Today I was working on phone calls, emails, and research. I've always been good at research, but these days I have to push myself to be even better. I cannot allow myself to miss anything. I have to search every corner and edifice of the internet to make sure that I find every option available to my family regarding my grandfather.
After the staff at St. Gertrude's told us that my grandfather needed 24-hour care due to his memory getting worse, my mother, brother and I have been with him almost all the time. That's not to say that he doesn't get alone time or can't leave the house. On the contrary, he's a very busy man. Despite not being able to drive anymore (which he resents us for), my grandfather gets out quite a bit, going to luncheons, playing cards, seeing friends. At least, it seems a lot to me. But to him, he's lost quite a bit of freedom.
Today was a tough day for us. Every day I come over and sit with him, making sure he has lunch, stays clean (I won't elaborate on that; you can guess), and gets where he needs to go. This is in addition to what I did before his accident: bills, light cleaning, and really whatever else he needed me to do. Thankfully, I have my husband and my cousin to help with yard work, which can really be time consuming. But it wasn't the full day of typical house maintenance that was difficult. No, today was a mental challenge.
At some point, and whether this was due to something I said or did I can't say, something clicked in my grandfather's head. He realized I had been there every day and that I wasn't just there to entertain myself. No, he figured out - and remembered for long enough to talk to me about it - that I was there watching him. Babysitting. This happened while we were outside on the porch chatting away.
Reminding me once again that I needed to get a job, I countered with expressing that he would be pretty bored without me around. From there, I stumbled into an argument that I had never hoped to find myself in. He bombarded me with questions on why I was there and why I felt I had to watch him all the time. Why I took him to work and why he was never alone and didn't have the freedom to go where he liked when he liked. Did I feel that he couldn't take care of himself?
That's exactly what I thought, and I told him so. As I said, this was an argument, and not a one-sided reprimand. However, while I was caught off guard, I'd like to think that I handled it pretty well. That is to say, I didn't break down crying after some of the things he said, and that was hard enough in itself.
My grandfather went on to say that he wasn't doing as bad as I thought. His memory was fine, he wasn't having any medical problems, and I should let him drive again. He also felt as though I was "checking up" on him at work. This surprised me particularly, because this is only his second week back, and I don't usually stick around while he's working. I stayed for an hour last night because he told me he'd buy me dinner for all my work around the house (and I wasn't going to pass up a free meal).
I explained to him that yes, he was having problems. His memory isn't as good as it used to be, and he needed help to get things done around the house. He also has been having some incontinence problems, and forgetting the clean-up that comes with it. I couldn't explain all that very well though... Something about telling your grandfather that he needs to change his underwear more is a bit difficult. Once again, though I know he doesn't remember the first time, I tried to explain to him what the doctors have been telling me: that he needs 24-hour care and that I can't leave him by himself during the day. I tried to add some humor to it, suggesting that the state would find me incompetent and I'd be in trouble. "Let me talk to them," he said, his voice almost pleading. I couldn't look at him for a moment. I shook my head and told him that there was no shame in your family helping you when you needed it. And he does need it.
After our conversation had settled down a bit, aided in part by the dog running toward a squirrel, I went inside to compose myself. Tears had come to my eyes and damned if I was going to let him see that.
If I learned anything today, it was how hard (and yet, important) it is to be honest with him while at the same time trying to humor him. For the past few weeks, we've just let him think that we were hanging around for our benefit. Because we like to. And that isn't a lie, but I certainly spend a lot more time at my grandparents' house than I otherwise would. I've had to tell him several times that he can't drive and why, and that eventually, things were going to have to change.
It was a frustrating day, but I can't be angry with him. He has lost his freedom and privacy, and I can't fault him for being upset. And I can't be upset with him. He's like a small child or a baby - helpless. And he doesn't understand.
Taking him away from home and putting him somewhere else is going to kill him. And most likely me with him.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
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