'I do care but that doesn't make me a great carer'

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

For those of us lucky enough to see our parents live to what's generally considered a decent age, this does come with their inevitable sad decline, both mentally and physically.

Master of his herd. Or maybe not.

From being the guardians and providers of their children, the roles then get reversed in many families. It's the offspring who become the guardians of the parents.

There is, though, one major difference: Most parents who care for their children do so with the expectation that their young ones will grow up to become self-sufficient, to be independent (as independent as one can be, that is).

With elderly parents — and the elderly in general — it's the opposite. The trajectory is towards dependence. It's like they become children again. In some cases, they require as much care as newborns. Of course, not all elderly go the same way before they breathe their last. Some do remain active and with it up to their final months and days.

Care necessities

With my own parents, at the risk of sounding facetious here, if we could merge my mother's physical fitness with my father's mental acuity, we'd have a fairly robust individual — robust considering the ages in question anyway. My mother is a few years shy of her 80th birthday, my father is already an octogenarian.

As it is, a life of toil appears to have taken its toll on the body of my father. That and arthritis. As for my mother, she's afflicted with Alzheimer's, the 'disease that gnaws away at the kernel of who you are, leaving only the dry empty husk of the person you love behind', as I heard it accurately, if depressingly, put recently.

All this makes for visits to my parents that are more melancholic than filled with the making of new, positive, memorable moments. It's hard not to think back to livelier times, even if they weren't always happy. Nostalgia can be rather nefarious.

That I haven't regularly seen my parents over the last decade-plus plays a part in this.

'My mother used to be able to find anything. She was like St Anthony's representative on Earth. Now she's the one who misplaces almost everything.'

There's also the fact that my own situation is far from stable. Over the last few years, I've done more pondering than producing. Indeed, returning to the house I grew up in to help out on the farm and whatnot is, in a way, a welcome departure. And, somewhat shamefully, I'm happy to avail of the rent-free board. However, this positivity is nothing more than temporary. After a few days, it brings little to no satisfaction because of my overall uncertainty. I start to think I'm better off lost in Colombia's llanos than lost in Lisacul.

I wager such thoughts are made worse by the fact that I am childless. Were I a father, I probably wouldn't be in a position to be under the same roof as my parents for weeks on end. Also, I most likely wouldn't have the time nor the luxury to be so reflective. Or to be picky about potential employment. One can be guilty of overthinking.

Omniscient offspring

Yet, even if my own situation were more stable, I don't think I'd make for a great carer, even just occasionally, of my now more dependent parents.

With my mother, as much as I know that there's a disease taking over her brain, I still find it difficult to overlook all the frustrating things she says and does.

From somebody who seemed to be able to find anything — she was like St Anthony's representative on Earth — now she's the one who misplaces almost everything.

One dubious positive with her condition is that any disagreement or argument we may now have is forgotten by her moments later. If only this had been the case when I was a teenager.

In my father's case, while he's clearly physically impaired, he is largely refusing to accept that he can't operate like he did even just ten years ago. While I wish he would scale down what he has to manage to levels that he can personally carry out, he's still scaling up.

OK, I think I understand the mindset. To show weakness is to become weak. So he's manifesting strength and growth.

The problem is, he needs assistance for many of the tasks under his control. Caring for the cattle he currently has is, at times, beyond his capabilities. Yet, right now, he's firing ahead with what I consider to be an unnecessary, fairly substantial farmyard construction project. From what I can see, there's more than enough to keep him busy if he tried to clean up and organise what he already has — fix what's already broken. Or at least what's already terribly untidy.

It's why I find it difficult to enthusiastically offer a helping hand. But hey, if it makes him happy, fine.

We could do with a version of this for the elderly.

Thinking about all this does remind me of a sign that used to hang in our kitchen when I was a child: 'Teenagers, tired of being harassed by your stupid parents? Act now! Move out, get a job, pay your bills while you still know everything.'

A version for those in their twilight years would run something like this: 'Senior citizens, tired of being harassed by your stupid adult children/relatives? Act now! Downsize, hire non-judgemental home help and enjoy what's left of your hard-earned money while you still can.'

'While you still can', indeed. We all must succumb at some stage.
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Fly on through the turbulence — there is no better alternative

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

'Please secure your own oxygen mask first before helping others to secure theirs.'

That epigraph is, as some of you will be aware, advice given to passengers by aeroplane cabin crew in the event of an emergency that requires oxygen masks to be worn on board.

'When you're going through hell, keep going.'

Harmful help

Those with a more narcissistic personality may wonder why such a message is needed at all. 'Eh, I always look after number one first.'

However, parents travelling with young children or those who are with more vulnerable companions might be tempted to assist these others before attending to themselves. So I've heard it said, anyway. I almost always fly solo (my life motto, in many ways!).

Now, for parents, taking care of one's young children is — or at least should be — a priority, one that often means mother and/or father have to frequently forgo some personal wants.

Yet, there are times, like in the oxygen-mask scenario, when putting one's offspring first could do more harm than good to both child and parent.

A parent, naturally enough, is too emotionally involved and the innate desire to protect a child often overrides what objectively would be considered a more prudent, beneficial-for-all-concerned approach.

We're all at risk of such behaviour when it comes to those we hold dear or to whom we feel indebted.

Care necessities

My return to Ireland and subsequent extended stay have had elements of this at play.

With my parents entering their twilight years and with an amount of flexibility on my side in terms of being available to help out where possible and required, I figured I could be at least of some benefit by being physically closer to my family while I try to navigate through my own fog of uncertainty.

I am, also, a country boy at heart so mucking around with livestock on the family farm is something that I don't mind doing. What irks me is the farm's overall unkemptness. A sure-fire way of infuriating me is to ask me to clean up somebody else's mess.

'It's rather difficult for me to secure my own mask first for the fact that I don't even know where my mask is.'

At 80 years of age, the chances of my father suddenly turning to tidiness are between slim and none. Others will be left to confront this, what I view as chaos, when our father departs the land of the living.

That aside, I can say with some certainty that my occasional assistance has been appreciated by my father.

I'm far less certain that my being around my mother has been a net benefit. This is chiefly due to the demon dementia that is gradually taking hold of her.

I've found it difficult not to get annoyed when she buys yet more food that will only end up going to waste (I hate to see food being binned) or when she asks the same questions over and over and over again.

Thus, my annoyance has at times ended up annoying her. It has made me think that it might be mutually beneficial if I just left her to her own devices.

Of course, the most likely scenario is that her condition will deteriorate to the point where she'll put both herself and others at risk if left to fend for herself.

Should she live for another number of years — physically she's in decent enough shape — full-time care in a secure environment is what she will need.

Yes, a family member could take up this round-the-clock, predominantly thankless task, allowing her to stay in the family home. It would be, however, a significant undertaking for one person, something I touched on in a piece last year titled, The care necessities: Dealing with old age.

Such care from a family member is made even more difficult when the patient is merely the body of the person you once knew so well. Their mind and thus their actions become alien. The parasitic dementia is in control.

Don't mask me!

For me right now, all this is framed within my what-and-where-next predicament, in terms of both what to do income-wise and where to live.

In this mindset, it's rather difficult for me to secure my own mask first for the fact that I don't even know where my mask is. All I can say is that I'm fairly sure I won't find it in the west of Ireland at this moment in time. Fairly sure that is, not fully sure.

So while physical, real untidiness that I have to deal with angers me, my chaos, my mess is more of a mental kind.

Materially-wise, I mostly fall into the minimalist category so it's relatively easy to keep order compared to those who have lots of belongings. Yet, mentally, things are not that clear.

For sure, few if any of us go through life without the occasional emergency, those turbulent times when we hope that the metaphorical oxygen masks emerge to support us. It's just — on my career flight in particular — travelling through turbulence has become my norm over the last few years.

Nonetheless, I still feel largely in control of my craft. And, currently, it seems that I'm happier in flight rather than grounded indefinitely on terra firma.

Sticking to my life flight should put me in a better position to fight both for myself and others. And it's best not to wait for the oxygen masks to be deployed. By then, the situation will most likely be beyond repair.
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The care necessities: Dealing with old age

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

For most of us, although tragically not all, dealing with the death of our parents is as unavoidable as our own death.

How we care for our elderly is set to become an even greater issue in the years ahead. (Image from Pexels.)

Same body, different mind

While the actual passing of a mother and/or a father is, I can only imagine at this stage, tough to shoulder, what can be just as difficult is seeing those who reared us deteriorate in health before they breathe their last.

This deterioration, of course, is both physical and mental. On the former, it can be quite a shock to see elderly parents after a protracted period of time, noticing how frailer and slower they've become.

Yet, it is mental loss that is arguably more difficult to come to terms with. This is not to make little of physical decline. If assistance is needed for minor everyday tasks — getting in and out of bed, personal hygiene and suchlike — not only is this sad to see but it requires an amount of time-consuming, potentially costly care and logistics.

However, when the mental degeneration is more than just standard senility, it can be harder to cope with and manage. I mean this in terms of actual interaction with the sufferer. And I'm referring to dementia in its various forms.

'The hope is that we can be as active and "with it" as close to our death as possible.'

We may understand in theory that there's a disease afflicting the mind of our loved one but seeing it played out for real on a regular basis can be taxing and troubling. It can test our own mental strength, our patience.

By all accounts, it's like interacting with a completely different person, a stranger. Yes, it's the body of the one you knew, you loved, you quarrelled with, but the behaviours and utterances are alien. It can break the strongest of bonds.

So it's not surprising that many families prefer to send a loved one with dementia to a care home, even if this is against the wishes of the sufferer and there are sufficient siblings to "burden share". 

While the mental decline is severe, he/she may be in good physical shape. Thus, living with the condition could go on for years.

Describing such a person as a 'burden' might sound heartless but the reality is, in most instances, pretty much that.

Going down with dignity

Coming up to my 38th birthday, I feel that if this debilitating dementia were to be my lot — it is on the maternal side of my family — I'd like to be able to end my existence as soon as it started becoming problematic and my being offered no positive contribution to society (I am contributing positively right now, aren't I?). Of course, it's one thing saying this now, quite another if and when such a scenario arises.

On a broader level, caring for our elderly when such care is required is something that is going to increase in scale across the world in the coming decades.

The hope is that we can be as active and "with it" as close to our death as possible.

For me and my peers, we should already be working towards that aim. 

Yes, there are still many unknowns as to the best way to get there, but we have plenty of pointers to at least be on a more beneficial path.
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