Caregiver is my Middle Name

Throughout my Junior High years I spent the weekends with my Grandparents. They lived in town and my Grandma had suffered from a stroke and needed help getting around the house, cooking, and general taking care of. It was during those years that I mastered the poached egg on toast, instant coffee, and could throw together a good supper of shake n bake pork chops and potatoes.

Sometimes I wrestle with guilt that I could have done a better job of it. When my Grandma needed to go to the bathroom in the night she banged on the wall of her bedroom with her cane until I came to help her. I remember getting impatient with her one night after she called me in 3 or 4 times.

I have been helping my family care for my Mom this past week. She was in the hospital for 4 days and when she was released I had to learn to give her a shot in her stomach twice a day. It was pretty scary the first time I had to pierce her skin, but after a couple of days I felt a little more confident with flicking the bubble to the top, wasting .5 mg, creating a bubble and flicking it to the top again.

My Mom can be a feisty patient. Perhaps it is due to being in the nursing profession for 30+ years. When she was in the hospital a number of years ago for pain in her chest (ended up being pleurisy) and the doctors were unclear of what it was and wanted to perform a rectal exam, my mom declined it saying "You are going to have to go up awfully far to check my lungs."

I am so thankful that she is recovering so well. A highlight of last week was when my Mom opened the door for the home health nurse who walked in and asked, "Where's the patient? Is she back in the bedroom?" My Mom grinned and replied, "Umm, I am the patient."