A Sick Parent

This isn't a topic to talk about us as parents when we are sick, so don't think I am repeating a topic that was posted on here a few days ago. I am talking about when our parents are sick. When we as adults have to support, help and guide our parents when they are sick and perhaps even have to face the fact that they are getting older and face the fact that we just aren't kids anymore.

In 2006, a week after my wedding and I got back from my Disney World honeymoon, my Mom fell ill. I could tell she was trying to do the "Mom thing" with looking strong and being present for me while I opened all my wedding gifts in front of my family. She was pale, weak and could barely lift her head from the couch. A few days later, she was in the ICU getting her chest electrically shocked to put her heart back in rhythm. Two weeks before that my Mom was busily and happily getting me prepared on my wedding day. She and I did that marathon run of getting everything set and prepared for my big walk down the aisle, she had to let me go to start a new life. She did it with grace, elegance and love. Looking back in the ICU she was so sick, so helpless, and needed her family more so then ever but in a way she has never needed us before. I was in that cross roads of wanting to be that child that is just terrified and that adult that still is terrified but hiding it and keeping a brave face.

After countless tests including CAT scans, MRI, spinal taps, etc., it was found that she had Lyme's Disease. She never had that trademark bulls eye on her skin and they never found it through a blood test. It was only discovered after she had a spinal tap. After recovering for another week in the hospital, she was then released with a pic line of 30 day antibiotics attached to her. At least she was out, but she wasn't the same.

Lyme's Disease can do a number of things to a persons body. It has so many symptoms that vary from person to person from, it is a hard thing to diagnose. For my Mom, it attacked her joints and heart. She was so weak and tired all the time. She barely could stay awake most of the time during family visits where beforehand she would want to hear every word, every story and give her two cents. Her cardiologists decided that a good course of treatment would get an oblation surgery on her heart. Perhaps that would correct the arrhythmia that she was suffering from and that in turn could not make her as tired or weak. She went into the hospital with high hopes that the surgery would be a fix all. The oblation procedure was successful in that everything was by the book. However, when going up through the vein in her leg, it caused that area to need a surgery to correct that. My Mom was not happy. At this time she was starting to fear hospitals.

Happily within a few months of my Mom's sickness, she was graced with wonderful news by my sister first and then by me. We were both pregnant. Her girls were going to have babies of their own. For my Mom this was the best news yet as she has wanted to be a Grandmother for years. My Mom loves babies and children. Although both pregnancies were planned, it was even more of blessing in aways since it gave my Mom something to look forward to since more surgeries were scheduled in the near future. She wanted to be healthy for those babies.

My Mom underwent another oblation surgery due to the first one not correcting the arrhythmia problem and the second oblation surgery failed as well to correct the problem. After many more tests and doctors putting their heads together, she was going to get an open heart procedure called the maize procedure. By this time my sister and I were both very pregnant. My Mom did not want any more procedures and seemingly was giving up. Through family persistence and telling her that these unborn babies need their Grandmother, she decided that she would have the surgery AFTER the babies were born. The surgery was set for early September.

Things really changed two days before my induction date on July 5th and while I was on bed rest. I got a call from my Mom in the early hours of the morning. She was crying uncontrollably and told me to come to her house. Thankfully I lived only a mile away and was in the car in minutes. I had no idea what was going on. She just wanted me there and frankly I was freaked out. As I drove up onto the drive way, she was outside waiting for me. I get out of the car and she wraps her arms around me and thanks me for coming. I inquire into why I got the call and what is going on. I was wondering is my Dad okay? Is my sister okay? What the heck is going on?!? She just explained to me she can't stop. After calming her down a bit, it was clear that she was having a panic attack set off by absolutely nothing. There was no big event happening in days or anything that changed in her life other then this sickness that she's had for over a year. My Dad was at work, my sister had a newborn by then and I honestly did not know what to do. I under went seven more "episodes" with her, which started off by her rocking like a crazy person and then breaking into tears when I finally got the chance to call my Dad. I reach my Dad at work and tell him, "You need to make a doctors appointment today. She has a problem." I honestly thought my Mom was going to the nut house, but she needed something more then just consoling. I would do that for her until the end of time, but it was only a temporary fix until the next episode and a person can't go on like that. My Dad insisted that she was fine until I described exactly what was going on for hours and what I was going through. He then made a prompt call to the doctors office. Later that day, she was given meds for panic attacks. I call them her "chill pills". It was just bizarre that my mother that I knew who was strong, didn't cry in front her kids unless there was a death, and would never try to "bother" her kids with anything. Instead, she was this helpless, inconsolable person that I could hardly recognize.

Two months later my Mom underwent open heart surgery that landed her in the hospital for weeks to recover. Thankfully the hospital she went to had a specialized heart wing/building so that it was separate from the rest of the hospital that had people with other illnesses. This meant that I could bring my newborn to visit her every day. The first time I arrived I met the heart doctor outside of her room. I was a little unsure if he would be okay with me bringing a baby in the room with her. Perhaps he would think that would be a strain to have a baby in the room, but instead told me having my son in there was the best possible thing as my Mom was suffering with depression. It gave her something to smile at and look forward to each day. He was right. She looked forward to seeing my sweet little boy every day and therefore I would be in that room from 9:00 to 3:30 during the work week until my Dad got there and then a few hours each day during the weekend.

After she was released from the hospital, she was not strong enough to be by herself all day while my Dad was at work. Because of the numerous operations and sick issues my Mom went through during that year my Dad had virtually no leave to take to be with her. I was still on maternity leave and without hesitation volunteered to be with her. It made sense and I was close by. Each morning I would wake up with my husband around 7:30 and go to my Mom's house for the day with my son. My Dad was no cook (he once thought he could cook chicken that from the freezer and put it directly to a frying pan without defrosting it first), so I often would make dinner each night for my parents and my husband who met me at the house. It was a difficult thing to juggle. I was a new Mom with hardly any baby experience, but some how took care of my son, myself and my Mom during that month I had left of maternity leave. Thankfully she was strong enough by the time I had to return to work.

My Mom is still recovering. Its been almost three years since her diagnosis. She is much stronger and a lot better, but there has been a clear and present shift in our relationship. I now mother her. I make sure she is going to the doctors when she is not feeling well or nag my Dad to nag her. I check in on her like a Mom would do to her kids as if she was some kid in college. I honestly ask if she is eating right, is she getting enough exercise, and if she is feeling (emotionally) okay. Its tough when a parent gets sick. I honestly wished I could be the child for a bit longer and she could be the Mom. Don't get me wrong, she will always be my Mom. I just miss her mothering me the way she used to. I just miss being the kid.


For more information on Lyme's Disease:

http://www.natcaplyme.org/index.php

Gratitude

I have to ask any readers out there, when the last time you showed your gratitude towards someone or anyone? Was it today, yesterday, last week or can you remember? Did you think about how appreciative you were to someones action or deed without taking the time to show it towards them? Did you yourself do something kind or do a favor for someone without getting any gratitude back?

Gratitude by definition is "The state of being grateful; warm and friendly feeling toward a benefactor; kindness awakened by a favor received; thankfulness." No I am not trying to give a vocabulary lesson. At least I hope that most adults reading this would know the definition of the word gratitude. I just wanted to throw that out there as a reminder.

For me, I try and show my gratitude each time someone does something kind and thoughtful to me. I am human and do sometimes forget in my busy world of a full time working Mom to take that time, especially to those that are close to me. My husband for example, has done wonders lately for me without complaint or even without me asking to do some extras around the house while I recuperate. I have said thank you or told him from time to time that what he does means a lot, but in the inside I am honestly bursting with gratitude. Does he realize that? I am not sure. Then it got me thinking (I contemplate a lot) on how do you teach a child gratitude?

As a Mom there are many things you struggle with during each stage of your child's life. Every Mom wants their child to be a well rounded, polite individual that will work hard, love his fellow person and be happy with life. There are just life lessons such as gratitude that I don't believe can be taught. I think its experienced and then realized. Sure you can tell your child to say "please" and "thank you" or when someone does something nice to your child you can tell that little person "how nice of so and so to do that for you." So as any Mom does in this day in age to find and answer to a question, I googled it. I was surprised (because Google does not work for me all the time) about the information I should of thought about on my own and some information that was a good idea.

One site suggested visiting a homeless shelter or something similar because children learn from pity. To me, that was not what I had in mind. Sure being homeless or having another problem in life is sad, but pity? You should be humbled by the fact that you are lucky to have a roof over your head, food in your belly and have a family to go home to. However, homeless people shouldn't looked as being pitied. I wouldn't want to be pitied if I was homeless. I would want a person to stretch out their hand and help pick me up because that little voice in them called them to do so. I don't think volunteers or workers at organizations to help people do things out of pity. I think its something inside them that says "go help these people".

So I continued my search and found some other great ideas to help teach a child what gratitude is in a more positive light. Here is a few key things that I found:

• Ask your child what he/she is grateful for each day. What blessings they received and perhaps what good deeds they did for someone else. Perhaps as a family share each of your thanks around the family dinner table each night.
  
• Find a good thing to say about a bad situation. If your child accidentally spills milk on the floor usually they are quite embarrassed and sorry for it. At least I always was. You can take that time and say, "Its okay, accidents happen. It gives us an excuse to help clean the floor together."
  
• When a child receives a special gift from someone, have them send a thank you card. If they are too young perhaps they can color a picture or sign their name on a parent written card.

There are several other different websites that talk about crafts, etc., but basically talking about the same three things. I will also recommend, what you teach your child, you should also model in your own life. What are you grateful or thankful for today? Was this action done by a certain individual? Did you show your gratitude?

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled
by a spark from another person.
Each of us has cause to think with deep
gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us."
~Albert Schweitzer

New Life Lessons

Last week a friend of mine gave birth to another beautiful, healthy girl. This is number two for her. Her oldest child and my child are but a month apart in age. My friend (lets call her Marie) and I met each other during a girl outing right before we both became pregnant and had a wonderful bond ever since. I am blessed and feel lucky to have her and her wonderful family in my life. I just can't get over the fact that my friend has another child. It isn't that I am not happy for her. Actually I am ecstatic beyond words for her. I just am surprised with my surge of emotions about Marie's new baby.

I drove to the Birthing Inn just a day after the birth of Marie's baby to congratulate the family and see Marie's new miracle. During the twenty minute commute to The Inn, I had flashbacks of the countless drives I made to the same hospital for testing or visiting my friends newborn babies while I was still pregnant. It was so weird going there not pregnant as I remember hobbling (I was big in the third trimester) to the front door and now I could actually walk normal without fearing I would fall over or trip. As I made my way into the locked doors of the post partum wing, I had yet another flashback. I passed my old post partum room, which was empty and took a moment to remember the early days of when I first became a Mom. I remember how exciting it was, how nervous I was, and how wonderfully my husband took care of both our baby and I the first week with basically no help.

Then, after entering room #182, I met the new bundle of joy, and I did everything I could to not cry. It wasn't that I was sad because in my heart I too would like to have another baby soon and probably can not with finances (some who know me may think thats why but it isn't), but the joy in my heart was just overwhelming. Most people (I don't say all because there is ignorance in the world) before they even have children they know how precious babies/children are, but when you become a parent your view on life just changes. I saw this little girl, this beautiful sweet miracle God bestowed on my beautiful friend and just saw the beauty of life. Life really is a miracle. I could hardly remember my son being that small. Now is he this firey little toddler that talks, walks and play independently. Its just amazing how in a short span of time a baby can grow in a Mom's belly, be born and then in another short span of time grow up so fast. After a bit, it was my time to hold her. I sniffed as I tried to hold back more tears. She was so tiny, so light and so comfortable all swaddled up in her hospital blanket. Even though I held my own son 98% of the time when he was a newborn, I wish I had more time with him to just be. Now there is no way on Earth, unless I am taking him to point A to point B, that he will let me hold him for very long. It is just part of having a toddler that loves to walk. Soon enough, it was time for me to leave to be with my own family and as I headed home from the hospital I decided one thing I would do more of; I needed to "stop and smell the flowers" more often.

I entered my home with an improved thought process. I know that every age has their pros and cons. I miss holding my son when he was a newborn, but I don't miss the late night feedings and all the bottles. As my son and husband both greeted me with kisses and hugs, I took a moment to take it all in and to "stop and smell those flowers". It was wonderful. I lived in the moment as my son asked with loving eyes to be picked up and requested to sit on the couch to read a book. As I read his favorite bug book for the tenth million time, I read it as if we never read it before with more energy and excitement. There will be a day when I probably look back and wish that he would ask to sit on my lap and let me read to him. Now is the time to start living in the moment because all these beautiful daily things that happen in my life will be fleeting. I find it even more amazing that a two day old baby taught me a valuable lesson and opened up my eyes just a little bit more. It is amazing what new life can teach you. God bless you little one.

I Don't Have Time To Be Sick!

As parents, I am sure at one time or another when we were down with some type of sickness, we all uttered the words of, "I don't have time for this." I am uttering those words as I am typing this, because honestly I don't have the time to be sick. Being sick means that I lose that delicate juggle of balancing being a energetic Mom, loving wife, dedicated employee and a decent house cleaner to my beautiful three bedroom, always messy town home. When I am sick, the juggling act ends in a disappointing folly of miscalculating the numerous things that I as a Mom have to do on a daily basis and it takes forever to "catch up" when I start feeling better.

I have learned early in life that family is number one. I don't put anyone or anything before that. Therefore most of my attention and energy is always focused on my son and then my husband. I say my son first because my husband can feed himself, is toilet trained and communicates rational thought. My son needs me more then ever and is quite demanding on those needs. I call him "the little emperor" because even if the house was on fire, if he wanted his apple jacks or a toy on a shelf, he would think Mommy has to tend to his wants first. At least I can say that he knows I'll do anything for him. I just wish I could reason with him that when Mommy is sick she would like to throw up by herself without hearing crying outside her door and feeling guilty for it.

My husband is one of the most thoughtful men I know. I don't say "people" because he does not have that obvious womanly instinct on knowing when something is not right that women can easily pick up on. He's a man, but a good man. My husband does pick up the slack when Mommy isn't feeling well with doing extras on taking care of our son, preparing meals and cleaning up here and there. He is a fantastic surface cleaner, which means that he will see dirty laundry that needs to be picked up, but probably would not clean a crusty bathroom (I know gross). I am appreciative that he sees what he does see and recognizes when I am sick, but my sickness takes away husband/wife time. He usually is busy taking care of something around the house, be it our son or otherwise, so this leaves little time for one on one time. He also works full time, so when he is done picking up my slack, he is tired. This leaves little time/energy for either of us in the bedroom. He commented on the day I got sick about how he would of made love to me, but he understood I was sick. It was a nice thought, but when my libido is ten times the amount of any normal man, I was frankly disappointed that I wasn't well enough. I missed my opportunity! Damn sickness.

As for my work life. I really wonder why my company hasn't fired me. In this economy I am sure glad they haven't. I feel fortunate to have a wonderful, understanding boss, but I am sure my calls of "I can't come into day" are becoming tiresome. In one month I had to call in for my son, who was sick for two days and I had to call in a few days because I wasn't having the case of the "cha chas" at work. Now again I am sick with yet another virus of some sort that I caught from either the plague gorillas at work or the plague monkeys at my son's day care. Can I call in yet again to take some time to get better? Nope, I don't think my boss would believe I am sick AGAIN. I am sure she probably thinks I am a hypochondriac, but I honestly am not.

Then there is the house. I have to laugh to myself a little bit because it resembles more like a war zone and not a house. There is three loads of cleaned laundry dumped on my bedroom floor asking to be folded and put away, toys cluttering all parts of the house, dishes left in the sink, bathrooms needing to cleaned so badly that perhaps a pressure washer of bleach and a face mask just might do the job, and a yard that needs to be cleared away of dog doo. Basically in my Mom's own words when she used to look at my room when I was a teenager "it looks like a war zone in here." I honestly am a clean person. I was a person that before I had children would clean her bathrooms thoroughly from top to bottom every Friday and a person that was so on top of her laundry that there were always clean socks folded and put away and pants were never worn twice in the week without being washed/dried first. I hate a dirty home and I am embarrassed of it. No matter how horrible I feel about the current condition of my home, its last on my list of things to do because I have to take care of my son the best I can AND work so I can bring in an income.

I know I will feel better soon, but I just don't have time in the present to be sick. I have so much to do and so little time as it is to finish everything that I want to finish in one day. I do set the bar high for myself (I think most Moms do) so I feel like a little bit of a failure when things don't get done the way I wanted or when I just don't have the energy for them. I am making strides on feeling better. I am desperate to feel better actually. As a Mom that would never take medicine for anything (perhaps its due to my pregnancy days when I couldn't take a damn thing), I now will take anything (within reason) to make me feel better. I will even down the insanely disgusting cough syrup that I previously refused during all of my childhood/adulthood. I decided (for now) to finish off the prenatal vitamins that I had left over when I was pregnant to boost the vitamins in my body and then get a multi-vitamin from the store to help once I am done with those. I also made a little bit of a late New Years resolution to stop biting my nails. Its a horrible habit I know. Despite the health factor, it is quite embarrassing at the age of 26 to still be biting my nails like a little girl lost in a grocery store. If was to attend a Nail Biters Anonymous meeting, I would say that I am three days clean of biting my nails. Whoo hoo! I am just a Mom on a mission to feel better. If anyone else has some great suggestions then throw them my way. I'll take what you have to say in consideration, but practicing voodoo, working out at the gym and eating organic just isn't going to happen. Remember, I am a Mom pressed for time.