:  When Wine and Wheelchairs do Mix)  To fix them, you call a wheelchair repair guy. The first time I did this, it was because the joy stick was not working properly.

“Hi, this is the repairman. I’m at the apartment.”

“Yes,” I said, ” I’m so glad you’re there.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not allowed to work in the chair if the guy is in it.”

“But it’s only the joystick,” I said. “He can’t do anything if his chair doesn’t work, and unless you are going to lift him into his bed, you can’t fix it.”

“I’ll have to come back when he ‘s not in the chair.”

“Okay, when will that be? Can you tell me and I will make sure he is in his bed at that time.”

“No,” he said, “you have to call and make an appointment.”

Round One: Wheelchair repair guy.

The next time it was broken, I made sure that my brother-in-law wasn’t in the chair when they were coming.

“Okay,” the new wheelchair repair guy said, “we can fix it, but we have to take it with us.”

“I sincerely hope you brought another chair with you,” I said, “because you can’t strand him in bed until you get the parts you need. ”

“Ummm, yeah ok, we got a chair in the van.”

I rush over to his apartment, there sits a 1957 circa barely electric wheelchair for a person of very small stature. He looks like he’s practicing to be a contortionist.

Round Two: Wheelchair repair guy.

Last week the wheels became so stripped from bumping into the footrest that I called them to replace the wheels.

I made sure my brother-in-law was not in the chair. He was safely tucked in his bed watching TV. I made sure they knew exactly what was wrong with the chair so they could bring the requisite parts. I made sure they had my cell number to call in case of any problems. And I emphasized that he needs this chair. Period.

Okay, I admit, at the time of the wheelchair repair appointment, I was at my book club discussing The Burgess Boys and how messed up the world is. I see a call come through on my cell, but it didn’t ring and it’s the wheelchair repair guy.

“Hello, is everything ok?”

“No, ma’am. I have been knocking and knocking on the door but no one answers.”

It was so very hard for me to remain calm.

“Well, sir. I can understand that. You see, it’s your company policy not to allow the customer to be in the wheelchair when you are there. So in order for that to happen, he is confined to his bed and cannot get up and answer the door. A Catch-22 wouldn’t you say?”

No answer.

“Why don’t you just knock, and then go in? Okay?” I tell him.

“Well, I guess this one time. We’re not supposed to go in, if no one answers the door.”

This is a wheelchair repair guy.

Round three: Wheelchair repair guy.

Yup, I just can’t win.

“You just have to Laugh…..”

Cathy Sikorski

Some hairy things are cute…others not so much

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , ,

I am a caregiver who tries to take care of herself.

Sometimes it goes haywire: A Girl’s gotta’ take care of herself, for example. Other times……

This morning I put much effort into grooming. It is the weekend. I have been way too helpful to others and wanted to put my best foot forward for weekend activities. The shower was hot and steamy, I got out the high end shampoo and conditioner, used the pretty smelly body wash instead of the manly anti-bacterial soap, and set down the path of shaving.

Sometimes I use the cheap disposable razors, but today I put a new blade in the new Venus razor. All you gals out there know this is the high end, expensive disposable blade razor.

Lately, I’ve been suffering from a sore neck. So looking side ways into my armpits has been a challenge. I guess the hot shower eased up the stiff neck because when I looked left and right it seemed like King Kong’s cousin had moved in under my armpits.

Well, this would not do.

I took that sharp, Lady Venus tool to the task and waited for the beauty of each stroke to clear away the debris.

Nothing happened. Nothing.

I scraped and shaved and swore, knowing that one of those things would definitely work.

Nothing.

Now I’m pissed. I spent good money on that high end appliance. If it’s named Venus, it should make me look like a goddess. It should be so sharp, I’m worried about losing my arms, not just my armpit hair.

Ugh. And how am I going to tackle my legs?

I try another blade. Same result. Of course I’m the one who got the defective pack of blades, because I always have boatloads of time to return things.

I don’t know why, but I think that if I just stare at this razor long enough, it will do what I want. Like the look I used to give my kids when they were little.

So finally, I just decide even though that blade snaps in tightly and perfectly, could it be in upside down?

Oh what the hell. I snap it out and try to turn it around, knowing full well this is stupid since it would only snap in one way. Now the shower is getting cold because I’ve been conducting experiments.

Damn! That sucker turned around and in one swoop worked like a Hoover. Only cut myself three times. But I find Sponge Bob Squarepants bandaids very sexy on weekends.

You just have to Laugh…..

Cathy Sikorski

 

 

 

Well, I DID feel pretty……

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, Uncategorized, , , ,

The beauty of blogging about caregiving is you get to ‘visit’ with those you have loved and cared for and lost.

I was thinking about my Aussie Aunt Jean this morning (probably because I got yet another bill for her that I had already dealt with four or five times by now ) and wanted to just spend some time thinking about our time together.

You may recall “A girl should be two things: Classy and Fabulous” Coco Chanel http://wp.me/p3CPfo-3i. That was my Aunt Jean. So we were never at a loss to do some girly thing while she was visiting. Shopping was her hobby and she rarely came home empty handed. All her purses matched her shoes, and she was never afraid of sparkle and bling all the way up to 90 years old.

But like many elders, her ‘aches and pains’ became a focus for her as much as her pretty outfits.

“Can I wear that black and white zebra print blouse with these horrible Sketchers?”

“Jeannie, the adorable zebra print looks great on you. The rest of your outfit matches, and you have to wear the Sketchers because your fashion boots are not stable enough, especially with the walker.”

“How about if I change my shoes in the car before we go into the restaurant?”

We weren’t meeting anyone at the restaurant, we were just going out shopping and for lunch.

“No, I don’t want you to fall. You still have to use your walker.”

“Fine,” she said, but in a very disappointed accent.

Then the shingles arrived, and that plagued her every day. So to get her out of her  shingles funk, I decided we would go get our nails done. By the way, she always had her nails done, this was not a treat for her, like it was for me. It was a necessity.

“Let’s go get our nails done!”

“Okay,” she said and with pretty much enthusiasm.

Off we go to the nail salon. My manicurists are delightful women. They treat my Mom, my Aunt and my daughters with kindness and interest. There’s lots of conversation and commenting like: “Ooohhh, that ‘s a pretty color! “My, you look so nice today.” “Are you going somewhere special with this mani-pedi?” That last comment for me because they know I don’t take time for this for just any occasion.

So there we were being all girly-girly getting French manicures and pedis and just relaxing and having a good time.

Two days later, Aunt Jean is still really uncomfortable with those damn shingles and one of her fingers on her left hand starts to blow up like a balloon.

We go back to the emergency clinic that diagnosed her shingles a few weeks ago, thinking that somehow the shingles moved to her finger?

The female doctor lances it, and works on it pretty hard so that Aunt Jean is wincing and yelping every once in a while.

“Well, Jean, nice manicure.”

“Thank you,” she says with an air of sophistication.

“But I think you got an infected finger from that nice manicure.”

See, I try to do something that will distract from those shingles and end up right back at the doctor.

“You just have to Laugh……………”

Cathy Sikorski

Go to Girl and Go Go Gadget

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

Invariably, on the day you need to be in your car for 8 to 10 hours, that is the day, all hell will break loose.

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

My go-to girl is my amazing 85 year-old mom. Weird, for a caregiver, I know. But she is a former nurse and raised six kids, so she knows her stuff. She pours all the meds for my brother-in-law, she helps me out in every pinch and she loves going to the ER with me. So when she calls, I answer…immediately.

“Hello?”

“Cathy?”

“Yes, Mom,” I say on my handsfree car phone as I’m driving 65 miles an hour down the turnpike on my mission to hit as many major cities in the metropolitan area for various necessities on Easter weekend.

“Um, I’m at L’s apartment, and his wheelchair stopped dead. Can I release it and push it down the hallway to the dining room so he can go to dinner?”

“Wait, no, you can’t push it. You are 85 for crying out loud, that wheelchair weighs a thousand pounds without the big guy in it.” (See When Wine and Wheelchairs don’t mix….)

“Look, Mom, since he had the wheelchair fixed, there’s a button on the back that sometimes disengages his controls. Can you see the button on the back?”

“No, I can’t get behind him, he kind of stopped weirdly in the middle of his room, and I can’t get behind him.”

I can’t really figure that one out, but okay, I’ll work with what I’ve got here.

“Okay, can you stand on his right side and look behind his head area. That’s where the button is. See if it’s red or green.”

“Oh, ok, yes ok it’s green, wait, now it’s red.”

“It sounds like it’s cycling through. Just turn it off and then back on and then see if he can use his own controller. And stand far away, he’s been known to take off like a bat out of hell when we are trying to figure this out.”

“Oh…..okay.”

She fiddles with it a few times and it doesn’t seem to work. I’m still stuck between 5 eighteen wheelers on the turnpike and going nowhere near L’s apartment.

“Okay, Mom, I’m gonna’ call for reinforcements to come help.”

“What? I can’t hear you, you’re cutting out.”

“I can hear you perfectly,” I say.

“Well, I can’t hear you,” she says as her pitch rises in frustration. But of course she could or how would she know I said that?

“HANG UP, I WILL CALL YOU BACK!” Because somehow I think yelling is the answer.

My reinforcements are hard to find, so I call her back to say I’m working on it.

“Hello, Cathy?

“Yeah, Mom, I’m trying to get you help.”

“Oh, that’s ok, I was waiting for your call to tell you that as soon as you hung up it started working. He started to drive toward me, and that seemed ok, so he went to dinner.”

Ummmm…you couldn’t call me?

“Ok, well that’s good, thanks for the update.”

“Oh and Cathy?”

“Yeah?”

There’s a big hole in the wall where his headrest got imbedded into it when he went too fast in reverse, so we’re gonna have to get that fixed.”

You just have to Laugh……

Cathy Sikorski

 

 

 

 

A discussion with John Hancock……

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

One day a letter came from John Hancock (not the real one, I’m pretty sure he died a while ago) stating that my brother-in-law had a small long term care insurance policy in effect left over from his employment.

Every little bit helps.

So I called John Hancock to see how we could begin using the benefits, as he clearly qualifies based on the policy I had them send to me for review.

“Hello? I would like to file a claim for long term care benefits.”

“Ok, I need to ask a few questions,” said the nice polite young lady from John Hancock.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am his sister-in-law and his Power of Attorney.”

“Well, ok, you need to send us a copy of the POA.”

“Yes, I can do that, in the meantime can you send me the application for benefits.”

“Yes, I will send it to his address.”

At that point, I noticed that they had the wrong zip code for his address.

“I see you have the correct street address, but the wrong zip code. Can you correct that before you send it?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I can’t change anything of his until you send me the POA.”

“But if you send it out, it will go to the wrong place.”

“Oh, yes, I see that. Well, would you like me to send the documents to your address?”

I pause for just a nano second, because experience has told me not to interrupt the ridiculous if it is in my favor.

“Yeah, sure, send it directly to me.”

I gave her my address.

“Now will you be filing that within one week?” she asked me.

“Well, he’s in the hospital for a few days, and may go to a nursing home for rehab or he may come directly  home and rehab there, ” I told her.

“Oh, well then you have to call back and request the forms after he gets home.”

“But it’s long term care insurance,” I said, “either way he will be under long term care.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t send the forms until he’s home.”

“So,” I say through tears…..of laughter, “you can’t send the forms for long term care until he’s home and not in long term care. And then you can send it to my address until I get you  a copy of the POA to correct his address.”

“Yes!” she says brightly, that’s exactly correct!”080

You just have to Laugh…..”

Cathy Sikorski