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As we each get older, I think more and more people understand; first hand, some of the issues of caring for an aging parent. I guess in a way we should all be thankful that our overall health allows for us to enjoy a long life, 
but this means that we have more and more older Americans who will need, at some point in their life, help with care. My husband and I are part of a family that rallies together to take care of our beloved dad. Dad was once the town doctor, an osteopath actually. He delivered, cared or healed almost everyone in this small town. In 2000 he was able to retire after a worthy career. Three years ago my father-in-law had a stroke. Dad can no longer walk, use his left arm or care for himself at all. Ed and I only share in his caring every other weekend due to the distance we are from home, but his needs are 24 hours a day. 
There are things that dad just can’t remember anymore. He doesn’t know what year it is. I don’t think he really know who I am. He thinks his best friend is still alive. We don’t try to correct him anymore…it just seems cruel. There are thing that he does remember though. He knows his children. He professes his love for his wife often! He plays a mean game of dominoes.
He remembers how to be a doctor. If you list for him a set of symptoms, he’ll tell you what tests should be run, or flat out what’s wrong. I find this both odd and intriguing that this part of his brain is still so sharp, but the rest isn’t.
The difficulties of caring for someone at home are more challenging then you might think. Dad is a very healthy 5’ 10” man. Just getting him in and out of bed is a two person job. Thankfully, someone was kind enough to give us a mechanical lift to accomplish this daily task. Without it, I’m not sure our backs could hold up. To use it, we need to roll Dad from side to side in his bed to place a sling underneath him. We learned pretty quickly that while we do this, we need to make sure that the rails are up. If they remain down, Dad becomes very frightened that he will fall out of bed. At first being lifted so high above the ground was another alarming moment for Dad, but as the years have gone by, this no longer bothers him. I am thankful for that. 
Meal time has become another challenge. Without the use of his left arm, (and a weak right arm) my father-in-law has a difficult time feeding himself. It’s important to all of us that Dad is able to feed himself. We found something called a plate guard for him, so that he can scoop his food onto his fork.
I never thought about how hard it would be to eat with only one hand, but if you try it, you’ll be surprised at how much effort it can take. Even with the plate guard, Dad sometimes gets “stuck” and won’t eat what’s on his fork until everything he wants is on there. The difficulty with this is that since Dads stroke, he has a hard time asking for help. What this means is that sometimes he’ll holds his fork on the side of his plate until someone notices that he missed a pea. I try hard to pay close attention so he doesn’t have to wait too long.
One of the more difficult things to keep track of each day is what meds Dad needs. Which ones have been given and which ones still need to be taken. I think each meal is preceded by either pills or liquid medicines. Some are more important them others. It’s hard for me to know which is which. I’m amazing at just how many are consumed each day. On the table with each meal is a bowl filled the pills needed at that time. This is the easiest way to keep them straight and to make sure that he’s gotten what he needs. 
I recently read that the average number of prescriptions filled for the elderly is 4/month. A total of 9-13 different scripts can be written each year. Some people take much more.
Some prescriptions are written monthly and are taken daily. Some medicines are filled every three months, but 
taken only every other day. Some pills are crushed, some are not. Other are taken twice a day, and some need to be taken with each meal. What happens though if you decide to eat a late breakfast and no lunch at all? This one task can be so very overwhelming for the caretakers. Coming up with a rhythm is hard when things can change so often.
After all the business of essential care is done, what is left is “down time”. This is the hardest time for me when it comes to caring for Dad. I’m never really sure what to do. The silence in the house; at times, can become unreal. Maybe Dad would like to watch TV (what does he want to see?). How about read a magazine (can he actually read the words?)
Sometimes he likes to sit at the kitchen table and look out the window (is he just bored dumb?) It’s at this time I feel the most helpless, I think maybe Dad does too…but there’s no way we can talk about it. I hope somehow he understands we’re doing the best we know how.
The transformation of being your parents child, to becoming your parents caretaker is difficult for everyone involved. I know my father-in-law still struggles to accept this change. The need for both understanding and continued respect is a must if this role reversal is going to work at all. The care my father-in-law receives is a reflection of this. Each time I am there, I not only see a testimony to how my husband and his sisters were raised, but also to who they’ve become. I sure hope Ed and I have taught this to our children as well. I’m beginning to understand just how much we might someday need them to care for us too.
(c) 2012 Dana M. Gray | Grayspace Studios
