Sunday, July 24, 2005

The Trials and Tribulations of Caregiving

Monday, 25 July 2005

Yesterday, my stepmom Bernice took my stepsister Lindsey for a ten day trip to Las Vegas for her annual basketball tournament. So, I came by yesterday morning, with my carry-on bag and groceries in hand, to stay at my dad's place for the week. We spent most of the day inside, and at one point, I suggested we go "holoholo" (which means go for a ride/little excursion), but Dad was afraid he'd have to use the bathroom. So, I tried to take him to the bathroom, but was having difficulty lifting him out of his wheelchair. He said, "That's okay. I don't have to go anymore." But, I knew he did; he just didn't trust me to lift him. (Last week, he took my stepmom down when she was in the process of lifting him in the bathroom.) So, I tried to call my Uncle Gary to help, but he wasn't home. We waited the rest of the afternoon just sitting watching the tube; then after a couple of hours, Uncle Gary came by. Although I did most of the lifting, Uncle Gary was there for support, which made my dad feel better. Since an extra hand was there, we decided to bathe my dad as well. I'm glad my uncle was there, as it was difficult to lift my dad from the commode in the shower stall to the walker. I'm trying to be careful about how I am lifting, reminding myself to use my legs and not my back, so that I do not hurt myself. It will be a learning experience this week.

The rest of the evening was fine as I prepared dinner for him, massaged his swollen feet while we watched TV, and then got him into the hospital bed. It was a restless slumber, as he got up three times in need of using the bathroom. This meant, I got up at 11:30 pm, 2:30 am, and 6 am, to help sit him up, move his legs, and empty the urinal before putting him back and tucking him into bed. I now understand what my stepmom has to go through each evening, and I don't even have to work in the morning!

The funny thing my dad laughed about was my strange sleeping habits. As I tucked the blanket around my feet, and then tucked my head under as well, he asked, "Do you always sleep like that?" I said, "What? Like a mummy? Yup. I need to sleep all wrapped up in complete darkness." After convincing him that I can breathe fine in my "cocoon", he commented, "Gee, your boyfriends must think that's not so romantic. They must think, 'How strange?'" We both got a good laugh about that.

As I turned out the lights, making sure the fan was blowing in the right direction, and fixing the blanket so that my dad's shoulder didn't get cold each time I situated him back into bed, I never thought how strange it was to sleep in my coffin-like style. Yet, it was more unfamiliar that I was lying next to my dad, tucking him into bed, like he used to tuck me into bed as a child. And, being the light sleeper that I am, I knew that as soon as I heard the electric motor of the hospital bed moving next to me, it would be a sign that Dad needed something, and it was time to get up and help him, no matter what time it was. I'm sure that, over time, even the most unfamiliar things will soon become more routine and familiar.

1 comment:

Teresa said...

Such love in this post! You are strong in more ways than you realize, Tanya.