Hi. I'm 59 years old, divorced, three kids, three kids in law, six grandbabies (the oldest is 3 1/2, the youngest is 3 weeks) I moved in with my Mom six years ago, when my dad passed away from cancer. I truly thought Mom would join him within six months. But here we are. She has had COPD for 25 years. In May, there were several huge wildfires burning near our CA home. Her breathing deteriorated badly. We saw her pulmonary doctor, and a cardiologist, but I still wound up calling 911 at 4;30AM one July morning. She was admitted to the hospital with pulmonary edema and ventricular fibrulation. A week later, her lungs were fluid free, and she was on a very potent heart medication. The problem is, this episode left her with memory problems. She forgets things I have just told her, asks the same questions over and over again, misplaces things, thinks things are suddenly missing that were thrown out or given away years ago.
My big problem isn't any of this...I realize what's happening, keep in contact with doctors and my siblings. My problem is my attitude. All my life my mother was hyper critical of me. I never felt like I measured up or that anything I did was good enough. My mother was and still is high maintenance. When she was healthy, it was all about her. (my daughter is the same way, so it must be hereditary) Sometimes I wonder if she exaggerates her problems to get attention. Yesterday, she mistakenly took her daily meds twice, despite having a 7 day pill box and a chart to check them off. So we agreed I would take all her meds into my room, and dispense them as needed. This morning, she asked me if one of her meds was for her heart. Of course, I replied. Why? Well, she thought she might need to take it. Why? Oh, she just felt "weird" . I gave her her morning meds and went to get dressed. Later, she called to me to come into the living room. Could I find her pulse? She wasn't sure she had one. No matter how many times she pulls this on me, I still laugh. Mom, If you don't have a pulse, you wouldn't be sitting here asking me to find it. It was strong and steady. A ploy for attention, or a real concern? Who knows. I just know I filter everything through my own insecure/unappreciated viewpoint.
How do I provide care for someone when I feel as though I need someone to care for ME??
