Bad News And Magic Tricks
Each morning, we awaken, having no idea what the day might bring that could shake our world. With only one eye open, I peeked from under my delicious fluffy pink blanket at the digital clock on the bedside table. I heard sounds from the next room which told me that our aide and Hubby were awake and together… but all was not well. Hubby was trying to console our aide who was sobbing uncontrollably. I joined them to hear the news that her beloved mother in the Philippines has been diagnosed with stage four colon cancer. With the wonders of modern technology, she has been able to speak to her parents every single day while she was working so far from home. They could see one another and it has always been an important part of their days.
Now her mother is in hospital in very serious condition. There is a tumor in her colon and the cancer has spread everywhere. Theoretically there is surgery which could be done to remove the tumor, which might buy her extra time, but Covid has made the supply of blood in the Philippines very scarce. The possible surgery causes extensive blood loss and the doctors warn that there might not be enough blood available to safely proceed. And if the surgery was successful, how much time would actually be left for her loved one? My own mother passed from lung cancer which had spread throughout her body. I completely understood how lonely aide felt, crying at our dining room table. She went to her bedroom to speak to family members in her home country.
Hubby was very upset. He understood a large part of what was transpiring. He wanted to make her feel better. I asked him just to sit quietly as it was a very emotional time for her. He listened. Then he asked “Does this mean that she cannot take care of me anymore?” I was honest in my response:
Maybe. That is a decision which she will have to make.
Going home to the Philippines would mean that she would not be able to return. She has a husband here and the money that they earn is critical to help their families back at home. They have begun building a home near her parents, but it is only half completed, awaiting further earnings to pay for the balance. This was a heavy decision to be made by our beloved aide, and one which would impact on us massively.
It was impossible for me to avoid thinking ahead, even though she had not yet decided what she would do. Hubby kept saying “I love that girl. I will tell her not to go.” I explained, very gently, that we do not have the right to tell her any such thing. She is entitled to her life and must make her own decisions.
We were extremely relieved when she joined us once again, and shared that there was no way that she could return home now. She has many brothers and sisters to surround her mother and care for her, and she can continue seeing her and speaking to her every day with their cellphones. The family needs the money she earns to pay for their mother’s hospital and doctor bills. Her decision was best for all involved.
It has been hard to train my brain to stay in the moment. I do this for my own sanity. Once the brain begins to spiral out-of-control, I can no longer function with the responsibilities that life has thrust upon me. As it is, I am treading water, and know full well that there are a few things I have avoided dealing with which will bite me in the tush if I do not handle them soon. The very thought that I would lose our aide after about a year and a half of her living with us, brought many concerns to the surface. I did not want to think about them, but thoughts are like butterflies… they flit in and fly out just as quickly. It has become very clear to me just how hard it would be to find another aide to live with us who would have the patience to understand Hubby.
Dementia patients are very different than older people who have only classic age-related disabilities. Even with the best of medications, their behavior can be erratic. They can be quick to anger, over the smallest irritation, and new caregivers can easily be insulted and decide that they do not want to live in a dementia environment. The patient’s condition can be further complicated with hallucinations, and mental confusion – both of which may come and go with no warning. For those of us who love our family members, there is compensation in the memories that we have of our relationships before the dementia began. More than one part-time aide has refused to return to work for us, knowing that she can easily find another position with someone whose personality and reactions are more stable than Hubby’s. Apparently, there are few (if any) classes on offer for professional aides, to prepare them to care for someone with memory loss. Alzheimer’s, Lewy Body Dementia, and more than twenty-five different conditions can result in dementia. How difficult would it be to prepare someone to understand that anger and erratic behavior from a dementia patient is to be expected, and not to be taken personally? I think that psychodrama classes could be offered to teach care-givers how to deal with unwarranted insults, stress, or other dementia behaviors.
We are very fortunate that our aide has decided that she cannot return to the Philippines even though she would love to be by her mother’s side. As I began to ponder the difficult future without her, I forced myself to put those thoughts on hold until she had made her decisions. If nothing else, this experience has taught me how to live in the moment. One step at a time is my motto now. No cart-before-their-horses for me! How many more slogans can I pull out of the proverbial hat?
My dad was a magician for his entire life. I loved watching the bunny rabbits being pulled out of his magic black top-hat. Dad was a master of the slight-of-hand, and I learned very early in life to face real demons rather than imaginary ones.
Hubby and I have been given a reprieve. We must all count our blessings every day… even when they seem elusive, just like my father’s magic tricks.
