Last year, I made the commitment to care for my aging father in my home 7 days a week and 24 hours a day.   After several falls, injuries, and acts of confusion, I decided that he could no longer live independently and we mutually agreed that he would move in with my husband and me.

When you first begin to notice your parent is aging, it's very emotional to think that the person who took care of you all these years now needs your help.  At first, it's just simple things like running errands or taking them to the doctor's office.  Then it becomes more.  You find yourself making decisions for them that they used to make in an instant.  You need someone to cook for them, clean up after them, or just check up on them.   You notice driving is no longer safe for them or for innocent people on the road.  You know in your heart that you need to take away their driver's license, but they fight it so hard, as it represents their independence; one of the last things that represents their freedom.  When that decision is finally made, you become responsible for taking them everywhere-YOU lose your independence, as well.

It's very traumatic when it comes down to making a choice of living arrangements.  There are so many difficult choices to make.  "Should they live with me or in an assisted living facility?"  Having that conversation with my dad in one of his more lucid moments was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do.  For the first time I saw fear in my dad's eyes; fear of being a burden, fear of ill health, fear of losing his bearings, and ultimately-fear of his own mortality.  I chose to keep my father close to me and have him live with us. 

I anticipated there would be tough times and good times and lo and behold, I was right.  Things start off easy enough .You think, "I can do this!"  As their health declines, it gets harder and harder to maintain your attitude, your job, and your own health.  Eventually, you begin losing all your freedom.  Organization becomes second nature.  Hiring caregivers while you're away is mandatory.  Getting up at all hours of the night, just like you would for a newborn , becomes the "norm".  You try very hard not to lose your temper, but exhaustion mixed with a feeling of being overwhelmed sometimes takes its toll.  When you are responsible for bathing them, shaving them, dressing them, as well as trying to keep them safe, it is difficult to say the least and I can't begin to explain how hard it is to watch helplessly as you see them slipping.

All I can say is that some days are great and some are not.  I am strengthened and encouraged by the multitudes of our patients who are on this same journey and have shared their experiences with me.  My emotions are raw-laughing one minute and crying the next.  Most of all I cry...a lot!  I know that one day all I will have are my memories.  Right now when my dad fades in, I am grateful for our time together....and when he fades out, I find myself....missing my dad.

  

Thank you, Vicki, for sharing your heartfelt and touching story.  So many people have asked of Vicki's whereabouts.  I thought we would give you an update.  Vicki had emergency surgery on March 26th after suffering severe pain in her arm and shoulder.   While the original pain is much better after the surgery, she still faces several weeks of difficult and painful rehabilitation.  We anticipate, based on her doctor's advice, she will be out of the office 4-6 weeks during her recovery.  She asked me to thank everyone for your prayers, calls, cards, and best wishes.  Hurry back Vic-We Miss You!

Much gratitude,