Old Age Ain't for Sissies

[actor61]

My father turned 90 this month. His memory has been declining for years; long term is great, short term is poor. For example, he can't remember his 2 granddaughters' names but he can tell you a 2 hour story about a winter's day in 1961 when it was minus 20 degrees and he walked from work to home because the roads were too slippery to drive on.

 

He watches a lot of t.v. but doesn't understand half of it. The other day, there was an ad for a new Kia model called Ionyk (sp?) and this confused him so much that he ended up having a tantrum over it. I tried to calm him down by explaining that car companies often come up with odd names for new models to catch peoples' attention but he was incensed that a Korean car manufacturer would give a model a Greek name and then misspell it. This became an obsession and he went on about it for so long that eventually, we all just left the room and let him rant on his own until he wore himself out.

 

What I came to realize was that the anger was over his confusion, not over the name of the car. He didn't understand the word in the ad, then when he did, it didn't make sense to him and instead of admitting that he just wasn't getting it, he went off on a tirade because he didn't know how else to vent his anger and frustration over his situation.

 

I love my dad and it pains me to watch these incidents, which are becoming more and more frequent. I'd love to hear from others with aging, difficult parents and how they cope. Sometimes, my patience is worn so thin that I think I'm going to say something terrible and I have to remind myself that none of this is his fault.

[+ ursalex]

My father was the nicest, sweetest man until he got dementia in his 80's, and he knew that something was wrong but couldn't put his finger on it. Like your father, he couldn't remember recent events and instructions (I once had to show him six times how to turn on the shower until I finally did it myself and told him to get in) but he could remember back 75 years without a problem. His whole personality changed, and it was extremely difficult for me, as his caregiver, especially as, at that time in my life, I was not blessed with a lot of patience.

We had a part-time home health aide and he would behave for her. In fact, my father would behave for anyone who was not a blood relative, but I got the tantrums and the frustrations.

I wish I could give you some advice. Probably the only thing I can suggest is to keep him active and engaged when possible. If he gets upset, try to change the subject; he may forget the original problem. There are a lot of books on the subject but I did not find them useful as my father was unwilling to engage in social activities with strangers.

His problems only lessened when, because of health issues, we had to place him in a nursing home. It wasn't an ideal situation but he generally behaved himself with the professional staff and I got very few phone calls.

Sadly, every day becomes an adventure and not necessarily a good one.

Good luck, have patience, and remember to tell your father you love him.

[+ WilliamM]

I was lucky, my mother realized she could not continue to live alone. By age 90, she was in a nearby nursing home, so I could visit after work most days. There were problems still. Nursing homes are very expensive. My dad's sister and her family were far more helpful than my brother. The bright spots: calling her from Australia several times; she was excited for me and herself & wanted as much information as possible.. Initially she made friends, but not as her memory faltered.

 

I send my best wishes.

[bigvalboy]

Dealing with aging parents can test your patience, your courage, and your faith. My parents lived into their 90's. I was blessed in that they had the means to hire the necessary help to make those last years as normal as possible, so their day to day care was a burden I didn't have to carry, but as my parents declined, both were gone within two years of each other, I saw their frustration in the loss of their independence and memory, the fear that their life was counted in months not years, and the difficulty dealing with the seemingly endless health issues. I promised myself that in those last few years, not one word of frustration or anger would cross my lips. I remember the time I took my dad's car away for the last time. My dad looked at me like a child would to a parent when they had done something wrong. To my dad it wasn't just a car, it was his independence, and I knew it scared the hell out of him. All I could do was to hold him for a moment, and tell him that it was going to be OK.

 

So I would say to you, take each day as it comes. Everyone's situation is different. Only you know your parents well enough to adjust to their needs, and try to put yourself in their shoes and see the world through their eyes. I can't help but think that my parents must have been going through hell.

 

For yourself...I say count your blessings, live each day to the fullest, for tomorrow is promised to no one. In my final days and hours, I want to look back at a life well lived with no regrets. I saw the ravages of old age consume both my parents, and realized how fleeting life really was. I've come to terms with most of it, and pray that as my own life winds down, that the pain is not too great and the days not too long.

[foxy]

I feel your pain. My mother had every physical ailment you could name but her mind was totally sound. She lived to 92 and her doctor said she should have died 10 years before. She wound up in a nursing home and hated every second. She died in front of me because she wanted to. I was relieved and heartbroken at the same time. This is the future that scares me which I try not to think about but we are all facing. I have an aunt whose 99 and will live forever. But she's spending $10,000 a month to live in her own home with wonderful care. She will be broke in a year.

[+ Charlie]

I recognized this dynamic as soon as I started reading your post, because it is the same one I have been observing as it develops in my spouse, who is in the early stages of dementia. Some days, he doesn't even understand his favorite comics in the paper, and I have to explain them to him. It is not an inevitable consequence of aging, but it is fairly common. I even see it in myself at times, as I struggle to remember the right word for exactly what I want to say, a problem I never had when I was younger and had a a huge vocabulary always available for instant recall. It is hard to be patient with someone, including oneself, when he/you can't be depended upon to do or understand what you used to take for granted that he/you could do or understand. The only counsel is to take a deep breath and try to be patient and accepting, because it won't get better.

[BasketBaller]

My grandma is 95 and is physically frail, but still pretty good mentally. She uses a walker at home and needs a wheelchair anywhere else. My dad is her main caregiver, and if he wasn't my hero before, he is now. A no-nonsense, tough retired Naval officer, it's amazing to watch him care for her and keep her active. She needs help bathing and using the toilet, and he is there for her. Her short-term memory is poor, which makes her very repetitive since she doesn't remember having just said the same thing.My dad never once points it out and just responds each time. My mom, my brothers and I do what we can, and so do her grandkids, but she's happiest with dad. And if anybody compliments him on it, the old salt comes out and he says, "She did it for me, I can do it for her."

[foxy]

My husband of 42 years died 2 1/2 years ago. So now I live in a large house by myself. I have a number of wonderful friends I see frequently but still find most of the time I'm by myself. I've kiddingly said to friends "how will I know when or if I'm losing my mind?" I carry my cell phone with me all the time since I have a four story house and am often up and down stairs, sometimes late at night when I can't sleep. It's not dying that's so awful. It's the road that leads to it that worries me.

[+ honcho]

My father was the nicest, sweetest man until he got dementia in his 80's .... His whole personality changed, and it was extremely difficult for me, as his caregiver, especially as, at that time in my life, I was not blessed with a lot of patience....

We had a part-time home health aide and he would behave for her. In fact, my father would behave for anyone who was not a blood relative, but I got the tantrums and the frustrations.

His problems only lessened when, because of health issues, we had to place him in a nursing home. It wasn't an ideal situation but he generally behaved himself with the professional staff and I got very few phone calls.

 

My mother just turned 90 and is also hip deep in senior dementia, but in total denial about it.

 

She was always way, way, WAY academically smart, but totally lacking in common sense. Ever the optimist, she took too many risks with her career, and now has no property, no savings, and no pension. Just social security. period.

 

Even when young, she could be charming to her friends, but beligerant and unappreciative towards anybody she regarded as family. She seemed to believe that her family owed her something and she could just mooch or demand.

 

She's living in southern california in a board and care situation; it's not a skilled nursing facility.

 

She met and charmed her caretakers when there were they booth-guards at a subsidized senior apartment complex about 10 years ago. They could sense when something wasn't quite right, and started dropping in, making sure she was eating and

have been total saints.

 

She got behind on her payments, and consequently the power company shut her off more than once. Her reaction was

to use the life-alert button and summon police and fire.

 

The complex manager called in a social worker, but my mom managed to convince the social worker *there was nothing wrong with her*.

 

She completely had worn out her welcome with her brother, a physician, who got to the point where he refused to have anything to do with her ever again. She never got along with my sister when my sister was growing up, and my sister

lives 9 time zones away these days, and has issues of her own (dealing with a schizophrenic son).

 

The booth guards had a couple of other boarders, but when space became available they took her in. I've visited;

they are warm-hearted trustworthy people with an extended family, who drop by frequently. I've also overheard

times where my mom started throwing a tantrum while I happened to be on a phone call, and it renewed my memories about how hurtful she can be choosing her words to have the maximum painful effect.

 

I think it is somewhat less awful for them to deal with her than it would be for me since they are *not* blood relatives,

but the wife told me that she's had to excuse herself and walk around the block on several occasions to recover her composure and patience. The kind lady sort of laughed about it, but I still am envious of her ability to distance herself when necessary.

 

I haven't added a "like" to any of these postings. It's truly awful to witness; my heart goes out to each of you - I really do understand.

[bigvalboy]

My mother just turned 90 and is also hip deep in senior dementia, but in total denial about it.

 

She was always way, way, WAY academically smart, but totally lacking in common sense. Ever the optimist, she took too many risks with her career, and now has no property, no savings, and no pension. Just social security. period.

 

Even when young, she could be charming to her friends, but beligerant and unappreciative towards anybody she regarded as family. She seemed to believe that her family owed her something and she could just mooch or demand.

 

She's living in southern california in a board and care situation; it's not a skilled nursing facility.

 

She met and charmed her caretakers when there were they booth-guards at a subsidized senior apartment complex about 10 years ago. They could sense when something wasn't quite right, and started dropping in, making sure she was eating and

have been total saints.

 

She got behind on her payments, and consequently the power company shut her off more than once. Her reaction was

to use the life-alert button and summon police and fire.

 

The complex manager called in a social worker, but my mom managed to convince the social worker *there was nothing wrong with her*.

 

She completely had worn out her welcome with her brother, a physician, who got to the point where he refused to have anything to do with her ever again. She never got along with my sister when my sister was growing up, and my sister

lives 9 time zones away these days, and has issues of her own (dealing with a schizophrenic son).

 

The booth guards had a couple of other boarders, but when space became available they took her in. I've visited;

they are warm-hearted trustworthy people with an extended family, who drop by frequently. I've also overheard

times where my mom started throwing a tantrum while I happened to be on a phone call, and it renewed my memories about how hurtful she can be choosing her words to have the maximum painful effect.

 

I think it is somewhat less awful for them to deal with her than it would be for me since they are *not* blood relatives,

but the wife told me that she's had to excuse herself and walk around the block on several occasions to recover her composure and patience. The kind lady sort of laughed about it, but I still am envious of her ability to distance herself when necessary.

 

I haven't added a "like" to any of these postings. It's truly awful to witness; my heart goes out to each of you - I really do understand.

 

Prayers to you tonight Honcho...

[+ jeezopete]

Your stories break my heart. My mother is just 20 years older than I am and we’ve always been close (except for some of my teen years when I was a real smartass). We’re best friends & the thought of what the future may bring for her scares me more than anything else.

Blessings to you during your current & coming challenges.

[+ OliverSaks]

Please, please, please:

 

I would encourage many of you to consult Palliative care to help with some of your difficult situations.

 

Palliative care is specialized medical care for people with serious illness. This type of care is focused on providing relief from the symptoms and stress of a serious illness. The goal is to improve quality of life for both the patient and the family.

 

Palliative care is not the same as hospice care; hospice falls under the umbrella of palliative care, but hospice is specifically for people who are expected to live less than 6 months. Neither palliative nor hospice care imply that you stop treating patients with the utmost care; quality of life and a respecting a patient's wishes take priority (often with family involvement)

 

"Being Mortal" by Atul Gawande - sheds some light on some of these issues, but I'm more than happy to PM with anyone interested in learning more or who might have any questions.

 

Palliative care docs have consistently blown me away with their humanistic, kind approach to patient care. These docs are a fresh breath into medical teams where sometimes quantity, not quality, of life is the primary outcome.

 

-0S

[LADoug1]

By the time my grandmother was 102 her short term memory had declined to a point where conversations were for the part circular with lots of repetition. She was fixated on certain topics from the past especially a few songs. It was rather sad and tedious. But I decided on one visit to just sit and sing with her. We sang "Alexander's Rag Time Band ". Turns out it was our last visit before she died. I'll never forget the experience.

[whipped guy]

This is the short version...

 

I was the primary caretaker for my dad... He almost made it to ninety and missed it by a few weeks. He was legally blind and used a walker or wheel chair depending on the situation. Actually I should say walkers in the plural. There was one to use in the house, one to get from the house to the car, and another that was always in the car. So I have inherited quite a collection for my old age.

 

He knew how to push my buttons so as to make me miserable, but I think that brought him pleasure... and the only real pleasure in his life. His memory was still good though he did tend to rewrite history at times and I think that was done intentionally to push my buttons as well. I could be sitting in a room with him and he would not say a word to me. The minute I left to do something such as cook dinner he would suddenly ask a million questions, and just when I would not want to be distracted. Again pushing those buttons. When I would answer from the other room he would say that he could not hear... so I would speak louder.... he still could not hear... so louder.... and again louder. He would then chastise me for yelling at him. Saying that it was I who was always being mean to him! When I would want to do something in or to the house to make an improvement he would not agree. "You can do that after I'm dead and gone, but not now... and perhaps you want me dead and gone. After I'm gone you do what you want, but that's a stupid thing to do!" So the guilt trip to this very day kicks in every time I do something of which he had disapproved... Yes , being made to feel guilty was his objective.

 

I often said that he brought me into this world and now it was his goal to remove me from the world. Still, I did what I needed to do... even if I did not always do it with a smile on my face... but I did it all and then some even though there were shortcomings involved on my part. So no regrets at all and while I can't get the guilt factor totally out of my mind looking back at all the good times that I spent with him over the years more than made up for his final years.

 

Oh, and as you might imagine during those final years doing the BDSM thing as both Dom and sub is what often helped me to keep my sanity. The combination of taking out one's frustrations on someone else plus being punished for my own shortcomings as necessary along the way was the perfect stress reliever. Fortunately there were several escorts who were willing to be versatile enough in that regard to help me keep my sanity. There were three in particular and all are now retired. I can't thank them enough.

[+ SundayZip]

Alright, I'll come out and say it. I often look forward to the day that my mother is gone. I suspect this is a sentiment that others have felt but do not want to say it out loud. My mother is 94, a widow, in assisted living and not a happy person. When I hear the stories of people dealing with a parent's loss of memory and autonomy (and continence), I totally get it. It would be one thing if she had a positive outlook and did not resent efforts to help, but her response is usually complaints and resistance. And yet I visit at least once a week, help pay her bills, deal with issues and consult with facility staff... and I pretend that I'm enjoying the visit. Friends have said to me that I should be thankful that my mother is still alive. I smile and say nothing.

[+ WmClarke]

Please, please, please:

 

I would encourage many of you to consult Palliative care to help with some of your difficult situations.

 

Palliative care is specialized medical care for people with serious illness. This type of care is focused on providing relief from the symptoms and stress of a serious illness. The goal is to improve quality of life for both the patient and the family.

 

Palliative care is not the same as hospice care; hospice falls under the umbrella of palliative care, but hospice is specifically for people who are expected to live less than 6 months. Neither palliative nor hospice care imply that you stop treating patients with the utmost care; quality of life and a respecting a patient's wishes take priority (often with family involvement)

 

"Being Mortal" by Atul Gawande - sheds some light on some of these issues, but I'm more than happy to PM with anyone interested in learning more or who might have any questions.

 

Palliative care docs have consistently blown me away with their humanistic, kind approach to patient care. These docs are a fresh breath into medical teams where sometimes quantity, not quality, of life is the primary outcome.

 

-0S

^^This.

 

The most important staff we relied on last fall. Amazing people.

[gallahadesquire]

Please, please, please:

 

I would encourage many of you to consult Palliative care to help with some of your difficult situations.

 

Palliative care is specialized medical care for people with serious illness. This type of care is focused on providing relief from the symptoms and stress of a serious illness. The goal is to improve quality of life for both the patient and the family.

 

Palliative care is not the same as hospice care; hospice falls under the umbrella of palliative care, but hospice is specifically for people who are expected to live less than 6 months. Neither palliative nor hospice care imply that you stop treating patients with the utmost care; quality of life and a respecting a patient's wishes take priority (often with family involvement)

 

"Being Mortal" by Atul Gawande - sheds some light on some of these issues, but I'm more than happy to PM with anyone interested in learning more or who might have any questions.

 

Palliative care docs have consistently blown me away with their humanistic, kind approach to patient care. These docs are a fresh breath into medical teams where sometimes quantity, not quality, of life is the primary outcome.

 

-0S

 

IIRC, there was a recent study about "Palliative" care, where the goals of medicine stopped going from getting better to living life well. People did live well … and for longer.

[+ Charlie]

Alright, I'll come out and say it. I often look forward to the day that my mother is gone. I suspect this is a sentiment that others have felt but do not want to say it out loud. My mother is 94, a widow, in assisted living and not a happy person. When I hear the stories of people dealing with a parent's loss of memory and autonomy (and continence), I totally get it. It would be one thing if she had a positive outlook and did not resent efforts to help, but her response is usually complaints and resistance. And yet I visit at least once a week, help pay her bills, deal with issues and consult with facility staff... and I pretend that I'm enjoying the visit. Friends have said to me that I should be thankful that my mother is still alive. I smile and say nothing.

I understand the feeling, and I think it is human to feel uncomfortable about wanting to be relieved of the burden of holding on to a loved one to the bitter end. I took care of my mother for several years when she was in her 90s, and then she lived on in assisted living, and then a nursing home, until she was 102. She had almost no dementia, she had always been a good mother, and she did not complain often. But she made it clear that she wished she had been able to die sooner and was not hanging on willingly, so it was hard for me to be thankful that she was still alive, as so many people told me I should feel. I resented having to design my own life around the responsibility for her care (there were no other family members to do it), especially since I was getting old myself and there were things I really wanted to do while I still could do them, but they were things that made it appear to others that I was abandoning my responsibility. It's hard not to feel somewhat guilty when other people think you should feel guilty, even when you know that your true feeling is a more rational response to the situation.

[+ Kufrol]

To paraphrase Bruno Bettelheim, there's a fine line between guilt and responsibility; the former traps us, the latter makes us human. I admire and respect anyone who cares for the elderly, especially a family member. What a powerful thread.

[actor61]

There have been so many Mommie Dearest type books over the years about parents who emotionally, sexually, physically abused their children but I hope someday someone will write a book about "normal" parents and the havoc they can wreak unknowingly and unintentionally. I come from very complicated, difficult parents but they always tried their best with us. We knew we were loved. We never went hungry, we never went without anything, we were shown the world, and handed experiences that few others of our generation could dream of but there was always an undercurrent with them that was somewhat hostile, somewhat selfish and always kind of angry. My father couldn't keep his dick in his pants and was unfaithful to my mother at every opportunity that came his way. When I got older, they both started confiding in me and it was embarrassing, alarming, and unfair of them to talk about their sex lives to a teenager. If I protested, I was accused of selfishness. So, I moved away at the age of 20. My mother is negative, judgmental and egocentric. She is also gorgeous, funny, charming, smart and wonderful company. My father is boorish, inappropriate and a hound but also loving, kind, open minded, fair and welcoming to anyone who approaches him. They are both now in their 90s, and detest each other, which makes visits to them painful and tense. Mother sits on her bed, wrings her hands and exclaims, "I just can't stand him anymore", and dad sits in the living room rattling the ice in his drink and weeping about his situation. He made some very, very bad business decisions and their resources are limited now. We found a home for dad that was affordable and offered good care but it was my mother who refused to put him there. Instead, she wants to suffer and gets furious if the rest of us refuse to suffer with her. Her reason for not letting dad go into care was, "Then I'd have to visit him. He might as well be here."

 

People love their kids in their own ways, and their children love them back as well as they can but even the most well intentioned people can screw up in monumental ways. That's the book that should be written.

[+ Kufrol]

There have been so many Mommie Dearest type books over the years about parents who emotionally, sexually, physically abused their children but I hope someday someone will write a book about "normal" parents and the havoc they can wreak unknowingly and unintentionally. I come from very complicated, difficult parents but they always tried their best with us. We knew we were loved. We never went hungry, we never went without anything, we were shown the world, and handed experiences that few others of our generation could dream of but there was always an undercurrent with them that was somewhat hostile, somewhat selfish and always kind of angry. My father couldn't keep his dick in his pants and was unfaithful to my mother at every opportunity that came his way. When I got older, they both started confiding in me and it was embarrassing, alarming, and unfair of them to talk about their sex lives to a teenager. If I protested, I was accused of selfishness. So, I moved away at the age of 20. My mother is negative, judgmental and egocentric. She is also gorgeous, funny, charming, smart and wonderful company. My father is boorish, inappropriate and a hound but also loving, kind, open minded, fair and welcoming to anyone who approaches him. They are both now in their 90s, and detest each other, which makes visits to them painful and tense. Mother sits on her bed, wrings her hands and exclaims, "I just can't stand him anymore", and dad sits in the living room rattling the ice in his drink and weeping about his situation. He made some very, very bad business decisions and their resources are limited now. We found a home for dad that was affordable and offered good care but it was my mother who refused to put him there. Instead, she wants to suffer and gets furious if the rest of us refuse to suffer with her. Her reason for not letting dad go into care was, "Then I'd have to visit him. He might as well be here."

 

People love their kids in their own ways, and their children love them back as well as they can but even the most well intentioned people can screw up in monumental ways. That's the book that should be written.

 

I think you just wrote the preface. What a forthright and candid post!

[+ OliverSaks]

IIRC, there was a recent study about "Palliative" care, where the goals of medicine stopped going from getting better to living life well. People did live well … and for longer.

You're absolutely correct.

Palliative care patients tend to do better (longer and happier lives, on average, according to the literature)

 

A Netflix documentary, "Extremis," which is only 24 minutes long, is potent and relevant to my previous posts in this thread. Hope some of you will take a watch.

[+ deej]

You all have my sympathy. Personally, dad died on his 54th birthday and mom died at 72, both from the same form of cancer. (Yeah, I have THAT target on my back.) I never lived through a family member expressing the anger of losing touch with the world around them. It's understandable!

 

I'm living through it now, though, through a former teacher who is as close to a family member as a teacher can be. His son invited me to his 80th birthday celebration because "you're a part of him!".

 

He's big, he's strong, and he's losing touch with reality and it pisses him off (understandably). He has started to lash out. I've started to get calls from his wife asking "can you talk to him? he listens to you."

 

Even with palliative care, senior care can get precarious when dementia enters the picture. It's all too difficult to pinpoint when care should be handed off to the pros.

 

In my experience sooner is better than later.

[+ poolboy48220]

My mother died about 4 years ago, after a good 10-15 years of health problems, but sharp until the end. My father's had borderline dementia since before my mother died (can't remember his granddaughter's name occasionally either). He's living on his own for the first time ever, just he and his dog in the house. My older sister & I visit him weekly to bring him dinner, and it's trying. I regret I didn't make more time to see both my parents more frequently while my mother was still around; I was always there to help out during her frequent health crises, but somehow was always too busy to just visit for dinner when she was well.

[+ SundayZip]

I'm curious... are there any here who have found themselves being a caretaker for an ageing parent who has refused to accept them as being gay? If so, have you ever wondered, as you help them with their meds or roll them down the hall in their wheelchair, why the f*** am I doing this?