By Eugene Kane of the Journal Sentinel
My sister said I would have to come for a week to look after Mom.
My sister was leaving the country to rendezvous with her 24-year-old daughter in Morocco, where she is serving with the Peace Corps.
My sister had talked frequently about wanting to make the trip to see where her only daughter has been living since last year. But my sister – a senior management official with a major organization in Washington, D.C. – could never commit to the adventure due to work.
With her daughter’s assignment scheduled to end this summer, my sister decided it was time to embark on the trip of a lifetime. After all, she deserved it.
My sister, a 56-year-old divorced mother of three adult children, has had a pretty hectic schedule while serving as the primary caregiver for my 89-year-old mother, who has been living in her home since last year. Mom suffers from a bad heart that required surgery to implant stents to help improve the blood flow to the vital organ.
It wasn’t that long ago that Mom lived alone at a nearby senior housing complex. As her heart began to falter, my sister made several late-night rushes to the emergency room after Mom complained about chest pain. Eventually, doctors said Mom needed an operation to survive. At her advanced age, they said, it still wasn’t guaranteed.
Even after the stents were inserted, Mom’s spirits began to flag. Assigned to an overcrowded hospice care facility because most assumed the end was near, she refused to eat and often didn’t want to leave her room.
Frankly, the bleak surroundings made Mom feel worse. It was a sad and depressing stage for a woman I had always seen so vibrant.
My sister soon informed me about the reality of the situation: We couldn’t afford to keep her in a better-looking location. And, truthfully, it was getting too expensive to keep her at the current one.
The solution was that my sister moved Mom into her own home. A nurse came during the day, but my sister put my mother to bed, fed her meals and watched over her.
It was the ultimate disruption of her professional and personal life, leaving my sister with little or no free time. But there were few other options other than consigning our mother to a place neither of us felt was acceptable.
Unfamiliar role
Suffice it to say, I was glad to be able to give my sister a well-deserved break when she called. But I was also a bit apprehensive.
As a bachelor with no children – I’ve never even owned a pet – it was pretty intimidating to think of spending an entire week with my mother, particularly in the long hours after the nurse left and she would be completely in my care.
It required doing things that made her adult son uncomfortable but at the same time served as a vivid reminder of all the things my mother did for me as a child. Suddenly, she was this familiar figure in my life who needed help walking, often became confused after the sun went down, and couldn’t cook or clean for herself anymore.
She required daily medication at various times and needed regular exercise. She needed help taking off her clothes at night and help putting them on during the day. After a lifetime of being an acclaimed cook, she needed her meals prepared for her.
I cooked her breakfast several times during the week and warmed up most of her dinners. I even tried making my own homemade spaghetti with ground turkey and pasta sauce – a personal specialty – but Mom thought I should have cooked the pasta more.
She did eat some of it, which was as good as a compliment.
While she needed help with her clothing, she was able to use the toilet on her own, which helped prevent embarrassment on the part of her adult son. She managed to move around with her walker pretty well and was able to have regular exercise with short walks outside.
At her advanced age, she was sharp enough to remember events from decades ago but also prone to be confused about sudden sounds or even ordinary objects in the house. On several occasions, I had to remind Mom where her chair was or how to get to her bedroom.
She called me by my late brother’s name once or twice.
At night, Mom slept well, but it was important for me to stay alert for her call if she needed to use the bathroom or just wanted a glass of water.
Whenever she complained of indigestion, I thought about all those emergency room trips in the past and prayed it was just an upset stomach.
Most of all, we enjoyed each other during small moments; we talked and joked and watched “Wheel of Fortune” at the scheduled hour each evening. Most nights, she reminded me when it was time for bed and I helped tuck her in, always remembering to give her a kiss good night.
My sister has confided to me that the expenses surrounding my mother’s care are getting more exorbitant due to rising health care costs. As brother and sister, we’re doing the best we can, but at some point Mom’s future care will be determined in large measure by how much we can continue to afford.
Until then, Mom stays at home with my sister, where she has improved remarkably from just a year ago.
The health care crisis in America is about many things but it’s also about baby boomers like me helping aging parents.
When my sister returned, I was relieved there were no emergencies or scary moments to report but mainly felt blessed for all of the quality time shared with the most important woman in my life. I had a great time looking after Mom, but also realized it didn’t come anywhere close to paying her back for all the times she looked after me.
No child can ever do that, but we should always be willing to try.
Contact Eugene Kane at ekane
Read his Raising Kane blog and follow him on Twitter @eugene_kane
