Vacation time proved to be a challenge for my family. Clara’s other children worked full time and did not always want to use their vacation time to care for their mother during that week. Sometimes they were able to work things out, other times I would have to make the arrangements for Clara’s care. The difficulty was being able to find someone that was willing to start their day with Clara at 8:00 a.m. and end their day at 11:00 p.m., with lots of stuff in between, including transportation to and from dialysis. Since Clara was not always stable on her feet, people were afraid she would fall so did not feel comfortable taking on the responsibility of getting her to dialysis. The Department of Aging provided transportation, but you had to be able to walk from your door to the van without assistance. At least I did not have to worry about finding someone to bath her; the aide would still come for that. Planning time away never was easy.
One time, my brother and sister-in-law, Tom and Barb, invited us to go to New York City with a group of friends to see a Broadway show. We were to leave Friday afternoon and return Sunday night. Andy and I were excited about the trip, and I was also excited at the thought of having an entire weekend off from Clara. This time her daughter was able to take Clara to her home to care for her. My oldest son, Mike was on Spring break and flew down to Georgia to visit a buddy. Zack was going to stay with friends. We could actually go away worry free and just enjoy the weekend. We drove over to pick up Tom and Barb and before we were out of their driveway my cell phone rang. It was Mike asking me how our health insurance worked out of state because he thought he broke his wrist. I gave him instructions on going to the emergency room. At first Andy was getting aggravated by the apparent change in our weekend, but I calmly told him there was no reason to change our plans. Mike was five states away, there was nothing we could really do for him, and that he was with friends and a broken wrist was not the end of the world. My preference would be to go with him to the emergency room, but since that wasn’t possible we continued on with our New York trip. I still felt really good about getting away. On the way, after several unsuccessful attempts to reach Mike by cell phone, I started to worry. So I called one of the mother’s whose son also went on this trip, and asked if she had heard anything. She had not, but promised to call her son and call me right back. When she called me back she said things were not good. It appeared that Mike broke his left wrist and right elbow and was in a good amount of pain. She said she told her son to be sure to have Mike call his mother. The tone of our carefree weekend was changing. When I hung up the phone I started to cry and say, “If he has to go to the bathroom, he can’t even wipe his own butt!” Wonder why that was the first thing that came to mind? By now we were only an hour away from our New York hotel, and we were the transportation for Tom and Barb too. At first I wanted to turn around and go back home to Maryland, but Mike was still in Georgia. We had passed Newark International Airport and my husband said if needed, we would fly back home. I only cried for maybe 20 seconds, but it was enough to change the entire tone of the trip. Once I spoke with Mike, he sounded good, but said he just wanted to come home. I tried to make arrangements with the airlines, unfortunately a strike was looming and there were no available seats until the next morning. I worked off and on through the night and was able to get Mike a return ticket home. Tom and Barb kindly agreed to cut their trip short and drive home with us Saturday night after the show we already had tickets for, since no one else in our group had room in their cars for them. I then called my other brother Jim, who lives next door to me to explain the situation. Mike’s plane would land before we could get home, so Jim quickly agreed to go to the airport to pick him up. I knew his wife, Maria, would smother and mother Mike, just the way I would want to if I was there. Before we left New York, Barb started with a migraine headache accompanied by severe nausea. Similar feelings of having to choose one person over another person that I dearly loved resurfaced. It is such a no win situation I felt in, it left my entire body tense and anxious. I was also tired from being up the night before trying to make Mike’s travel arrangements, and then sight-seeing all day long. Barb was in the worst condition and that poor girl climbed into our back seat armed with a trash bag in the event she vomited. I wondered if she was feeling about me the way I felt about Clara the night of Mike’s car accident when I had to send him off to the hospital by himself while I went to pick Clara up at dialysis. We got home around 4:30 a.m., and Mike was sound asleep in his bed with gauze and ace bandages wrapped around both arms. To me he looked pathetic. I knew Clara would be home in just a matter of hours, and I did not get the break I so desperately wanted and needed.
I was Clara’s full time caregiver for 8 years. I mentioned earlier in this blog that I am posting exerpts from my book, Life with Clara – One Caregiver’s Journey. My goal has always been that my experience and honesty could help others in this life changing role. My entire account is available at www.createspace.com/3469034
It’s too bad some people think about no one but themselves. It seems to me that your children are too old to be calling Mommy when they’re hurt or sick. If it’s life threatening, that’s one thing but some broken bones and a migraine headache? Come on! If I were in your situation, I would have said, “Your dad and I are taking a well-deserved vacation, and you’re old enough to deal with your problems on your own.” My own mother would have done the same thing, and although I wouldn’t have appreciated that when I was young, now that I’m a caregiver, I understand that sometimes, you need to take care of you first. I’m sorry you didn’t get the break you deserve, and I hope you have better luck next time.
Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of
We Shall Overcome
and
How to Build a Better Mousetrap:
Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver
http://abbiejohnsontaylor.com/blog
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