Friday, August 13, 2004
Today I knowingly and officially exercised my Durable Power of Attorney...
...on my mother's behalf for the first time. The circumstances were that she received a partial refund from the State of Arizona for overpayment of taxes in the late 80's as part of a successful class action suit against The State of Arizona. I could have chosen to wait until tomorrow to have her endorse the check at the Skilled Nursing Facility but I wasn't sure that her hand would "work" adequately enough yet to be able to recognizably signaturize. There were also two bills due today that I was considering putting off paying until next week when her monthly annuity flushes out our checking account. Neither would have accrued late charges but, you know, it's always best to pay bills on time when possible and normally we're able to. This month has been very tight, though. Anyway, suddenly I realized that if I present my Durable Power of Attorney papers to the bank I should be able to deposit the check with today's date then pay the bills due online, thus registering us as "paid" on the proper due date.
I had no idea what I was doing but the bank is used to this and the process was incredibly easy. Curiously, when I explained the circumstances to the woman who served me, that Mom was in a skilled nursing facility and would probably be out next week, but I had bills to pay before she exited the facility, she nodded knowingly.
"I took care of my mother. It's hard."
"Yeah," I agreed. "It is hard."
"Harder than raising kids. I know. I raised 5 of them, then, after they left home, I took care of my mother."
"Funny you should mention that," I said. "It looks that way to me, but I've never had kids and so many people I know who have kids are constantly telling me 'it's just like having kids'."
She laughed with an edge. "Yeah. Those people haven't ever taken care of their parents. It only looks like taking care of kids if you've never taken care of an elderly person."
"Thank you for confirming that for me," I told her.
"You're welcome," she said. "Caregivers don't usually get their due, because everyone's thinking 'it's just like taking care of kids'."
I was surprised she kept repeating this and decided to question her a little further while she was processing the Durable Power of Attorney exercise. "So, was this you and your husband who took care of her?"
She laughed again. "Naw," she said, "he left me before my first (meaning, I assumed, child) left home. Nope. Did it myself. Had no idea what I was letting myself in for. Don't get me wrong, I'd do it again, but I sure wish I'd known ahead of time and had some support. Five brothers and sisters and I ended up doing it myself. I got elected because I lived in the same area as my mother and didn't have kids at home anymore."
"I got elected because I was the only single kid. To be fair, I want to do it and my mom and I had a very close relationship before she asked me to come live with her for the rest of her life."
"I know." Her face betrayed a peculiar mixture of rue and satisfaction. "I'm glad I did. I just wish I didn't have to learn everything the hard way. I thought it was going to be just like taking care of kids, too."
"Fortunately, I don't have kids, so I had nothing to compare it to!"
She laughed, too. "That is fortunate! My best to your mother. Tell her to hang in there. My very best to you. It doesn't get any easier."
"Thanks," I said. "I have a feeling you're right. Nothing ever becomes routine. That's for sure."
A last explosion of laughter. "That's for sure," she agreed.
Damn. I needed to run into her today. Especially today.
I'm prepared for tomorrow's visit. I talked to Mom today. She sounded groggy again and said she was in bed so she must have been taking a nap. She doesn't get those very often because of the therapists. She insisted she hadn't had therapy today but I know they're on her ass, I authorized them, as well as instructed them, to be so. I think she's just not remembering it. I hope that's it, anyway. Could be she's constipating, again, too. When will those health care providers learn?!? I can be medically trusted at least as far as most doctors and more than some. Oh well. They'll have to clean it up.
Talked to another younger woman today about old people stroking out. Her grandmother has been mini-stroking ["I think they call it 'TIA', now," she corrected, both me and herself; somehow, though, "mini-stroking" works better for me] for 10 years. Very little debility, easily overcome, just like Mom, sometimes in a skilled nursing facility, sometimes with out-patient physical therapy. She's 90. She has a history of massive strokes in her family. Mom, luckily, does not, but probably has an unofficial history of mini-stroking. I'm recalling some small familiarities between what was called "Alzheimer's" in her mother and "moderate senile dementia, etiology unknown" in my mother. Grandma, early into her dementia, exhibited patterns that Mom does not: Hallucination, the urge to hide things; the urge to "go" to some unspecified destination to which she never believed she was going when she was actually taken someplace; intense and increasing worry about her memory and mental functioning losses; a definite awareness of a loss of the essence she identified as self. I'm thinking Mom gets "it" from her mother's side because I understand that "mental ability" is inherited from the mother's side and probably refers to brain structure and capability in the vague way scientists have of modifying their language under the assumption that the general public won't understand technical distinctions. As well, some of Mom's dementia (unfortunately, not related to her short term memory), a sort of fogginess regarding activities like reading and doing crossword puzzles, seems to be recovering in the wake of her enforced separation from cigarettes and her decreased need for tanked oxygen.
I think some of her incontinence, too, some of which I attributed to the demented (used technically) process of losing track of one's semi-voluntary signals, thus, losing control of the related functions, may be taken care of by me being much less aggressive about fluid intake. I'd probably been over-hydrating her since the blood transfusion. I can even remember sort of mini, subconscious movies running in the background of my brain as I "water tortured" her, once again, during the day, containing an instructional video of sorts about how making sure she was well hydrated would help "build her blood". Weird. Anyway, I know better, now. I wonder, it's true, how many more of these well-meaning mistakes I might make and if any might kill my mother, but, then I remember how many well-meaning mistakes medicine has made on her behalf, and I figure, hey, I've got a license and I earned it through hard labor. I haven't yet seriously and immediately endangered her life so, I figure, I've got a good record.
Anyway, I've got a little more business to do before I settle in for the evening.
Later.
I had no idea what I was doing but the bank is used to this and the process was incredibly easy. Curiously, when I explained the circumstances to the woman who served me, that Mom was in a skilled nursing facility and would probably be out next week, but I had bills to pay before she exited the facility, she nodded knowingly.
"I took care of my mother. It's hard."
"Yeah," I agreed. "It is hard."
"Harder than raising kids. I know. I raised 5 of them, then, after they left home, I took care of my mother."
"Funny you should mention that," I said. "It looks that way to me, but I've never had kids and so many people I know who have kids are constantly telling me 'it's just like having kids'."
She laughed with an edge. "Yeah. Those people haven't ever taken care of their parents. It only looks like taking care of kids if you've never taken care of an elderly person."
"Thank you for confirming that for me," I told her.
"You're welcome," she said. "Caregivers don't usually get their due, because everyone's thinking 'it's just like taking care of kids'."
I was surprised she kept repeating this and decided to question her a little further while she was processing the Durable Power of Attorney exercise. "So, was this you and your husband who took care of her?"
She laughed again. "Naw," she said, "he left me before my first (meaning, I assumed, child) left home. Nope. Did it myself. Had no idea what I was letting myself in for. Don't get me wrong, I'd do it again, but I sure wish I'd known ahead of time and had some support. Five brothers and sisters and I ended up doing it myself. I got elected because I lived in the same area as my mother and didn't have kids at home anymore."
"I got elected because I was the only single kid. To be fair, I want to do it and my mom and I had a very close relationship before she asked me to come live with her for the rest of her life."
"I know." Her face betrayed a peculiar mixture of rue and satisfaction. "I'm glad I did. I just wish I didn't have to learn everything the hard way. I thought it was going to be just like taking care of kids, too."
"Fortunately, I don't have kids, so I had nothing to compare it to!"
She laughed, too. "That is fortunate! My best to your mother. Tell her to hang in there. My very best to you. It doesn't get any easier."
"Thanks," I said. "I have a feeling you're right. Nothing ever becomes routine. That's for sure."
A last explosion of laughter. "That's for sure," she agreed.
Damn. I needed to run into her today. Especially today.
I'm prepared for tomorrow's visit. I talked to Mom today. She sounded groggy again and said she was in bed so she must have been taking a nap. She doesn't get those very often because of the therapists. She insisted she hadn't had therapy today but I know they're on her ass, I authorized them, as well as instructed them, to be so. I think she's just not remembering it. I hope that's it, anyway. Could be she's constipating, again, too. When will those health care providers learn?!? I can be medically trusted at least as far as most doctors and more than some. Oh well. They'll have to clean it up.
Talked to another younger woman today about old people stroking out. Her grandmother has been mini-stroking ["I think they call it 'TIA', now," she corrected, both me and herself; somehow, though, "mini-stroking" works better for me] for 10 years. Very little debility, easily overcome, just like Mom, sometimes in a skilled nursing facility, sometimes with out-patient physical therapy. She's 90. She has a history of massive strokes in her family. Mom, luckily, does not, but probably has an unofficial history of mini-stroking. I'm recalling some small familiarities between what was called "Alzheimer's" in her mother and "moderate senile dementia, etiology unknown" in my mother. Grandma, early into her dementia, exhibited patterns that Mom does not: Hallucination, the urge to hide things; the urge to "go" to some unspecified destination to which she never believed she was going when she was actually taken someplace; intense and increasing worry about her memory and mental functioning losses; a definite awareness of a loss of the essence she identified as self. I'm thinking Mom gets "it" from her mother's side because I understand that "mental ability" is inherited from the mother's side and probably refers to brain structure and capability in the vague way scientists have of modifying their language under the assumption that the general public won't understand technical distinctions. As well, some of Mom's dementia (unfortunately, not related to her short term memory), a sort of fogginess regarding activities like reading and doing crossword puzzles, seems to be recovering in the wake of her enforced separation from cigarettes and her decreased need for tanked oxygen.
I think some of her incontinence, too, some of which I attributed to the demented (used technically) process of losing track of one's semi-voluntary signals, thus, losing control of the related functions, may be taken care of by me being much less aggressive about fluid intake. I'd probably been over-hydrating her since the blood transfusion. I can even remember sort of mini, subconscious movies running in the background of my brain as I "water tortured" her, once again, during the day, containing an instructional video of sorts about how making sure she was well hydrated would help "build her blood". Weird. Anyway, I know better, now. I wonder, it's true, how many more of these well-meaning mistakes I might make and if any might kill my mother, but, then I remember how many well-meaning mistakes medicine has made on her behalf, and I figure, hey, I've got a license and I earned it through hard labor. I haven't yet seriously and immediately endangered her life so, I figure, I've got a good record.
Anyway, I've got a little more business to do before I settle in for the evening.
Later.
