"Elder Rage" How to Survive Caring for Aging Parents"

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"Liar Liar, Pants on Fire"

Sample book chapter from "Elder Rage"

Dad had not tried to drive since his foot "slipped" off the brake taking us on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride in the carport. Once I was gone, however, he started telling Ariana that he wanted to drive again. I told her to keep the car keys with her at all times and to just evade his pleas with distractions. One day she saw him going out the back door with his jacket on. "Where ya going, Jake?" she called after him.

"Ohhh, I'm gonna take a little ride. Please give me my keys and please move your car."

"Umm, it's a bit too dangerous for you to drive because you don't see that well, but I'd be happy to take you wherever you'd like to go."

"I'm the boss here and I say move your car right now!"

"Well, I'm sorry. I know it must be very hard on you, but I can't let you hurt yourself or some innocent person now can I?"

"Goddamn it! I was driving Model T's before your grandmother was born. You work for me and you do what I say, or else," he yelled, inches from her face, pounding his fists on the kitchen table again. (It's really amazing that it's not concave by now.)

Ariana didn't flinch—she'd learned my mother's technique already. Later that day— Ariana came back from the store, threw her purse in her room and got Mom up to go to the pottie. Dad sprinted out of bed, doing the ten-yard shuffle racing into her room. Ariana's little Gary yelled, "Mommy, Mommy, he took the keys out of your purse!"

"Jaaake," she said to her other child, "give me the car keys. It's too dangerous for you to drive. Where would you like to go? Come on, let's go out for a nice ride. I'd be happy to take you if you give me the keys."

His wrinkled nose started to grow. "I don't have 'em." She tried every which way to persuade him into giving her the keys on his own. No luck all day. Nope, he just didn't have them. I tried to talk some sense into him.

"Oh Dad, I'm sorry you can't drive anymore. I know how much you love driving, but we can't risk an accident. What if you hurt someone? Wouldn't you feel just awful? Please give Ariana the car keys."

"I don't know where they are—I swear to God."

"If you won't give her the keys on your own, you're forcing me to have to get them away from you forcefully. You don't want to go through that do you?" He went into a rambling rage calling me every nasty name he could think of and then hung up on me. Yeah, yeah, I know—I'm a bitch, I'm a sleazy whore again. Gee, no new terms of endearment?

 
 

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  •  Comments 1 to 7 of 7 
 
 

castoff

Give a Hug

Jul 4, 2010

LORD, help us go gently into that good night and not do this to our children.

 
 

LynnPO

Give a Hug

Jul 5, 2010

Amusing story but... why go to all the trouble to argue. Remove the distributor cap from the car so that it won't fire. Even if s/he got the keys, the car would not start. Then tell anyone and everyone that he'd call for help; advise them that he can't drive any longer - doctor's orders. All of this arguing is nuts.

 
 

castoff

Give a Hug

Jul 12, 2010

I hate deception!!!!
What makes old folks think they have to TRICK their caregivers into doing what they want???? The fact that they have to lie at all should make them realize what they are asking for is wrong and not in their best interest!!!
If getting old is all about being selfish, self absorbed and deceptive; I hope I die before it happens!!!!!

 
 

FyreFly

Give a Hug

Sep 1, 2010

Thank you for sharing this story! I truly enjoyed your wit, ingenuity, and well-thought out writing style. I was right there with you, and it was an incredible experience. Great job!

I hope you and your sister are doing well - seems like you have a really good system. {{{hugs to you!}}}
~FyreFly

 
 

SisterCarrie

Give a Hug

Oct 30, 2010

Your story is so real, and so resonant for me. Funny-- my husband believed in telling Dad the truth: no guys/pigs/demons in the room; he couldn't drive because he might kill someone, etc. I just agreed with him and told him the bad guys/pigs/demons were gone now, changed the subject, and tucked him back in bed. But Who knows? I mean, some things were definitely hallucinations, no question. But he claimed to have been seeing a ghost in his own home many years before the dementia came on. I do believe in spirits, and he might have been right some of the time. I hate lying to him, but sometimes there is no other way to keep the peace. Arguing seems worse than lying. A neurologist specializing in dementia once told me to think of it as "therapeutic lying." Ultimately, I took the route of peace, but my brother didn't really have a choice. He had to bear the "car keys" battle on his own, long before Dad came to live with me. I think some of our battles were eliminated by the fact that Dad was no longer in his own home, sad as that was for him. Three dozen cheers for you and Arianna for all you have done to let your parents stay in their home. I didn't have that option, but i think my situation was easier than yours in many ways. Thanks for writing about it.

 
 

ReallyTired

Give a Hug

Oct 30, 2010

You have found a great way to deal with this situation. I wish I could get there with my mom.

 
 

scardascia

Give a Hug

Dec 4, 2010

When "old people" have dementia - it's not lying - it's confusion and fear - and telling them the truth does absolutely no good. It doesn't matter what you say - it's forgotten in a matter of minutes. We learned with my mother-in-law to always give her the answer she wanted. She stayed calm and happy and we had peace. And if something came up that was unavoidable our best option was to stall.
My mother-in-law's younger sister was very ill with leukemia. When her sister passed away we told her and she took the news very hard. A few weeks later she asked how her sister was doing. We told her again that she had died and again my mother-in-law wept as if she was hearing this for the first time. After that, every time she asked about her sister, we told her that she was doing much better and my mother-in-law was always happy and relieved. On a funnier note --
One Memorial Day our family was together for a barbeque, and we noticed my mother-in-law teary at the table. When we asked her what was wrong she said no one had remembered today was her birthday. My husband tried to explain that her birthday wasn't for 2 months. As she became more agitated and upset, my sister-in-law quickly went to her room and threw together a small gift bag of body wash and moisturizer, hearing aid batteries, denture cream and a new lipstick she had and carried it out singing happy birthday. My mother-in-law lit up like a 4 year old. From then on, no matter the date or holiday, we always made sure we had her "birthday gift" and a small cake on hand.
We all have our lives back now. My mother-in-law passed away this past September at the age of 92. I miss her and still haven't figured out what to do with my free time.

 
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