Girlfriends' Guide To Parenting Your Parents: They Are So Hard To Discipline
I only have one parent left out of two biologicals and two in-laws and I cherish her, honestly, I do. But after this week, I'm dangerously close to taking up smoking (which, by the way, she does with great commitment; I'm convinced it's her scheme to keep herself ineligible for all senior living communities in California) or throwing Momma from the train. She doesn't seem to want to die yet, and I certainly want her to live for many more years, but she just won't work with me on this.
Old age is not for wussies. I am keenly aware of all the little murders aging commits each day. It's not just the Big Three Diseases, cancer, heart disease and Alzheimer's that lurk around in wait for the aged to take advantage of weakened immune systems and, but the daily assaults like falling, shingles (who knew?) and sadness. I have so much compassion for my shrinking little mommy, at least when I'm not haranguing her, admonishing her, begging her and cajoling her to do things like take her medication, take a shower, floss her teeth or get up and go for a walk with me.
After the illnesses and eventual passing of my in-laws and my father, I'm REALLY accustomed to the big catastrophes; heart attacks, intestinal blockages, massive infections and falls and I'm pretty capable of basic triage, catheters and 911 calls. Actually, I'm the one you want to call to handle a crisis--it fits my temperament to be clear and decisive in the face of disaster. But these huge abruptions cost me dearly in the rest of my life. I can pull two all-nighters in intensive care, but I can't also drive kids to school, write, return emails and make calls. Plus, it ages me! No fair that being a hero leaves me looking like crap.
But old people are so damn stubborn! They are absolutely determined to resist and undermine what seem to me to be sensible maintenance issues that we, their loving children spend at least as much time trying to enforce as we do caring for them. Rules like not secretly canceling doctor's appointments, being polite to caregivers and not burning the house down seem simple enough to abide by. My own mother has refused dental care for several years saying that she hardly has any of her own teeth left and, besides, she brushes every day. Then she gets a toothache, we rush her to the dentist and after half a day of x-rays and a CAT scan, and we learn that she has three abscesses and massive infection. I make the appointment for the surgery and, SURPRISE! She refuses to attend.
One of my girlfriends has two parents nearing ninety who live out of town. When she returned from her last caretaking visit I asked how they were. "How bad can you be and not be dead?" she snapped. It's not only their respective Big Three Diseases that are wearing on her, but the fact that they also fire their caretakers at least once a week when she is not around. Fortunately for her, she realized recently that she could just send the terminated workers back to her parents and introduce them as new employees and her parents wouldn't be the wiser.
The problem with my own mother, I think, is that she sees her demise as one single event. She wants to believe that her mind and lungs and heart and teeth and liver will all work together, in a spite of her refusal to take any special care of any of them, as a unit until the day she leaves this earth. Clearly, that isn't working for her, at least from my point of view. People often have to deal with a series of physical malfunctions for years before the end, but when I try to explain that to her, she listens with the same attention of a typical teenager. "My teeth will last me long enough--I'm not planning to live forever! It's those alarmist dentists; always trying to take your money," she finally explains as I look at her with a combination of horror and frustration. "But, Mom, you've got a head full of infection!" I yell, to which she replies, "It's in my mouth, NOT IN MY HEAD!" Somebody help me, please!
Money is a very big part of the problem, even when it really isn't. All my parents worried constantly about the cost of medical care, even when they had good insurance and Medicare. But as they got older and sicker they all developed profound mistrust of their doctors. They berated them mercilessly when they were frightened, they pouted and refused to cooperate and they seemed to believe it was the doctor who brought the disease, rather than the other way around. It becomes a war with the medical community, and occasionally us kids, as the enemy.
My father once told me that his doctors tried to kill him during his heart bypass operation. My mother-in-law pulled i.v. tubes from her own arm a couple of times and my own mother, who weighs about 95 lbs, had to be restrained by hospital security for refusing to abide by the nonsensical rule against smoking in hospitals. When the hospital cops call you and ask you to remove your parent, you can't be blamed for wishing you were an orphan.
I've learned that people who work in geriatrics call this crazy behavior "self-neglect," and suggest that it is often part of the depression that affects so many seniors.That's just so sad and I hate that our physical decline often sets our own minds against us like this. But my mom is only 21 years older than I am, and I don't know if I can survive her old age only to face my own immediately after.
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My 88 year old father is in the severe stage of Alzheimer's disease and my 85 year old mother is his caregiver. I moved them into assisted living last year in order to provide the help Mom needs to care for Dad. It has been a helluva year, but I wouldn't trade it for anything! I must admit, the role reversal of becoming their parent took some getting used to, but, I know for certain, being my parents was a very challenging role.
Watching my father decline and my mother mourn the loss of the man she has been married to for over sixty years has been heart wrenching. I realized long ago I couldn't do it alone, so I relied on my friends who introduced me to more friends who have the same concerns, issues and responsibilities. They are my allies for the times when I need to laugh, blow off steam, cry and vent. We've formed lasting bonds through our experiences and support for each other. I know my spouse and my children are eternally grateful for the improvement in my disposition.
My circle of friends has evolved to over twenty women and three men. The realities of the stories we share are touching, shocking, funny, and sad, but we all agree that the understanding and compassion we provide for each other somehow makes it seem bearable. Personally, I believe I'm a better caregiver as a result!
This is a generation raised “rough,” in the maelstrom that was the first half of the 20th Century; left to their own devices by adults struggling with incomprehensible and rapid change. As a generation, they were all in it together and they were left pretty much alone, fending for themselves inside large, careworn families and feisty neighborhoods. They stuck together, and stayed close to each other all their lives. Early on they had to become independent, then almost as quickly had to evolve into steel-spined fighters and survivors.
It made them possibly the toughest -- and most stubborn -- of any American generation ever born. Their impact will ripple through world history for decades, even centuries.
Nothing prepared them, could have prepared them, for the increasing helplessness and slipping control that characterize old age. While hard on everyone who lives to dotage, I can’t think of a generation that would find it more terrifying, infuriating and foreign than the generation that outlived and overpowered every major crisis and foe in their path – but now face an enemy over which they have no chance of survival, let alone victory.
Helping the WWIIs through this, the hardest time of their lives, may be the most important task their children can undertake – now that our own child-raising years are over.
Just my take on the stubborn people who have become my elderly parents.
Beautifully stated.
One of the best memories I have of my mother was when, the year before she died, she attended the assisted living center's Halloween party as the "dead bride". She wore white face paint, black lipstick, a long blond wig, a wedding veil, and a long white dress. My daugher, then age 10, helped with her costume. She was the hit of the party and no one recognized her until she told them. I treasure the picture we took of her that day. She would have never worn a costume like that in previous years. But she learned to enjoy life, take each day as it came, and to ignore the constant pain she suffered from a old bout with shingles. And she had terminal cancer. Yes, she was hard to work with at times. She refused to tell the doctor when she was really feeling bad so my husband or I had to be at every appointment. She was at times too positive for her own good. But regardless of the frustrations of taking care of her needs, I learned that it was important to remember that she was still an adult with the ability to make adult decisions about her life. Also, she had a wonderful oncologist who treated her carefully so that she never was bedridden until the final month before her death.
One of the most cutting burdens of dealing with an aging parent who is also emotionally difficult and abusive (just when does the mellowing begin? I was promised mellowing) is the judgment of those who are close enough to know better but who insist on dismissing the parent's behavior. The erratic bahavior I can rationalize, but the know-it-all neighbors and relatives are maddening.
My parents never had any hobbies, or so I thought. It now appears their doctor visits are their hobbie, and now they've become mine, since my parents can no longer drive and refuse to call for a senior ride!
A great resource is Richard Groves center for the Sacred Art of Living and Dying here in Oregon that is expanding across the nation. It is one of the first of its kind teaching people to be midwives for the dying, but also gives a good perspective on living with those nearing death - a but off topic, but still related.
As a Caregiver, one of the hardest lines to learn to walk is that the elderly are not children and though they may have similar needs as a child at a particular time, they still have their adult sensibilities. This is where the humor in this article is appreciated for those of us dealing with the beginnings of dementia in clients or parents who do not recognize their own limitations.
Another gift to nurture is the art of caring that listens to a story for the umpteenth time as if it were the very first hearing. Looking to their enthusiasm and expression helps to make it infectious instead of playing the counting game.
Often I tell my clients that they are limited but not diminished ever in my eyes. But there are days when I want to enroll myself, or them, into the space program to fly off to the moon. For those days, this article is greatly appreciated.
Just got off the phone with my elderly parents and goodness, your piece was most welcome! How do I persuade my father to hire someone to do the yard work? Is there some way I might convince them to use their dishwasher rather than washing them in the sink? (My father thinks it uses too much water and energy which raises their bill.) And yes, both are madly suspicious of "money grubbing" doctors! There are many other problems, and I know they will eventually move in with me. I am not looking forward to the tussles about heating (when I visit in the winter I feel as if I'm in a sauna) and other delights to come. But then, I think of how wonderful they have been to me all my life and feel so guilty.
I look forward to more on this topic, Vicki!
Are doctors worthy of our trust? All they do is shove pills at us.
My Mom when in my care was on a vegetarian diet and I had her down to three medications, when she was moved to a home they quickly prescribed stuff she didn't need. It took letters and calls and lots of meddling to get it down to the three she was on- they finally understood that we feel less is more.
You ask a good question. From being in the business for years and being with my own father until his death, it is easy to observe the absolute tendency to over-medicate with almost no intelligent communication about the interaction with other prescribed medicines.
One of my clients called the police on me because she could not recognize her own home after a walk, and then accused me of not allowing her to go home. She was a victim of so many behavioral medicine changes that her system could not adjust. One of my clients reads the contraindications from the pharmacy sheet (hey, they make me scared to take anything!) and then refuses to take certain meds, even if they are needed.
Too often doctors have been allowed to patronize elderly clients who either totally mistrust them or think they are deity. All diminished elderly clients need to have advocates like yourself, who aren't willing to merely allow doctors to shove pills down their loved ones throats and call it treatment. Good for you.
I am primary caregiver to my hubby @ 91 yrs. young and my mom @ 89 yrs. young. I have found it to be a major adjustment going from a reciprocal spouse to caregiving spouse. Fortunately, my Mom continues to enjoy fantastic health - a saving grace for me. Your article is so "right on" - esp. when I read the remark about "I am going to die anyway"! I hear that at least once a day, esp. when my hubby doesn't want to do something for his own good or take his meds. He is very healthy considering his age; remains quite mobile and we enjoy 2 or 3 cruises/yr. Yet his mild dementia and absence of short term memory keep me on my toes.
The average person in an assistant living facility takes fifteen (15) medications a day!
There is a reason why these wise older people distrusted doctors, because doctors are few and far between that actually listen more and prescribe less.
I certainly can relate to this article; funny when one can take a few steps away from the situation, exhausting when immersed in the reality of it all.
All assisted living places should have locations where where elders can smoke, and get a glass or two of wine or beer when they wish. Our elders are people, not prisoners. They are our parents, and deserve what amenities they wish . So what is so wrong about a few glasses of wine or a smoke when you are 90+. My fear is that I will be taken to a place that does not allow wine, or where I can no longer use the corkscrew. Again, the issue is helping elders be the people they are as long as possible. When they become prisoners, they die quickly.
I recall (in Canada) on a geriatrics ward, an elderly man who had a long hospital stay was allowed his nightly night cap, before bedtime. They honoured his long-time habit and didn't interfere. I think not allowing alcohol consumption in care homes at present is about liability because so many elderly people are on various medications.
Amen! Why not let people end their days doing as they please? It seems almost criminal not to.
Being a caretaker isn't easy, mostly I think because people insist on doing too much care taking. Old people, of which I am almost one (try that for a messed up sentence!) remind me of that saying about the people who are really sane are the ones inside the mental facility.
If I had to do it over again with my mom, which I desperately wish I could, I would let her eat what she wanted, drink what she wanted, smoke if she wanted to, avoid medications, ignore the doctor, lay around doing whatever she pleased. She knew she was old, knew she was close to death, knew who she was and what she wanted. She'd been there, seen it all, done it all. We would have both been happier if I would have sat down, shut up, and just been there.
Thank you on behalf of geezers.
You just made this old ladies day!
Ah, you got to love them. ( I love the elderly)
How quickly we forget that they spent many a night taking care of us when the only way we could communicate was by crying or screaming our heads off because of some type of discomfort : hunger, thirst, wet diaper, sickness, fear, loneliness, frustrated in not being able to communicate.
Remember that they are frustrated, scared of dying, and are lonely. Learn to enjoy this brief moment with them now because they will not be there forever. So, sit down, shut up, and just be there for them- they do love you too.
Here is a great resource for caregivers: http://lac
And for those who would like to better understand the aging process please visit: www.usc.ed
The USC Davis School of Gerontology is the first school of its kind, and has long set the standard for aging research and education.
By offering a multi-disciplinary perspective of aging (biology, psychology, sociology, and public policy), the USC Davis School provides an all encompassing understanding of the process that affects us all.
PS they offer all of their master's/graduate certificate courses online as well as in-person!
Thanks for sharing the resources! this is such a timely issue - it seems like everyone I know (young boomers) is dealing with this issue, some better, some worse.
God bless the caretakers, by blood or by hire.
Am determined that my spouse and I plan for our inevitable decline. We're getting financial advice from credible, reputable sources, looking at long-term care insurance and assisted-living communities, shedding "stuff" we don't need a little at a time, and writing down our wishes in the event of incapacity.
And, yes, taking care of ourselves now, in middle-age. That includes keeping positive, courteous and flexible.
Our parents had so much more freedom in their lives than we do today. They would have been appalled at smoking restrictions in restaurants and everywhere, they could ride their bicycles to school safely every day, they were given a lot of responsibility early in life and were not mollycoddled growing up.
So, they don't like being dependent on someone else, being told they can't smoke, being watched all the time, etc. My dad stayed sassy and independent until he died. It was like Custer's last stand every day.
But, he did it his way.
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