Okay, I'm breaking out here a bit because what I've found is that the old adage "misery loves company" is true, because anytime I get a chance to gripe about things I get worked up, so....
I want to start this thread looking for the funny stories in the midst of all this stress and chaos. As caretakers when we step out of a situation, can you imagine how sill we look bribing an 80 yr old person with a piece of candy to "come on, I'll take you out" to getting ready for a wrestling match just to bathe? I mean my parents would fight to the death over that right not to shower, and we've all seen that message board.
So let me start with a couple.... my grandfather and grandmother from my mom's side, both had health issues, but grandma had beginning dementia and was seeing imaginary things. One of the funniest stories I remember is that my grandma thought my grandpa was tunneling floosies (these tramps) through a wall in the basement and just having all these sex parties etc.
My mom was frazzled in what to do. She started to tell my grandma that we had friends from the church who were FBI and, "Ma, its okay, we have cameras in the tv to watch what goes on. The FBI are arresting these women as soon as they come through the tunnel." My grandmother being relentless kept saying, "I can't believe your father... WHAT would he want with all those women..." (as a young kid, seeing my mother now.... oh I know what he was thinking.... roll a few fatties, pour a few drinks and unwind under the nose of his favorite control freak and the more the merrier!
Another story...Grandma at one point saw a horse in her house and started yelling for her husband to get it out. My mother was so stressed by this time, and I'm a teenager and I said, "Grandma, I'll take it out for a ride. I love horses, and it probably just came in for some lunch. Do you want me to bring her back for a nap?" She'd say no and I'd take this "horse" outside. My mom thought I was crazy but she was stressed to the hilt. Grandma couldn't help it. She kept screaming what a mess it left in her house and look at the hoof prints in her house. I just told grandma that it was okay, I think its something I can get out. I don't know if she bought that one or not.
Now turning that humor on to my parents.... I'll think of a story soon I'm sure... I just need to distance myself.... and I'm thinking West Coast this time (permanent vacation? :)
Hope to hear your stories!
I try to find the humor - remembering that many of the events are funny if you can only take a step or two back from the reality. I found a lot of stories funny when my husband's grandparents were aging - my mother-in-law, their caretaker, does not remember most of them. She was too busy to laugh! Now we tell her and even though she was there, says she was sorry she missed it.
Unfortunately, (or fortunately) my Dad passed on quite a few years ago, or I might have now asked him much about the president! Glad you enjoyed the stories. Last night at our support group, a new fella (he's not quite getting what his Mom is going thru yet with dementia) told the story of when he picked up his Mom to take her to lunch. Took them a while to find her purse....they were all set....he turned around to get her coat in the closet.....then back around to put it on her, and bingo.....the purse was gone again! So funny, and I know we've all gone thru similar....
Still trying to also figure out why they always want to go home, when they are already living in the house they've lived in most of their life.....must be their childhood home they're thinking of I guess.....any ideas?
I've watched my Dad walk through closed doors into ladies' rooms, spin circles in the hallway, not knowing which direction to go, people in wheelchairs come right in to Dad's room all times of the day and night, and see people just lie down in someone else's bed there. It is laughable at times! I think staff used the tool of "redirection" more than any other. My Dad has been more talkative lately, but with Advanced Stage Alzheimer's Disease, the things he says rarely make sense. His wife is married to his brother, and so's his daughter. (Not really, but that's what he says.) We just smile, nod and go on. He can no longer say my name, so I tell him, "I'm your favorite firstborn!" It brings a smile, but I assure him, "Don't worry, Dad, I still remember my name." I love my Dad, and have come to accept him where he is. And through the process, have come to accept myself, and also tell him, "I'm your fabulous firstborn!" I'm just happy to spend time with Dad no matter what his condition is!
Bill, another resident, was quite out of it and seemed preoccupied. I didn’t know why he wasn’t in the dining room with the rest of the residents. The dull routine of their days was punctuated by their three meals. Bill was standing in the middle of the hall with his pajamas and his adult diaper around his ankles, drooling and disoriented. His family jewels were sparkling in the light for all to see. It was rather a shock. Two PSW staff spotted him. They gently asked him what was wrong and took care of him. They thought he’d tried to change his diaper on his own in his room and was unsuccessful. They were so loving and kind. Nothing shocked me anymore, even a strange, naked man with the evidence of his gender for all to see. Off I went for home for some wine and some dinner and my “normal” husband.
Nauseated... you know you're going to have to think of a comeback for that statement don't you? LOL
How to Exercise if you're over 40:
1). Start by finding a comfortable surface to stand on. Make sure you have enough room to raise your arms out beside you. Take a 5 pound potato sack with each hand, and lift your arms straight out beside you, holding them as long as you can. Try to reach a minute, then relax. You should be able to hold this position a little longer each day.
2). Move up to 10 pound potato sacks after about two weeks.
3). Within the month, you should try to graduate to 25 pound potato sacks. Eventually, you should try to push yourself to lift 50 pound, then 100 pound potato sacks in both hands, holding your arms straight out for more than a minute at a time. (This is my level.)
4). When you have reached this extraordinary level, try adding a potato to each sack!
lol and keep on laughing...it works the tummy muscles!
One day, Before we moved in to help, we were trying to get them out the door early for a doctor's appointment and Grandma had no underwear. Where were they all? In the hamper.
She would empty the hamper as she did everyday...but where?
So I found some undies and washed them in the sink. They had no drier, so I turned on the oven and spread them out on the rack...and handed Grandma underwear with grill lines toasted into them. I really expected her to put up a fuss, but she just looked at me funny and put them on...her head.
They were such loving and wonderful people. I remember them always fondly and with good humor.
I've tried repeating limericks and silly sayings back to my Dad that his Dad taught him, and he taught us as a child, such as:
Dad: Do you think the rain will hurt the rhubarb?
Us: Not if it's in cans.
Dad: What if it rains can openers?
Us: Open a hardware.
Dad: What if they don't sell?
Us: But that's not the problem.
Dad: What is the problem?
Us: Do you think the rhubarb?
Dad: Not it it's in cans... (You get the idea...)
Or: The lady in the river had a sliver in her liver. Did she shiver? I'll say she did!
These silly verses don't seem to produce the same delight for him or us as they once did O so long ago. Heard enough, they rate right up there with Knock Knock jokes or "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly... Groan. But my eight year old is learning them, and will probably pass them on to yet another generation.
Mom and Dad used to go out to eat and play Euchre with another couple once a month, and every New Years. Mom started reporting that Dad's started making up new rules, and demanding other "follow suit" (ha ha). They were alarmed, at first, but went along. As Dad's Alzheimer's advanced, we began looking for additional ways to "connect" with him. Sure enough, he demanded we play according to his "new" plan. It made for interesting games at times, with knowing glances back and forth amongst ourselves. We had to fight hard to hold back our amazement and laughter at some of his "rules." At first, we tried correcting him, telling him, "You can't play a club on a heart!" But realizing he didn't remember how to play, and couldn't play as before, we just went along the best we could. It was humorous at times. We decided it didn't matter how we played the game. (Just being together scores higher!)
Today, he is bedridden, and watches our moves and faces as we play. He can no understand jokes, and can no longer participate in simple puzzles or checkers, but intently watches everything we do. When close enough, he still reaches out to tickle his grandson. It's not as fun without him playing, but better than sitting there continually asking, "So, how are you today?" (or trying to make up conversation). I think he enjoys just having us around
One more...
I got the wrong diapers. I get the pull-up kind. Well, after a couple of days of grandma using the wrong kind she calls me in the bathroom and says "Missy, I can't figure out how to use these diapers." I told Grandma that I was sorry, and I wasn't paying attention when I got them.
My father replied, "If you had Parkinson's, you could see it." We all got a good belly laugh out of that one.
Mom took them and then complained that I ordered her too much food!
I remember visiting my dad after a cal for help form the retirement home. They presented him with his Rx., pants, eye glasses, shirt, breakfast and would have none of it.
"It's not mine. Nothing to do with me!" he said. We have laughed about that for months. At that point I wondered why I was so worried about having him take his Rx or eat. What is the difference? Why fight it?
He was dying of a brain tumour. That is the part of Living and Dying With Dignity, that I wrote about.
Good thread.
Here's one of my dad... the day we decided he can't go out shopping in public anymore.
Dad has always been and will be the provider for his family. He is from the old Greek school, and providing for his wife and daughter is mandatory. He also loves to help people. Manners great... in his decline... no so great.
One day my husband and I took him to the grocery store. He was putsying (remember Mr. Wiggins in Carol Burnett?) through the store and turning around with everything like a child "Do we need this?" Yes or no would be our reply. Then he hit the dairy aisle. He was standing in front of the butter display admiring all the different butter. Totally amazed at how many kinds he could have. We are viewing this from a short distance mind you. This female customer (in a hurry) is trying to get around my father to get butter. My dad says, "Oh I'll get it for you which do you want?" and proceeds to step in her way not once, but many times in the course of this purchase. She replies, "No I have it." and points to right there. She tries to side step him to reach for the butter herself and my dad moves in her way again.
Now... moving slower than a snail I wonder how he managed to get in her way about 30 times? She started getting ticked, and I said, "Dad, its okay she can get her own butter." What seems like an eternity was probably only minutes... and he got a little upset with me for daring to stand in the way of his chivalry. It was like a dance watching the whole thing really. She would move, he'd shift with her. She would reach, he would block. She looked back at my husband and I with a WTF look and we just shrugged our shoulders looking about as dumb-founded as could be and replied, "Its just easier if you let him."
FINALLY... the dance was over. She got her butter, dad had helped a woman and my husband and I were embarrassed to the hilt. Its a story we can laugh at now every time we walk by butter, but it was that day we vowed the shopping was over. No more dancing at grocery stores!
thanks