Tag Archives: mental-health

Couch Potato Files Vol. 15

Grief is a real motherfucker. As I texted one of my best friends the other day, some therapist is going to have a really great fucking time “unpacking” all my grief, whenever I get around to seeing someone. And, if they use the word “unpacking” when talking to me about what all I’ve gone through with my ma, I think I’ll deck them. But yes, I do still have my sense of humor – laughter is the best medicine after all and who cares if that’s cliché to say. Cliché can be fun.

Tomorrow, May 16, will be five months since I had an intervention with my ma at her home in Cherry Valley and started on this health and medical journey with her, with multiple hospital visits, moving her to Arizona, getting her lots of medical help includind a large list of doctors and specialists, rehab with physical and occupational therapists, an awesome new apartment at an assisted living community, the works…only to have her recently on May 1 decide to throw in the towel and be done. And by done I mean she decided to stop taking meds and receiving on-going treatment and just call it quits. Enter hospice and end of life arrangements. 

A huge part of me is mad as hell since I never wanted her to give up or thought she would but I’m also equal parts sad as hell that I have no idea how she really feels, how depressed she really is to think there’s no way out but to be done and that she’s likely relieved to have made the ultimate decision to stop trying and go back to not being a burden to me and our family.

Ironically her decision is a huge burden and everything we’ve gone through together has been a burden BUT as shitty as it’s been, I’ve been dealing with it all as best I can and I was really happy to see her progress and that she started getting healthier. Having her give up felt like a pretty big fuck you to the last five months but there’s no way but forward now. 

Aside from all the negative feelings that came rushing to me with her decision, there’s also a lot of positive feelings from it too. I’m relieved to not have to be the bad guy any more, barking reminders at her about all the things she needs to keep doing to get better and stronger. It was like having a three year old again, reminding her to eat more protein, brush her teeth, keep up with her exercises, ask for help to get to the bathroom before she had an accident and so much more. Now I can hangout with her and do my best to be there for her and enjoy her company in her final days. We can drink lots of Dr. Pepper, eat junk food and garbage, watch TV and just be together. 

It wasn’t exactly the way I pictured finally having my mom living in Arizona but it’s so much better than her not being here. There’s relief in knowing she’s ten minutes from my house. There’s relief in knowing she’s getting really great and over-priced care. There’s relief in knowing that I did everything I could to help her.  My only regret is that I didn’t sign her up to see a therapist that may have been able to help and give her a more positive outlook on her health…along with some happy pills that could have been the difference in her giving a shit again…or just more of the same and adding to the long list of meds she didn’t want to take. All the nurses and some of the doctors were good about helping keep her spirits up, along with me being a drill sergeant and hammering home that she’s doing great and improving. Because she truly was, even if she didn’t feel like it. There were physical signs of improvement – I just couldn’t see or help her mentally.

And, just when I think I can’t cry any more, more tears show up – that grief, like I said, is a real bitch. I was watching a movie last weekend and one of the characters who had lost her husband said there was no timeline on grief, that she just hadn’t been ready to take her wedding band off yet or allow herself to be open to finding someone new. That pretty much sums up how I’ve felt about my ma. Grief is here to stay for the foreseeable future and I’m mostly equal parts mad and sad with a lot of anxiety and stress sprinkled throughout. I’m trying my best to not dwell on the current situation and focus on remembering all the good. Remembering how great my ma was and that she was larger than life and not the shell of herself laying in a hospital bed.  So here’s to my ma and being the best there ever was to raise me into the take-no-shit-nearly-50-year-old that I am. I hope I’ve been able to return the favor by being the best caregiver and daughter to her. 

P.S. Sooner than later I swear I’ll start writing again about TV shows and movies and end all this depressing shit. BUT, thanks, all three of you, for continuing to read my rambles, no matter the content. 

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Couch Potato Files Vol. 14

Happy First Day of Spring. Crazy that we’ve already made it to late March and that our hotter temps are already trying to show up here in Arizona. Please stay away, triple digits, for as long as possible!

This past Sunday, March 16, was two months since I started on this wellness path with my ma. In all honesty, it feels more like six months. The old saying time flies when you’re having fun doesn’t apply in this case. It’s more like time stands still when you’re dealing with anything in the medical industry and you have no patience left or never had it in the first place. 

It reminds me of when my pop had cancer and the eternity it took for my mom and him to get help at the VA hospital, especially when he was literally dying and the clock was ticking away. Have I mentioned what a shitty healthcare system we have? 

The moral of the current trajectory I’m on with my ma is be careful what you wish for. I wished for my ma to get better and to take better care of herself, only to discover the list of what needed to be taken care of was a mile long. It all really adds up when you haven’t seen a doctor in three decades. So we try to laugh about it, that she’s making up for lost time, while every doctor, nurse, therapist and specialist we see has their head spin when they see her list of ailments. It’s pretty remarkable she’s survived, as morbid as that sounds and is. The story you see around the web about the 100+ year old woman who drinks a Dr. Pepper a day and is still kicking reminds me of my ma. I bought her a shirt that says “Save Water. Drink Dr. Pepper.” for a reason. I took her a mini can every day to the hospital and I knew the days she was really struggling were the days she wouldn’t drink much of it. Same goes for at home now. 

In all reality, this dumpster fire of an adventure has been a real learning experience, not just about how cocky I can get with acting like I’m a nurse or doctor, since I’ve now read and experienced enough to maybe give nursing school a go or even med school – not really, just like to act like it. But, it’s more a learning experience about myself, my family, friends, and the medical industry. 

I’ve found that many can be empathetic or sympathetic and many are just assholes. I’ve learned that some people can’t dig in and help or even know where to start and that’s ok – maybe some just literally can’t and it’s not in their make-up as a human. Although it’s frustrating, I keep reminding myself that on a daily basis.

I also have learned that I don’t post on social media or write here on my blog to seek sympathy from others – it’s a coping mechanism since I love to write and this whole experience has given me A LOT of material. When I do finally take the time to book my own therapist appointment, I plan to provide whoever the lucky contestant is with the link to this blog. It’s the cliffnotes’ version of what they’re in for BUT they might also find some interesting TV and movie recommendations as a nice bonus.

This whole experience is still a giant PSA to take better care of myself and my family. There’s just no excuse and if depression takes over, seek help. I just really, REALLY wish my ma would have let me help sooner but there’s no take-backsies, especially when it comes to this shitshow of a situation – I’m just still so grateful I got to her before it was too late. And let’s be honest, it may be too late anyway but I’m glad she’s trying. Even as small as the improvements are every day, they’re still improvements. 

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