It's not all beautiful,
but most of it is.
It's not all that you think it is,
but it's okay.
It's really okay.
Strength is like that.
One of those things pretty hard to understand,
but you still have it.
You still do.
I guess you should keep the heart of a lion.
Mostly the eyes of the birds.
See so much, you can let the future in.
Wouldn't miss it for the world.
Nancy McEldowney
August 10, 2003
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Some Pretty Soon Day
I used to use that phrase alot. It was what I told myself each time my heart ached for more. More than I had given myself. The other life that I was sure was waiting for me and was going to still be there when I got around to fixing the life I already had. Then, one day, I just stepped away from the life I had built. I told the kids I was changing and left the husband at a new place to live so I could begin again within comfortable reach of those same people that I had trained to need me. Need me they did and use me, well, I allowed them to use me even after I made them all leave. We have all grown and are so much better for our efforts to change. We are the lucky ones, I think.
I have an elder who makes me consider these things so often. She had a wonderful marriage and was happy living her life with her husband, watching her girls grow and move away to begin their lives as mothers and wives. Then her precious friend and husband passed away and she had no choice but to change. I just learned recently that her present husband married her within six months of the death of her first husband. Thing is, the family learned that her challenge with Alzheimer's began in that same year, as well. The girls are women now and mothers of grown children. They hired me because they live in different states and can not be here to protect their mom. Her current husband seems to love her dearly but the disease is aggressive and she is lost so easily. This womans' daughters fret over her safety and personal care like good daughters should. I am able to accomplish so much because I am not them and the husband tends to trust me so far.
I am with this dear, dear woman each Monday morning for what I call, "girl time". I make sure she showers and during her shower I talk to her husband and try to find the challenges that I can help them with. He is surviving cancer this year so he is finding this care-giving for his loved one to be a challenge and something he didn't sign on for. He was looking for her to care for him. Most men, in my experience, look for it at his age. (86) Lots of husbands and wives that I have worked for get a sort of anger when they find the person they married is disappearing while some disease is moving in and taking over. In this home, the sort of anger I speak of means the husband loses patience having to repeat himself. He tells me that he has to yell at her to get her to shower or floss her teeth. I understand his frustration but I always remind him that she can't help her problem and that yelling is unacceptable. When they are alone, who knows how it goes. I guess I fret a little, too.
After the shower I get the towels and bed linen in the washer and now, the husband has started doing the laundry after we leave and this is good. He wasn't before my entrance into his sameness. He is attempting a cooperative attitude and I am grateful. The wife giggles at the thought of it and always says, "Good", when I tell her he did chores.
I get her to a day spa and get her hair washed and styled each week, and then cut once a month. We also get a pedicure done twice a month, hence the reference to "girl time". The day we are at the day spa, one of the other hair techs has her group of elderly women come in for their hair and I can make my client feel like she is a part of the group without her requirement of participation. The habit is working and she is happier. I want that for her.
Sometimes I look at the situation I have just explained to you and wonder if she ever feels trapped like I did . Does she remember that she married this guy and why she decided to do it? Does she appreciate her choices anymore? Both of them needed the company. Both of them were alone and tired of being alone. Now is 9 years later and life is what it is. Did it occur to them that this was a possibility? I doubt it. How can we see an aggressive disease coming? Now both of them fight something that they can't help each other with. They are still alone but together in the lives they created. There are no "pretty soon days" coming now. They are in the last decades of their lives and I am there to help things go smoothly so they can just enjoy the little things company can offer.
Do I compare their last decade to my own life? Yes, absolutely. Do I have any ideas for my own choices? I only hope I can find the happiness that the wife expresses when she talks about the life she thinks she has. Maybe her opinion of her day to day is disconnected and sometimes incorrect but to her, she is where she is supposed to be. I am also where I am supposed to be. This much I know. I never use that phrase anymore because I brought those days here.
I created the change and survived the transitions as they presented themselves. Perhaps the effort taught me to see these people for the humans that they are. I am referral only and I work only in the town that I live. The fact that I am still able to pay for this life tells you that I am getting income enough to support my life and the life of the child I still have at home with me, from a business that I have come to love. I think I told you before, this life I built will not make me wealthy, no, I am not pulling in a big income. Just enough not to lose ground and I am always grateful to have employment when so many do not. The extra part that keeps me taking new clients when treasured ones pass is the love and kindness. The families are so often out of ideas and feeling the pain of worry and fear of loss. The reality of watching our elders lose ground and fall from the ability to maintain themselves is an awesome reality even for the strongest heart. We only now the person we think that they are. Then when they need us to take over, we find other sides of them that we never guessed at.
That is where I come in. The families have so much courage to hire me. I try my best not to let them down. Our elders are so vulnerable. I try to be an advocate when I find someone unable to speak for themselves. I try to teach when I find them able to still learn. I always respect the life I find. These people, who ever they were in their youth, are here now, in my care. That means someone loves them so I do, too.
Some pretty soon day is here, got a plan?
I have an elder who makes me consider these things so often. She had a wonderful marriage and was happy living her life with her husband, watching her girls grow and move away to begin their lives as mothers and wives. Then her precious friend and husband passed away and she had no choice but to change. I just learned recently that her present husband married her within six months of the death of her first husband. Thing is, the family learned that her challenge with Alzheimer's began in that same year, as well. The girls are women now and mothers of grown children. They hired me because they live in different states and can not be here to protect their mom. Her current husband seems to love her dearly but the disease is aggressive and she is lost so easily. This womans' daughters fret over her safety and personal care like good daughters should. I am able to accomplish so much because I am not them and the husband tends to trust me so far.
I am with this dear, dear woman each Monday morning for what I call, "girl time". I make sure she showers and during her shower I talk to her husband and try to find the challenges that I can help them with. He is surviving cancer this year so he is finding this care-giving for his loved one to be a challenge and something he didn't sign on for. He was looking for her to care for him. Most men, in my experience, look for it at his age. (86) Lots of husbands and wives that I have worked for get a sort of anger when they find the person they married is disappearing while some disease is moving in and taking over. In this home, the sort of anger I speak of means the husband loses patience having to repeat himself. He tells me that he has to yell at her to get her to shower or floss her teeth. I understand his frustration but I always remind him that she can't help her problem and that yelling is unacceptable. When they are alone, who knows how it goes. I guess I fret a little, too.
After the shower I get the towels and bed linen in the washer and now, the husband has started doing the laundry after we leave and this is good. He wasn't before my entrance into his sameness. He is attempting a cooperative attitude and I am grateful. The wife giggles at the thought of it and always says, "Good", when I tell her he did chores.
I get her to a day spa and get her hair washed and styled each week, and then cut once a month. We also get a pedicure done twice a month, hence the reference to "girl time". The day we are at the day spa, one of the other hair techs has her group of elderly women come in for their hair and I can make my client feel like she is a part of the group without her requirement of participation. The habit is working and she is happier. I want that for her.
Sometimes I look at the situation I have just explained to you and wonder if she ever feels trapped like I did . Does she remember that she married this guy and why she decided to do it? Does she appreciate her choices anymore? Both of them needed the company. Both of them were alone and tired of being alone. Now is 9 years later and life is what it is. Did it occur to them that this was a possibility? I doubt it. How can we see an aggressive disease coming? Now both of them fight something that they can't help each other with. They are still alone but together in the lives they created. There are no "pretty soon days" coming now. They are in the last decades of their lives and I am there to help things go smoothly so they can just enjoy the little things company can offer.
Do I compare their last decade to my own life? Yes, absolutely. Do I have any ideas for my own choices? I only hope I can find the happiness that the wife expresses when she talks about the life she thinks she has. Maybe her opinion of her day to day is disconnected and sometimes incorrect but to her, she is where she is supposed to be. I am also where I am supposed to be. This much I know. I never use that phrase anymore because I brought those days here.
I created the change and survived the transitions as they presented themselves. Perhaps the effort taught me to see these people for the humans that they are. I am referral only and I work only in the town that I live. The fact that I am still able to pay for this life tells you that I am getting income enough to support my life and the life of the child I still have at home with me, from a business that I have come to love. I think I told you before, this life I built will not make me wealthy, no, I am not pulling in a big income. Just enough not to lose ground and I am always grateful to have employment when so many do not. The extra part that keeps me taking new clients when treasured ones pass is the love and kindness. The families are so often out of ideas and feeling the pain of worry and fear of loss. The reality of watching our elders lose ground and fall from the ability to maintain themselves is an awesome reality even for the strongest heart. We only now the person we think that they are. Then when they need us to take over, we find other sides of them that we never guessed at.
That is where I come in. The families have so much courage to hire me. I try my best not to let them down. Our elders are so vulnerable. I try to be an advocate when I find someone unable to speak for themselves. I try to teach when I find them able to still learn. I always respect the life I find. These people, who ever they were in their youth, are here now, in my care. That means someone loves them so I do, too.
Some pretty soon day is here, got a plan?
Sunday, September 20, 2009
God Only Sees Lifeforce
I think we maybe do it from some ache,
some need that silently explains to us
that we have to do it.
It was ordained that we must.
"All I ever do is try to make you happy"!
How many women have pleaded those words?
She thinks she is doing
what she is supposed to.
He doesn't understand why she does
what she does.
He doesn't remember what the Romans did.
He has forgotten when God was a woman.
She cleans and fixes
and fusses to improve his world.
Maybe even his reality.
He gets mad and defensive
and feels his world of security
shake with her fumbling invasion
of his sameness.
God only sees life force.
In Egypt, women were in authority.
In Rome, the men had taken all control.
45 years before Christ was born,
God was still a woman sometimes.
The Amazons shared a healthy
sense of community and though
I respect that,
I am thinking we could
make better choices.
God only sees life force.
If it's all the same to you,
well,
I want to be a God, too.
Nancy McEldowney
11/5/1995
some need that silently explains to us
that we have to do it.
It was ordained that we must.
"All I ever do is try to make you happy"!
How many women have pleaded those words?
She thinks she is doing
what she is supposed to.
He doesn't understand why she does
what she does.
He doesn't remember what the Romans did.
He has forgotten when God was a woman.
She cleans and fixes
and fusses to improve his world.
Maybe even his reality.
He gets mad and defensive
and feels his world of security
shake with her fumbling invasion
of his sameness.
God only sees life force.
In Egypt, women were in authority.
In Rome, the men had taken all control.
45 years before Christ was born,
God was still a woman sometimes.
The Amazons shared a healthy
sense of community and though
I respect that,
I am thinking we could
make better choices.
God only sees life force.
If it's all the same to you,
well,
I want to be a God, too.
Nancy McEldowney
11/5/1995
Just think of it.
We all have to do it at some point in our lives. If we're lucky, we do it early on. Somehow, we know it's true though I believe not all of us want to believe it.
The thing is, we still have to do it. We have to look our lives square in the kisser and demand what we want from ourselves. I have been looking closely at the lives of my elders. I don't mean to be intrusive but I am with them for some very intimate moments in their lives. I can't help but learn from what I see.
You have heard the truth. Thoughts become things. Our thoughts become who and what we are. What and how we live. So if we are lucky, early on in life we teach ourselves to make our personal agenda and then fight ourselves for it.
I know that I create these challenges for myself because all day long I am manifesting and acting and rolling with the flow I create and then engage. Not reacting to something that just happens to me but acting toward the end which is better if I keep it in sight from the start. Took me so long to get that. Took me most of my life to see that even the things that don't feel like they were in my power were still a part of something. Something I agree to simply because I stay. I do not die. I do not give up. I stay.
So many good people are leaving the planet. Yes, another way to say it is that they are dieing. I want to believe in spirit. I say God only sees life-force. I want to know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be even if where I am feels like it is breaking me. I choose not to break. I think of the future that exists with the silent backdrop of my past. I choose to live the present on purpose with my future ever in mind. Took me a long time to get that one, too.
Then there are my elders who live believing they must beg some unseen, human like force of love for the graciousness only a God can have. A graciousness that might just allow them the existence they don't deserve. A life they may have if they just pray hard enough and live as someone told them only God will accept as enough. Day after day reacting to events and dramas as kind of victims of this God they beg.
That part always confuses me. I did get that same teaching as a child but fairy tales came with that package and I grew out of them, too. I love the mystery. I love the feeling of unseen company. I just learned to protect myself and only accept white light. I taught myself that darkness only illuminates the light. It works for me. It makes me stronger and there is no begging. I learned to to say no to myself when I realize that I have created something that is harming me. I've learned that the power starts with me. The same power that I used to hand over to the guy with the book written about him and his son. The power that keeps my life light burning is a choice that I believe I made before I got here so it stays with me that if I goof the life I have, I am only letting myself down. Then there are all the people I was going to meet and bless with my love and light. Goofing the good stuff will keep me from being good for anyone else. What's the point to staying if we can't play nice together?
Sound a little off?
Well, I believe the mere fact that you read to the end means you are ready to hear it.
Well done.
This could sound like more of the nonsense hippies thought up. Doesn't matter to me if you don't agree. Part of what I am tells me that I respect what works for you and I appreciate it if you respect what works for me.
Ultimately, if you live your life with no harm to yourself and anyone else, you are ahead of the game.
My elders, well, I can't talk this way to them. They just laugh. But they love me and are grateful that I am not afraid of the life they let me share with them, no matter how difficult it can get for us. People call this my ministry. I hear an old word that means more than one thing. What ever you want to call what I do is up to you, just so you give it a try. Just so you look into the eyes of the elders around you and remember they are you. It's all your choice, your creation. I hope you tend your garden and love your life for the life you know you created and nurtured. You are the boss of you, remember?
The thing is, we still have to do it. We have to look our lives square in the kisser and demand what we want from ourselves. I have been looking closely at the lives of my elders. I don't mean to be intrusive but I am with them for some very intimate moments in their lives. I can't help but learn from what I see.
You have heard the truth. Thoughts become things. Our thoughts become who and what we are. What and how we live. So if we are lucky, early on in life we teach ourselves to make our personal agenda and then fight ourselves for it.
I know that I create these challenges for myself because all day long I am manifesting and acting and rolling with the flow I create and then engage. Not reacting to something that just happens to me but acting toward the end which is better if I keep it in sight from the start. Took me so long to get that. Took me most of my life to see that even the things that don't feel like they were in my power were still a part of something. Something I agree to simply because I stay. I do not die. I do not give up. I stay.
So many good people are leaving the planet. Yes, another way to say it is that they are dieing. I want to believe in spirit. I say God only sees life-force. I want to know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be even if where I am feels like it is breaking me. I choose not to break. I think of the future that exists with the silent backdrop of my past. I choose to live the present on purpose with my future ever in mind. Took me a long time to get that one, too.
Then there are my elders who live believing they must beg some unseen, human like force of love for the graciousness only a God can have. A graciousness that might just allow them the existence they don't deserve. A life they may have if they just pray hard enough and live as someone told them only God will accept as enough. Day after day reacting to events and dramas as kind of victims of this God they beg.
That part always confuses me. I did get that same teaching as a child but fairy tales came with that package and I grew out of them, too. I love the mystery. I love the feeling of unseen company. I just learned to protect myself and only accept white light. I taught myself that darkness only illuminates the light. It works for me. It makes me stronger and there is no begging. I learned to to say no to myself when I realize that I have created something that is harming me. I've learned that the power starts with me. The same power that I used to hand over to the guy with the book written about him and his son. The power that keeps my life light burning is a choice that I believe I made before I got here so it stays with me that if I goof the life I have, I am only letting myself down. Then there are all the people I was going to meet and bless with my love and light. Goofing the good stuff will keep me from being good for anyone else. What's the point to staying if we can't play nice together?
Sound a little off?
Well, I believe the mere fact that you read to the end means you are ready to hear it.
Well done.
This could sound like more of the nonsense hippies thought up. Doesn't matter to me if you don't agree. Part of what I am tells me that I respect what works for you and I appreciate it if you respect what works for me.
Ultimately, if you live your life with no harm to yourself and anyone else, you are ahead of the game.
My elders, well, I can't talk this way to them. They just laugh. But they love me and are grateful that I am not afraid of the life they let me share with them, no matter how difficult it can get for us. People call this my ministry. I hear an old word that means more than one thing. What ever you want to call what I do is up to you, just so you give it a try. Just so you look into the eyes of the elders around you and remember they are you. It's all your choice, your creation. I hope you tend your garden and love your life for the life you know you created and nurtured. You are the boss of you, remember?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
To You Mom
In my dream,
I just saw you eating an orange.
Some things can seem so simple and small when really,
what is true,
is the memory is you.
Times I have seen you in my young boys' eyes.
Times I have heard you in my sweet baby girls sighs.
Sometimes they are you and mom,
you can believe these words hold true,
I am loving you.
In my life
you listened with love.
You are one
who taught me patience,
with kindness and laughter.
Now I am a mom
and I listen for your words,
long after.
Do I listen,
keeping love in mind?
Will my children cherish me,
as I cherish you?
These are ancient questions
that many daughters
bring to the women
who brought them here.
Still,
I wonder if you trust
the depth of my respect for you.
And that
I still hold you so very dear.
Nancy McEldowney
2/18/99
I just saw you eating an orange.
Some things can seem so simple and small when really,
what is true,
is the memory is you.
Times I have seen you in my young boys' eyes.
Times I have heard you in my sweet baby girls sighs.
Sometimes they are you and mom,
you can believe these words hold true,
I am loving you.
In my life
you listened with love.
You are one
who taught me patience,
with kindness and laughter.
Now I am a mom
and I listen for your words,
long after.
Do I listen,
keeping love in mind?
Will my children cherish me,
as I cherish you?
These are ancient questions
that many daughters
bring to the women
who brought them here.
Still,
I wonder if you trust
the depth of my respect for you.
And that
I still hold you so very dear.
Nancy McEldowney
2/18/99
He said, "Hello, My Name Is Ben."
It wasn't just any agent who asked me for this favor. I wasn't even sure what she was asking but I knew I had to help her. She was the broker who owned the real estate agency and she had faith in me so I had faith, too. Now, when I look back, I'm sure it was a true gift that she gave to me.
She asked me to check in on Ben. He was an older gentleman who lived alone and who was not always able to help himself around the house. That is how she explained the situation.
I called ahead and made an appointment with Ben. We agreed on a day and time and then I waited. He told me that he had waited for me, too. When I rang the doorbell, it took a long time for Ben to make it to the door. He was only in the kitchen but Ben suffered edema in his ankles from some of the medications he had to take so walking was slow and not very steady. I could hear his footsteps as his slippers slid along on the stone tile floor. When he opened the door and raised his head to look out at me, a smile grew across his face and I fell in love. He said, "Hello, my name is Ben, come in." We sat at his kitchen table and I asked him about his feet. He didn't want to talk about his feet, he wanted to know how my day had been and would I like something to drink. I felt safe and comfortable and knew this would work out fine.
It didn't take long till I was all over that house. It was big but he was neat and tidy and then there were the areas that went unused since the kids were grown and his wife had passed. I cleaned for him once a week and as the weeks passed we found time to chat about this and that till finally he was comfortable enough to tell me about the pain I could see him tolerate when he walked.
I asked him, one day, as we sat together at that kitchen table, if he would mind taking off his slippers to show me his feet. He was slow to do it so I got down on the floor in front of him and asked if I could help. He was reluctant but he finally said okay. I slowly, carefully slid the back over his heel. I think he could see me trying not to cry when I saw what he had been walking on, so he quickly pulled back.
The edema made his ankles purple from the lack of blood flow but his feet had been so swollen for so long, the skin had become dry and was peeling and cracked. His toe nails were yellow and two of them had developed a fungus. It looked very painful and he told me that the slippers were the only shoes that would fit over his feet. I asked him if he would like a foot massage and even though I was sure he had never had one before, he was quick to say yes.
Those massages turned into hour long soaks in tea-tree oil and warm water followed by a massage and pedicure. When I asked him why his doctor hadn't taken care of the fungus he got angry and said because he wasn't telling him about it. He told me one of his stories about the time he had gone in for something else and only mentioned to the doctor that he wanted an over the counter medication for his toe trouble. He said before he knew what was happening, the doctor turned to him with pliers in his hand and he just ripped the toenail off, with no warning. Ben got tears in his eyes when he got to the ripping part. So betrayed by his own doctor. Ben was given a medication for pain and ointment to put on the toe with instructions to keep it bandaged till a new nail grew back. The new nail grew in with a new fungus so Ben never took his shoes off in front of his doctor again. This is where he flashed me that impish grin of his. I told him not to fret, there would be no toenail removal for fungus anymore. I explained that the tea-tree oil would kill the fungus while he soaked. It also reduced the edema as it killed the fungus so as his extra large feet shrunk and the fungus went away, Ben fell in love with me and trusted me from then on.
The foot soaks became a good habit even after his feet were better. He enjoyed sitting at the kitchen table while I worked in his kitchen. We could talk about his days and he had a woman in his kitchen again. He told me once that I was the first woman to clean his oven since his wife had died. I asked him how long it had been and he quietly answered, "six years". I realized how very much this man needed my care. I didn't realize how much I would love spending days with him, how I would grow to need his humor and quiet kindness.
After a year or so, he needed more help. He increased our time so that I was there at 1:00 every Tuesday and Thursday. Thursday remained the cleaning day which also included a foot soak and massage. Tuesday I drove him to the grocery store where he loved the grocery carts. He could walk faster now since his feet were getting better and he could wear shoes again. I used to call him Mario because he was so fast when he had the cart to keep him walking strong. I always got one of those grins for that.......
There is so much more to the story of my time with Ben. There just isn't enough time here, so I will skip ahead.
I remember the Thursday that I arrived at 1:00, as usual, but Ben wasn't answering the door. I let myself in with my emergency key. I found Ben on the floor in the kitchen. He had fallen the night before around 7:30. He was conscience but couldn't move. The stone tile had taken all his body heat, he was cold to touch. I laid down beside him, putting my body near him, holding him and talking quietly to calm him, trying to assure him. Once again, he told me he had waited for me.
It took the EMTs minutes to get there and we sorted out what medications he had missed from his notebook of records. That notebook was a list of all his doctors, their numbers and what Ben saw them for. It also contained a list of his medications along with when he took them and how much was to be taken in each dose. I hope you will get to your parents homes and make one of these notebooks. Keep it in the kitchen in a place where the EMTs can find it if no one is conscience when they arrive. Please, just do it.
I think you can tell that I lost Ben. I had the pleasure of caring for him for four years and then, just like that, he was gone. I am very grateful for the times we shared. You should be so lucky.
She asked me to check in on Ben. He was an older gentleman who lived alone and who was not always able to help himself around the house. That is how she explained the situation.
I called ahead and made an appointment with Ben. We agreed on a day and time and then I waited. He told me that he had waited for me, too. When I rang the doorbell, it took a long time for Ben to make it to the door. He was only in the kitchen but Ben suffered edema in his ankles from some of the medications he had to take so walking was slow and not very steady. I could hear his footsteps as his slippers slid along on the stone tile floor. When he opened the door and raised his head to look out at me, a smile grew across his face and I fell in love. He said, "Hello, my name is Ben, come in." We sat at his kitchen table and I asked him about his feet. He didn't want to talk about his feet, he wanted to know how my day had been and would I like something to drink. I felt safe and comfortable and knew this would work out fine.
It didn't take long till I was all over that house. It was big but he was neat and tidy and then there were the areas that went unused since the kids were grown and his wife had passed. I cleaned for him once a week and as the weeks passed we found time to chat about this and that till finally he was comfortable enough to tell me about the pain I could see him tolerate when he walked.
I asked him, one day, as we sat together at that kitchen table, if he would mind taking off his slippers to show me his feet. He was slow to do it so I got down on the floor in front of him and asked if I could help. He was reluctant but he finally said okay. I slowly, carefully slid the back over his heel. I think he could see me trying not to cry when I saw what he had been walking on, so he quickly pulled back.
The edema made his ankles purple from the lack of blood flow but his feet had been so swollen for so long, the skin had become dry and was peeling and cracked. His toe nails were yellow and two of them had developed a fungus. It looked very painful and he told me that the slippers were the only shoes that would fit over his feet. I asked him if he would like a foot massage and even though I was sure he had never had one before, he was quick to say yes.
Those massages turned into hour long soaks in tea-tree oil and warm water followed by a massage and pedicure. When I asked him why his doctor hadn't taken care of the fungus he got angry and said because he wasn't telling him about it. He told me one of his stories about the time he had gone in for something else and only mentioned to the doctor that he wanted an over the counter medication for his toe trouble. He said before he knew what was happening, the doctor turned to him with pliers in his hand and he just ripped the toenail off, with no warning. Ben got tears in his eyes when he got to the ripping part. So betrayed by his own doctor. Ben was given a medication for pain and ointment to put on the toe with instructions to keep it bandaged till a new nail grew back. The new nail grew in with a new fungus so Ben never took his shoes off in front of his doctor again. This is where he flashed me that impish grin of his. I told him not to fret, there would be no toenail removal for fungus anymore. I explained that the tea-tree oil would kill the fungus while he soaked. It also reduced the edema as it killed the fungus so as his extra large feet shrunk and the fungus went away, Ben fell in love with me and trusted me from then on.
The foot soaks became a good habit even after his feet were better. He enjoyed sitting at the kitchen table while I worked in his kitchen. We could talk about his days and he had a woman in his kitchen again. He told me once that I was the first woman to clean his oven since his wife had died. I asked him how long it had been and he quietly answered, "six years". I realized how very much this man needed my care. I didn't realize how much I would love spending days with him, how I would grow to need his humor and quiet kindness.
After a year or so, he needed more help. He increased our time so that I was there at 1:00 every Tuesday and Thursday. Thursday remained the cleaning day which also included a foot soak and massage. Tuesday I drove him to the grocery store where he loved the grocery carts. He could walk faster now since his feet were getting better and he could wear shoes again. I used to call him Mario because he was so fast when he had the cart to keep him walking strong. I always got one of those grins for that.......
There is so much more to the story of my time with Ben. There just isn't enough time here, so I will skip ahead.
I remember the Thursday that I arrived at 1:00, as usual, but Ben wasn't answering the door. I let myself in with my emergency key. I found Ben on the floor in the kitchen. He had fallen the night before around 7:30. He was conscience but couldn't move. The stone tile had taken all his body heat, he was cold to touch. I laid down beside him, putting my body near him, holding him and talking quietly to calm him, trying to assure him. Once again, he told me he had waited for me.
It took the EMTs minutes to get there and we sorted out what medications he had missed from his notebook of records. That notebook was a list of all his doctors, their numbers and what Ben saw them for. It also contained a list of his medications along with when he took them and how much was to be taken in each dose. I hope you will get to your parents homes and make one of these notebooks. Keep it in the kitchen in a place where the EMTs can find it if no one is conscience when they arrive. Please, just do it.
I think you can tell that I lost Ben. I had the pleasure of caring for him for four years and then, just like that, he was gone. I am very grateful for the times we shared. You should be so lucky.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Something I Have Noticed
It is, it is just something I have noticed. People who find I do Elder-care for employment usually give me the raised eyebrows reaction but soon find nothing to say. It just feels like what I do is not interesting until it is needed. Then, when you have me at your door and my day is at an end, well, then I find the chat. The need and confusion. I don't have a problem with the need I just wish the human community of the United States could get more comfortable with what is obviously future. I feel like if we didn't run so hard away from our elder futures, well, perhaps we might do a better job of it when we get there. People like me might not be needed like we are. People like you might not be so frightened of what you see in your parents faces and lives.
We all start out small. When it's all near done, if we are lucky and have been healthy, we are old and not as strong and just not as capable of caring for ourselves as when we were younger.
Things get muddled in our habits and understandings of our day to day. Eventually, we need help and if we are smart and or lucky, help is there when it is needed.
Today I had a satisfying day with a client and her husband. I was hired by the three daughters who love their mother but it took a year to talk her husband into letting me come once a week. It is not because he is a bad man, it is because he also loves this woman and did not want anyone to get close enough to her to hurt her. Now is a year since the first time I was called to this house and she is a year further into her experience with Alzheimer's. I have only been visiting these past five Mondays. The daughters are beginning to feel better, I can tell. The husband told me today that he and his wife like it when I come by each Monday so I know I am getting this one right. The biggest treat, though, is when the woman turns to me and says that I am a friend of hers. She remembers who I am after only five Mondays. It is good.
So here is where you wonder what it is that I do for these people.
I get there Monday a.m. and get her into the shower. She never wants to but I have been hired to make sure these simple tasks are accomplished. While she is in the shower, I strip the bed and get it all in the washer. Sometimes she has already loaded some, other times I find it in the hamper. She always tells me that I don't need to do it for her but I remind her that I have been hired to do these things and that it is okay to let me. After she is dressed we are off for a "girl" day. A local day spa allows me to wash her hair each Monday and use the dryer to dry her wet head. You got it, she wasn't washing her hair. Ever. We have a pedicure technician there who understands the situation and is willing to work for us every other week. It was becoming an unhealthy situation to leave her toes to fend for themselves so here is another thing that I am paid for, getting the pedicure done every other week. The day spa bills the family once a month and the daughters send an Edible-Arrangment to the spa once a month to show their appreciation. An edible treat for a tip. Nice, isn't it? Once the "girl" time has been accomplished, we set out to drive around town to see the gardens or sometimes we stop at Gramma Daisy's, a local, family run candy and ice-cream shop. Sometimes I take her to a small shop with sweet gifts and purses so she can shop in a small world of soft colors and sweet people. The idea is to give her a repetition that can become a comfort for her as the weeks pass. By noon her husband is waiting at the senior center to have lunch with his lovely wife. It is a very important daily ritual that I try to honor every day. If he can't get to the senior center, I pick up lunch on the way home. As often as I can, I try to clean for them. Cleaning is another thing I get hired for. It is one of my compulsive activities so it works for me. I get paid for something I can't stop myself from doing. My elders love that I can't stop myself. They can't get as far as I can so it is a gift to them once they will let me show them what I can do.
So now you have an idea of what Monday is like. It changes week to week, day to day. I keep a schedule so I have the same homes but the needs can vary from visit to visit. I try to be useful, kind, patient. It isn't as hard for me as it is for the people who love these elders. Our elders used to seem so strong to us while we were children. Then the day comes when we realize the weakness is more real and we find we have to act like the parents to our parents. It is a reality. That is all it is. It is all in the perspective you choose. And it is a choice. That part is up to you.
Keep that sense of humor. Remember the cycle of things and be useful where you can. Your elders have old habits that have nothing to do with you. I try to help them stay in their homes as independently as they can. Just another day.
We all start out small. When it's all near done, if we are lucky and have been healthy, we are old and not as strong and just not as capable of caring for ourselves as when we were younger.
Things get muddled in our habits and understandings of our day to day. Eventually, we need help and if we are smart and or lucky, help is there when it is needed.
Today I had a satisfying day with a client and her husband. I was hired by the three daughters who love their mother but it took a year to talk her husband into letting me come once a week. It is not because he is a bad man, it is because he also loves this woman and did not want anyone to get close enough to her to hurt her. Now is a year since the first time I was called to this house and she is a year further into her experience with Alzheimer's. I have only been visiting these past five Mondays. The daughters are beginning to feel better, I can tell. The husband told me today that he and his wife like it when I come by each Monday so I know I am getting this one right. The biggest treat, though, is when the woman turns to me and says that I am a friend of hers. She remembers who I am after only five Mondays. It is good.
So here is where you wonder what it is that I do for these people.
I get there Monday a.m. and get her into the shower. She never wants to but I have been hired to make sure these simple tasks are accomplished. While she is in the shower, I strip the bed and get it all in the washer. Sometimes she has already loaded some, other times I find it in the hamper. She always tells me that I don't need to do it for her but I remind her that I have been hired to do these things and that it is okay to let me. After she is dressed we are off for a "girl" day. A local day spa allows me to wash her hair each Monday and use the dryer to dry her wet head. You got it, she wasn't washing her hair. Ever. We have a pedicure technician there who understands the situation and is willing to work for us every other week. It was becoming an unhealthy situation to leave her toes to fend for themselves so here is another thing that I am paid for, getting the pedicure done every other week. The day spa bills the family once a month and the daughters send an Edible-Arrangment to the spa once a month to show their appreciation. An edible treat for a tip. Nice, isn't it? Once the "girl" time has been accomplished, we set out to drive around town to see the gardens or sometimes we stop at Gramma Daisy's, a local, family run candy and ice-cream shop. Sometimes I take her to a small shop with sweet gifts and purses so she can shop in a small world of soft colors and sweet people. The idea is to give her a repetition that can become a comfort for her as the weeks pass. By noon her husband is waiting at the senior center to have lunch with his lovely wife. It is a very important daily ritual that I try to honor every day. If he can't get to the senior center, I pick up lunch on the way home. As often as I can, I try to clean for them. Cleaning is another thing I get hired for. It is one of my compulsive activities so it works for me. I get paid for something I can't stop myself from doing. My elders love that I can't stop myself. They can't get as far as I can so it is a gift to them once they will let me show them what I can do.
So now you have an idea of what Monday is like. It changes week to week, day to day. I keep a schedule so I have the same homes but the needs can vary from visit to visit. I try to be useful, kind, patient. It isn't as hard for me as it is for the people who love these elders. Our elders used to seem so strong to us while we were children. Then the day comes when we realize the weakness is more real and we find we have to act like the parents to our parents. It is a reality. That is all it is. It is all in the perspective you choose. And it is a choice. That part is up to you.
Keep that sense of humor. Remember the cycle of things and be useful where you can. Your elders have old habits that have nothing to do with you. I try to help them stay in their homes as independently as they can. Just another day.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
How Do You Do It?
I get that question often enough. If not that one, then I am asked if I work for an agency or do I do this on my own. I am even asked if I will be starting my own agency. All good questions I imagine. This morning, my bones aching and my head tired from the constant, "on duty" kind of feeling, and I ask myself how I do it. This time of year I take on vacation homes to make up for the time I give away to elders who can't afford the in-home care that I provide. I live in a lake town so the vacation homes pop up most of the year but in summer you can imagine how my schedule stacks up. I am lucky that way as the winter months can make for a tight budget. Someone said the other day, "Nancy you should start an agency. Do you know how many people are out here making $9.00 an hour?" I am sorry that it is true but I can't make up the difference for people who don't know how to do it for themselves. I can only teach what I know when I have the time to teach. Today I will have two places. Yesterday I did three. Yes, I worked two vacation homes but they will make up for my Friday when my client, who survives an aggressive form of Parkinson's will only afford three hours but will require at least 6 hours. They will also make up for my afternoon today where it is obvious I am needed but really to expensive to have. I have been told for years that I should charge more for my time but then how will my elders ever get my care? You have to be committed. You have to want to be good for something more than yourself.
Yesterday, throughout the day, I watched and heard the funeral for Michael Jackson on the televisions that were on. I kept thinking, "another casualty of the A.M.A. and I shuddered. The lack of conscience in so many of the medical practitioners in our country cost us so many good people. It doesn't matter how much money you have. The selfishness in medicine for profit makes my life and yours a commodity to be gained or lost. While the country fights over ideas about health care, I struggle like too many others here in America. Health care is a luxury and even if I do get the money to afford a doctor in times of need, there is no promise that I will be cared for by someone who knows enough about the human body to heal me. I will have huge bills but I may not survive. It's the reality. Doctors do what they can in most cases but as long as it is medicine for profit, I won't be the most important fact in the room. My elders are not the most important fact in the room.
So here I go. I will be making my difference in this world for people who paid taxes, worked at jobs every day and hoped for a future. Just like someone like Mr. Michael Jackson, they thought they had a life worth living and wanted to be good for the world they felt they lived in. What the truth is, well, I won't be starting an agency. Home care for profit is not what I am doing. Supporting myself and my son while I do what I love to do is my reality. The economy does not help me. The government does not see me. The church does not love me. The hospital does not have the ability to care for me. I care for me. I care for all the people who can get on my schedule. I care for my son. This is America and I have built this life in a small town, in America.
How do I do it? Baby steps, self love, the need to be good for the world around me, focus, good habits, patience. Try it some time. I mean the part about doing something for someone else each day. It makes you stronger than you think you are. It makes me forget my aching bones and weary heart. It reminds me that I have a life worth fighting for. Just like you.
Yesterday, throughout the day, I watched and heard the funeral for Michael Jackson on the televisions that were on. I kept thinking, "another casualty of the A.M.A. and I shuddered. The lack of conscience in so many of the medical practitioners in our country cost us so many good people. It doesn't matter how much money you have. The selfishness in medicine for profit makes my life and yours a commodity to be gained or lost. While the country fights over ideas about health care, I struggle like too many others here in America. Health care is a luxury and even if I do get the money to afford a doctor in times of need, there is no promise that I will be cared for by someone who knows enough about the human body to heal me. I will have huge bills but I may not survive. It's the reality. Doctors do what they can in most cases but as long as it is medicine for profit, I won't be the most important fact in the room. My elders are not the most important fact in the room.
So here I go. I will be making my difference in this world for people who paid taxes, worked at jobs every day and hoped for a future. Just like someone like Mr. Michael Jackson, they thought they had a life worth living and wanted to be good for the world they felt they lived in. What the truth is, well, I won't be starting an agency. Home care for profit is not what I am doing. Supporting myself and my son while I do what I love to do is my reality. The economy does not help me. The government does not see me. The church does not love me. The hospital does not have the ability to care for me. I care for me. I care for all the people who can get on my schedule. I care for my son. This is America and I have built this life in a small town, in America.
How do I do it? Baby steps, self love, the need to be good for the world around me, focus, good habits, patience. Try it some time. I mean the part about doing something for someone else each day. It makes you stronger than you think you are. It makes me forget my aching bones and weary heart. It reminds me that I have a life worth fighting for. Just like you.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
She Said Keep Your Sense Of Humor
That was one of my clients. I told her that I had seen an interview of someone who had been a care giver for the elderly and had written a book about her experience. I said that it seemed a more negative approach to relating what was important to her and that I hoped I didn't end up sounding like her. All this experience has really made me more than I am and it has been a joyful act for me. She only said, in that low comfortable voice of hers, she said, "Nancy, keep your sense of humor". Coming from her, I will take that sound advice. Perhaps you would like me to tell you about some of the good things you will find, should you imagine following in my footsteps, in your community. I think you will find joy if you hit it right.
Mary Jane is 88 years young. Her aunt, Jenny, is 89 and I have cared for these two women for 8 years. They are both so very precious to me. I get to spend time with them every other week, if I am lucky, and I truly enjoy the honor. As the story goes, they are only a year apart in age but are really from two different generations of their family. Most of my younger elders will ask me how they are doing and in truth, I have referred to them as the sisters because it is easier than explaining a privacy like that. Yes, I share information about all my elders with all my elders. Not in the personal ways that I am privy to in each home but yes, I relate milestones and tricks of aging that my elders accomplish. It has become such a family and I get the feeling they all really enjoy and care about each other as the years pass. No, they don't ever meet but they send advice and understanding and even gifts to each other through me and once again it honors me to help keep their worlds larger than their living rooms. My elders are often home each day with nothing calling them outside but doctor appointments and occasional family visits. When you can't drive, your world gets smaller and smaller, as your body gives out or no longer listens to your commands. Men seem to take losing the ability to drive harder than women but in honesty, I pray I will have the grace my elders have when I lose my driving privileges due to my aging eyes or mental ability to respond on cue.
Do you think about that? Do you understand that we are them? I do and I never did before. Since I found this place in the universe looking for me I have learned to realize and respect many aspects of my inevitable future and just as I try to prepare for a life worth living in my elder years, so do I make the effort to help my elders enjoy and have some kind of control over their lives at this stage.
Both of these beautiful women have outlived their husbands and all the kids and grand kids are busy with the lives that they are building. These two care for each other and are companions for each other in ways you and I might take for granted, in our own lives. It pains me to see how the years are beginning to show and one is left without the others company because their bodies are aging in different ways. It is always a good day when they will tell me stories of what it was like for them when they were in grade school or when it was their time to be the wife and mother. Sometimes, when one or the other is in the mood to share memories, it is almost like being there, for me. Funny how our memories can be so vivid about out beginnings and yet, as we age, our moment to moment gets so hard to hold on to.
Let me start where our day begins. I arrive at noon and they are up "early" so they can be ready for me to be in the house with them. You know, clothes changed, faces washed, that sort of thing. They both stay up late and do as they please because when you are 88 and 89, you can. The door opens and there's that beautiful grin, complete with a sweet hello and how are you doing today, greeting. I'm there to clean for them. I bring in my buckets and broom, then we sit down to chat for an hour or two. Sometimes we are talking so long we have to laugh and get me busy so I am able to get home to make dinner for my boy. I think they would have me there all evening sometimes as we get so comfortable in our little space. Yes, we forget the outside world for a little while. Often times, I remember the early days of my marriage in contrast to the stories told to me at that table. All three of us were young women doing the best we could to understand our roles. We loved our husband and celebrated the chance to honor him in our own ways. We were in awe and wonderment and yes, fear, when pregnancy began. We all three took the best care we knew how to and we all three gave birth in the best medical situations that were available to us The differences are small on the personal levels but they both had so much more courage than I ever had. They were from a different time and doctors did the best they could but habits in a hospital were less educated for people of that era. You have to find the right perspective about things back then. It is always an amazement for me when I hear my elders speak of daily life in their childhoods, too. Life was so basic and yet unpredictable, limitless. They had no TV or stereo. In their beginnings, sometimes they didn't even have running water so how were the dishes washed and the laundry, bathing and yes, just the simple urge for a glass of drinking water? It wasn't a movie, it was real life and they were cared for by mothers and fathers who worked hard for what little they had available to them. It was so frightening when someone was ill as the problems were still possibly a life threatening disease and not a simple cold or flu. Still, the days passed with laughter and tears and pride and disappointments, just like any other life you can recall. Time after time, we sat at the kitchen table and they were more interested in my life and day to day. All the while, I am waiting for glimpses into their days and how it is to be 89 and 88.
I guess that should be enough for now. Oh, there is so much more but for now, we'll keep our sense of humor. Be well friends and maybe, call your mom or your dad and let them tell you a story. Could be good.
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