Weather, Mother, and Memes

 I completely forgot to include an update on Hurricane Debby in my last post.

Debby petered out after pounding the east coast of the United States. We had a couple of rainy and windy days here as the storm passed offshore, but it's the kind of summer weather we never would have thought twice about when I was growing up. So we were lucky with that one.

Now we have Ernesto, alternating between hurricane and tropical storm status, passing to the south of us. It had been expected to take a swipe at the outer edge of Newfoundland, but today it appears to have veered further offshore. I doubt we will notice any effects here at all.

Hurricane season in Nova Scotia officially runs from June 1 to November 30, with the most activity from mid August to October. So we are just getting started on that period now. Due to significant ocean warming, this season is forecast to be worse by far than previous years.

And yet, aside from the outliers like Fiona - whose wrath we felt in September, 2022 - our storms are nothing like those which hit the southern parts of the U.S. and places like Haiti and the Caribbean Islands. I feel like a wuss even talking about hurricanes that threaten us, considering the devastation other places experience.

Anyway . . . that's the update for now. I'm sure there will be more to come on this topic as the season progresses.

*****

And another update on my mother. Her neighbours visited her today, and reported to me that she was in good spirits - even singing! This was the first visit from anyone other than me, as they were holding off until she was more settled.

I told them I was glad to get a different perspective on her mood, and that she must save up all her complaints for me - which is natural and understandable. They said they saw the same thing with one of their relatives who had dementia - she only complained to her caregiver daughter. So that helps me feel better. And I'm glad she had company other than my sorry self!

*****

A handful of memes for you in case you need them today:

I identify all too strongly with this.

I hope the week goes well for you.

Miscellaneous Update and Other Things

So often I feel like I post about a topic and then completely forget to follow up with what happened next.

So, a few updates on recent posts:

- The Samoyed husky I was worried about disappeared from the front yard of its house two days after I made the complaint to the SPCA. It reappeared a day later, for one day only. Then not only did it disappear again, its leash and bowl that were always by the front door were gone as well. At the same time, I started seeing a Samoyed being walked in the nearby neighbourhood. I have never seen another dog of this breed in this area before. This new Samoyed has a haircut but looks about the same age. Is it the same dog? It's possible. Or the original might have been simply relegated to the back yard instead of the front yard. The back yard is completely enclosed with a high wooden fence, so I have no way of knowing by simply looking. I would need to follow up on my complaint to the SPCA, or stop my car and ask the dog walking people about the dog's history, neither of which I am keen to do because I am a spineless excuse for a person. And I can't take any more stress right now. If the dog is still with the original family  and has been in the breeze-less back yard during our several severe heat waves, I don't think I can handle knowing that. I prefer to cover my eyes and ears and hope he is living his best life with a different family now. Maybe some day soon I will gather up my courage and try to find out. Not today. Not yet.

- As I just said, we have had a couple more heat waves. Man, I detest looking up the weather forecast and seeing that blazing red banner across the screen that warns us of impending hot and humid weather! I can't function in the heat/humidity, so the gardening goes undone, even household chores go undone, while I huddle in my house or scurry to the air-conditioned grocery store and back for necessities. The nights are starting to feel fall-ish now and it feels like I have wasted summer.

- My mother is still unhappy at the nursing home. Every second sentence in her conversation is a variation on the theme of "going home". However, I have a new perspective on that which is helping me cope with my guilt that I placed her there. At an Alzheimers support group meeting, the facilitator mused that from everything I'd told them it seemed like my mother wasn't a very happy person. It took me by surprise, because (1) I'd never thought about it that way before, and (2) if I had been asked, I'd have said she seemed like . . . well, not a happy person, but a contented person . . . and I realize now that she was only contented as long as she was doing what she wanted, when she wanted, with the people she wanted . . . and that is not the same as being a happy person, is it? It blew my mind a little. At heart, my mom is not a happy or cheerful person. She would not be happy if the nursing home accommodations were absolutely opulent. She would not be happy if she was living with me, either. When she had to stay with me during storms or power outages, she became restless and wanted to go home after a few hours. What she does want is to be at her own home, doing what she wants, when she wants, etc., but because of the dementia she can't understand how she was only able to do that due to the scaffolding of assistance being provided to her (by me). So, there is not the happy ending I hoped for (including her enjoying opportunities to socialize). But the guilt I feel is getting lighter.

- More shooting stars!! The Perseid Showers just took place last week, and I went out a couple of nights to watch. I didn't lie  down, so it was hard on the neck, but in the brief time I watched, I got to see three more meteors blaze out - nice bright ones. I enjoyed those moments, but I equally enjoyed just looking at the stars in the night sky and thinking about our miraculous orb in the vast universe. It gives me such a sense of wonder and awe and peace.

*****

In the "Other Things" category, I seem to be coming across weird things in the news lately. Like this piece about sharks testing positive for cocaine in Brazil. Aren't sharks highstrung enough without drugs in their systems??

And I stumbled across this poem by Sara Teasdale recently. She wrote it during WWI, but it feels as timely today as it must have done then. I've had the tab open in my browser for over a week, waiting to post about it, and even seeing the tab showing the first line of the poem brings me a sense of calm and hope, despite the state of the world. I wish I had written anything so beautiful in my own life, and will continue to try. Here is the original version referred to in the Wikipedia article at the link:

"There Will Come Soft Rains"

     - Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows calling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

*****

I wish you soft rains, and the smell of the ground, and all comforting things this week, especially if you are having a difficult time, whether it's from anxiety, or stress, or ill health, or loss. 

 

Something Good from Something Bad

You may live in North America, or you may read blogs written by North American bloggers, or you may follow weather around the world. Whatever the case, many of you have probably heard about Hurricane-turned-Tropical Storm Debby which is moving up the eastern side of the United States as I write this. 

The most dangerous feature of this particular storm is the amount of rainfall it is carrying. It is moving slowly, so the rain is causing flooding in many places. There has also been at least one tornado and there has been loss of life.

Amidst the worry and the danger and the destruction, here is something I hope will cheer you. It's a story of the good that is in people. I believe there is so much good in most people and often they just need an outlet for it.

If you don't have a Facebook account I think you can still access this reel just to watch it. Unfortunately I haven't been able to locate it on YouTube or any other format except Facebook. I hope you can view it.

Click HERE.

Footnote: Debby was headed for Nova Scotia, set to arrive on Sunday, but the latest projection shows it going through New Brunswick and Quebec instead. The path could change again. Storms will do what storms will do.

If you are in the path of the storm or have suffered damage or loss of any kind from it, my heart goes out to you and I hope you are safe.

Wildlife

It is common to see poor, squashed animals on the scenic roads of our fair province in most months of the year, with an uptick in summer. Raccoons, skunks, porcupines, squirrels, birds, and even deer are, sadly, casualties of traffic on our highways and even within town limits.

I have driven into a bird (once that I know of) and over a skunk (but he wasn't on the road when I went back immediately to look, so he may have avoided my wheels). I have also narrowly missed squirrels, deer, and mice.

Recently my mental list of possible victims I need to watch for when driving has increased.

While driving across a causeway a few weeks ago, I noticed a large turtle at the edge of the road, pointed toward the other side. I did not stop to assist him to cross safely for several reasons including that it is illegal to stop on that causeway, there was heavy traffic, and I was late for an appointment. Also I was wary of being bitten. But I looked for evidence of death, or escape from death, on my return trip, and was relieved that there was no body in sight.

Last week when driving through a rural area, something caught my eye on the opposite side of the road. It was a frog, hopping mightily . . . but also mighty slowly, or it seemed that way to me as I stood on the brakes and hoped for the best. I think I missed him because, again, there was no body on my return trip. I hope he lived to hop another day.

I also had a close call with a small bird not long ago. I can't be sure I didn't send him to heaven, but I didn't check because I would have had to drive twenty minutes out of my way to get back on that highway exit to take a look, and if he was injured/almost dead, what the heck would I even do? Run over him again, just to be sure??

I must stress I was not speeding and I was paying full attention to the road and the sides of the road. These are all just random encounters at random times. It's making me want to give up driving, though. 

I was going to tell you about the deer whose leg was broken in a collision with a car and who came and laid under the bush beside our front door, and who was dispatched by a Department of Natural Resources bullet beside our front door - but that seems like a bridge too far. Nobody wants to hear a story like that.

Okay, this post is swerving wildly between happy endings and horrible ones, and now that I've unloaded all of that on you, I think you deserve some happier wildlife stuff to cleanse your mind.

 

Skunks will do that to you.

And because cats are sort of wildlife, I give you these:

That's all for today, folks. Hope you're having a good one :)

Three Itsy Bitsy Miracles. Maybe Four.

The oppressive heat and humidity have finally broken - for now, anyway - and life seems bearable again.

Three weeks of daytime highs in the mid 30s C (90s F) and the humidity making it feel like high 30s (over 100F), with the humidity continuing overnight and making it hard to cool the house naturally, and, well, I wasn't doing much beyond surviving.

I realize those temperatures sound very tolerable to folks living in southern USA, Australia, or southern Asia, but I am prone to overheating and fainting when it gets that hot. It was that way even before I gained weight. I can remember "laying out" in the sun to get a tan when I was 17 years old and 90 pounds soaking wet, before we knew about skin cancer, and after fifteen or twenty minutes I had had enough. As I got up to go inside the house, I became very dizzy and my vision went dim. I didn't black out, but it was close. I have also been close to fainting at work after just walking from the car to the office. If I had not lain down on the dusty floor in my office clothes with a cold wet towel on my head, I'd have been a goner. (I say this as someone who has fainted on other occasions. I know the progression, and this was a close one.)

As my husband used to tease me, I am clearly "a delicate flower".

Ha.

Ha.

Ha.  

Thank you for all your comments on my last post. I needed very much to vent, and you all kindly listened/read and I appreciate it.

But just to prove that I am more than my constant complaining would suggest, I have three things to tell you - little tiny uplifting miracles on days when I felt that one more glitch would send me over the edge. The first two happened when I was still hands-on caregiver to my mom, and my stress level was constantly off the charts. The third was a few days ago. To be honest, many days I still feel like one more "thing" will exceed my ability to cope. I think I am still in burnout, but I'm hoping time will help.

The caregiver brain. I can attest this is very accurate. I have experienced everything here, to some degree or another, except the baby locks, bed sores, incontinence, and changing adult diapers. And I wasn't even a live-in caregiver, as many caregivers are. Did you know that being a caregiver puts you at higher risk of death? The National Institute of Health in the United States says the risk is 63% higher. (Link HERE.)

But I've gotten off the track, into the weeds. Again.

Here goes.

Miracle One:

Way back in winter, on a very cold evening, I was on my way to my mother's and stopped to pick up a few groceries for her. When I returned to my vehicle, it wouldn't start. I sat and thought about what to do. Time was ticking, and I had to get to my mom's place fairly quickly, and then go to work. I still have two vehicles, my late husband's SUV, which I was driving, and my own car, which was at home. I checked with the store manager to make sure I could leave the SUV there overnight. Then I called a taxi to take me home to get my car, and sat in the SUV to wait. I looked out the side window and - boom! - caught the fall of a bright meteor in the sky. I like to watch the Perseids meteor shower each August and have seen a fair number of them, but this was far bigger and brighter than any I have seen. If I hadn't been there at that moment, with nothing to do but look out the window at the sky, I would never have witnessed it.

Side note: Shortly before that, I had read that if a meteor gets brighter and larger it means it's coming straight toward you, which is not really a good thing. This meteor did not do that, thankfully. But you can bet that micro-thought crossed my mind as soon as it registered how bright this one was.

Miracle Two:

I dropped an earring in my kitchen one evening and absolutely could not find it. I checked the floor over and over. I looked under the appliances with a flashlight (lots of dust but no earring), and then dusted under the appliances because I couldn't un-see the dust. I checked the countertop in case the earring, being small, had somehow defied gravity and leaped sideways as it fell. I checked the top of my sneaker in case it had bounced back up and was tangled in my laces. No luck.

Then I tried a trick I read about when I was a kid: drop another thing just like the first thing, and watch it carefully to see where it lands. Believe it or not, this often works. I've found needles and pins and other tiny things using this method.

However, this time it failed me. The second earring just ker-plunked beside my foot.

I sat down (because it's easier to think when I don't have to stand up at the same time. Don't judge me.). I couldn't believe that the earring could just disappear into thin air, so I got up to check the floor again. Still nothing. Quelle surprise. Yes, I know the definition of insanity - doing the same thing repeatedly, expecting a different result. But what would you have done if you were me?

Finally, finally, it occurred to me to check the bottom of my sneaker . . . and there was the missing earring, stuck in the tread, which was so deep the earring had no affect on my walking and didn't clickety-click on the floor, either of which would have alerted me to its presence. 

Miracle Three:

My basement is very full of things I have not yet parted with after moving into one level of my home while my son lives in the upper level. There are dozens of cardboard boxes and a box spring and mattress in one area of the basement, where coincidentally I've had a dehumidifier running since June. It is the kind that has a container which must be emptied when full. There is a sensor suspended just inside the lip of the container that shuts off the dehumidifier when it needs to be emptied.

Somehow, some dang way, something didn't work, and the container overflowed. I didn't notice right away, not until I spotted a soggy cardboard box about six feet away from the dehumidifier. With a heavy heart I started cleanup.

People, the pool of water stopped right before it reached the edge of the mattress. A half hour of work took care of the mess. None of the contents of the boxes were ruined, even though they contained old photo albums, paperwork, and books. I could hardly believe my good luck.

***

And now for one more minor miracle, this one for you: we have almost got to the end of this post!

Except for a few funnies which I hope is a somewhat acceptable exchange for your patience in reading my extremely detailed descriptions of the other three miracles.

That's a wrap. Almost.

I hope your week is going fricking fine, my friends 😁

Tell me how you're doing in the comments if you wish. I'm a-waiting.

Heat Stress

Hello, I'm back, I really didn't think I'd take this long to write another post, I will fill you in.

Immediately after my previous post, I had to have work done on my house. First it was the removal of my chimney due to long-term (as it turned out) leaking, then the wall abutting the chimney had to be repaired, outside and inside, and hardwood flooring had to be repaired, and then while the contractor was here, I had a half a dozen windows replaced (a job I had booked a year ago).

All of that took three weeks and the last of my reserves.

And in the middle of that, my mother suffered two compression fractures in her back, I resumed visiting (which felt like walking through an emotional minefield), I had to prepare for and attend a care conference at her nursing home (standard for new residents), and the hell of summer descended upon us in all its hot and humid glory.

Ah. Now we are getting to the point of the title.

I'm stressed by the actual heat and humidity. My new vinyl windows do not "take" the window air conditioners I have been relying on for many summers. They are not as robust as wood windows, and the air conditioners are large units. I do plan to have heat pumps installed, which will allow cooling in summer, but that is a few months away.

I am also stressed by worrying about how my mother is coping in this weather. It turns out the care home has enough cooling technology that Mom is not in danger of overheating; in fact, she doesn't realize it's summer because she is cool all the time. That does help my worried brain, but I didn't find out the home was cool until yesterday because I hadn't visited since the start of the heat wave.

I'm also stressed by the fact that a couple of streets away, on a route I drive every day, a family owns a Samoyed husky, who is tied at the front of the house almost all the time. There is a tree, so he does have shade, but the heat and humidity we get are beyond what he should and perhaps can tolerate. (I don't know. Any guesses from dog owners out there?) The dog has lived there for over a decade, but I think the owners of the house are different people now (I'm guessing a second generation of family that have taken ownership of both house and dog), and the dog doesn't seem to be cared for like he used to be. He always used to be pristine white whereas he is now stained and yellow; I never used to see him outside in the heat, and I often saw him out for walks with his people. It's rare to see the family walking him now. His age, maybe? Or the family being busy with two young children, perhaps.

The second day of the current heat wave, I was so disturbed I made a call to the SPCA, where I had to leave a message due to the volume of calls. Not fully trusting the messages to be monitored, I also left the same information on their online complaint page. In Nova Scotia, animal welfare officers are legally required to follow up within 24 hours of receiving a complaint. 

The next day the husky was not in the front yard of his house. The day after that, he was not in the front yard of his house. Yesterday, he was again tied out front. It was early evening when I drove past and it was starting to cool a bit but it was still 30C out (with a humidex of 37C). I didn't know what to do. So I did what I always do when I hit a wall, worry-wise: I came home and fretted until I could go to bed and escape into sleep-time oblivion.

I should follow up with the SPCA; there is provision for complainants to do that. I just feel so stressed by everything, I can barely function. I am trying to keep my two elderly cats cool using a portable air condition; they both have health problems including kidney disease and due to one's aggressive personality they can't be in the same room, so I have rigged up a sort of "half-door" between rooms and must use a fan to move the cool air into the second room. I am trying to keep myself reasonably cool, staying up late to keep the house opened up. I worry about my son who lives on the second floor of the house, where it's even hotter, and his two cats (although he tells me they are all fine). I am trying to find a new schedule of visiting my mother, which is a delicate balance of considering her loneliness versus my mental health caused by feeling like I have been at her beck and call for the last three years. 

So . . . heat stress. It's partly about the heat, but it's a LOT MORE about the stress.

I feel like a huge Whiney McWhiney Pants. I know there are lots of folks worse off than I am. I know there are lots of animals worse off than the husky on the next street. I know there are people who have no house and no portable air conditioner and no means to get one, and who also don't know where their next meal is coming from.

I am grateful for everything I do have, and especially grateful that I don't have the worry of my mother's daily care anymore. (I do worry about her daily, but about different things.)

But I wish there was a button on my forehead I could hit to turn my brain off now and then. Just for a little rest, you know? Just for a few hours while I am awake and conscious. Just to stop my mind from fretting over things, and allow me to get other things done.

Are you a worrier too? How do you cope when the worry hits the danger zone? Do you worry about animals you see under poor conditions? How do you handle that?

I hope you have a worry-free week ahead.

And if it can't be entirely worry-free, I hope it is a "worry-lite" version of your usual life. I hope you have found the magic solution that lets you park your worries for a bit, and relax deeply.

I wish that for us all, whatever our troubles may be.

THIS.
 THIS IS WHAT I NEED ON MY FOREHEAD.

Update

 A lot has happened here since my last post in February.

Mom was admitted to a long-term care home (nursing home) last Friday.

It's hard for her, and she is still in the adjustment period.

Before that, it was hard for me. I'm exhausted mentally and physically. I feel like I need a year to recover from the stress of the last four years, of supporting my husband through cancer, losing him, and then becoming my mother's caregiver.

And I am finding that the mom-related stress hasn't stopped, it has just changed.

Instead of worrying constantly about whether she is off on a walk, or if she can find the food I left for her, or if she has fallen and can't get up, what I can make for meals that will appeal to her, and how I will get through the mind-numbing time spent listening to her repeat and repeat and repeat herself, now I am worrying about whether she is going to ever be contented at the nursing home. I am worrying about whether it was the right thing, and then feeling helpless because it was the ONLY thing I could do when she wasn't able to take care of herself but wouldn't accept any help except mine.

But for this week, at least, I am trying to take time off. It was recommended that I not visit my mother until further notice. So I am at home, not doing anything unless I feel like it. I am reading a book a day. I am looking after my elderly cats and eating what I feel like eating and sleeping when I want to sleep. I am trying to rest my mind and body.

I don't know if I have the energy to dip back into the past months to try to describe the life I had to lead, or whether I need to just leave it all behind.

I think there is value in writing about it, and hopefully value in reading about it, because many folks haven't had to deal with it yet, and the reality is grim and should be talked about more. The statistics suggest that many of us will have to face being caregivers. Knowledge can help prepare us for that..

But it is tiring to go into the details. (I tried, today, and gave up.)

For now, this is where I am. 

I'm still here. My life has changed again. I'm still trying to fit together the pieces that were left when my husband died. Now I am also trying to figure out what my life will be like without my mother's care as a central focus. I feel adrift and sad and worn out. 

But I'm optimistic that time will help, and the supports I have tried to put in place in my life will help.

One of those supports was the blogging world, and I would like to get back to reading and writing.

I'll take it one step at a time.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Following an assessment ten days ago, my mother's geriatrician has finally agreed to sign a form stating that she no longer has the capacity to make her own health decisions. This is huge. I expected nothing from this assessment, like all the ones before it. But apparently the doctor heard what I was saying about my mother's recent decline.

This means:

- My brother and I can consent to her receiving assistance in her home without her agreement

- We can get her on a waiting list for placement in a nursing home

- We can make other health care decisions about treatment, decisions she might not be able to make because she can no longer absorb information or think logically

It's such a crippling weight off my shoulders.

I asked the geriatrician's assistant what to do if Mom "fires" the in-home help. She said that now the form has been signed, the workers who come to her home have to try very hard to keep their foot in the door. And she said many of them are very good at handling difficult clients.

There will still be work ahead for me, I know. The wait for a space in a care home is long, averaging about 18 months. But being relieved of some of the burden of medication management, daily hygiene, and meals will be a tremendous help to me. For the last three years, I have felt like my life was being consumed by tending to my mother, largely because she wouldn't accept other help that was available to her. When I read my journal from the summer of 2023 I am afraid for the person I was then. The only thing I could do was limit my time with Mom. Gradually, after many months, I was able to start to relax and try to repair my nerves.

Now I can see some light at the end of the tunnel, and contrary to the old joke, that light is not an oncoming train. With professional help, Mom will get to stay in her home for a while longer, and it won't be at the cost of my sanity. I know that saying my sanity was on the line may sound like an exaggeration, but, trust me, it's not. I have been barely treading water for a long time.

I am hoping that increased contact with people other than me will not just provide her with physical care that she requires, but will also help with her boredom and socialization needs.

As I mentioned above, she has declined quite a bit since the last assessment eight months ago.

She has twice filled the house with smoke from overheating something in the microwave. When the smoke detector went off, she didn't know what it was or what she should do. We are lucky she never started a full-blown fire. (The microwave is gone now.) 

She is unable to understand how the furnace thermostat works, and tends to use it like an ON/OFF switch, resulting in a very cold or a very hot house. She had similar problems with the portable air conditioner last summer.

She's not understanding time, distance, and season. She has gotten ready to go outside in only a light jacket for a winter day because the air in the house was warm.

She has lost over ten pounds since last June, which was a particular red flag for the doctor. I keep her supplied with food meant to appeal to her even if it's not as healthy as it could be. She especially likes sweets lately, which I've read is common as the disease progresses. I also take her out twice a week to eat. But she just doesn't have much appetite anymore.

She has also been forgetting to take her morning pills, the ones I leave with her each evening when I take her bedtime pill to her. For nearly three years she has been able to manage the morning pills with the help of a note placed beside her pills. No longer.

The bottom line is that dementia is a progressive and fatal disease. As a person's brain dies, all the voluntary actions start to die, then the involuntary ones. People become unable to walk, control bladder and bowels, talk, interact, chew, swallow, smile. Dementia will eventually kill her, if she doesn't die of another cause first. The doctor made a point of telling me not to feel guilty and that I have been doing a good job of caring for her. That does help. I wish I could have taken better care of Mom but it's not been easy for a host of reasons.

And the grief counsellor I am seeing has also reminded me about the inevitability of decline and death due to the illness, and that I cannot stop or reverse the end result. That helped too.

I knew those things, but when you are in the middle of the situation that knowledge can be hard to remember.

Knowing that real, hands-on help is coming has helped me find my empathy again. That is also a huge relief. Stress is a horrible thing, and mine was affecting not just me but also my mother. I had so little patience with her over the last months. Even limiting our time together gave me only so much patience for the next visit. I dreaded the pill visit from mid-afternoon until the visit was completed in the evening. I don't like feeling that way and I don't like how I reacted to my mother because of it. But I felt helpless to change anything while the situation was getting worse and worse and Mom refused help. 

I hope that being honest about this process as it has played out with my mother and me might help someone else who is going through the same thing or may do so in the future. Even with the knowledge I had from observing dementia patients in my father's nursing home for eight years, I realize now I knew next to nothing about meeting the challenges myself.

(Update since I first drafted this post a week ago: The wheels of in-home care move slowly. So slowly they could be mistaken for standing still. I'm still waiting for action. This is one of the bumps in the road I was talking about. Stay tuned.)

The view from inside the tunnel hasn't changed yet, but I'm hoping . . .

Thanks for reading, my friends. I hope the week ahead is kind to you.