Saturday, November 15, 2014 

My dearest friend Nancy is suffering so. Her husband Eric has been in the hospital or rehab since the end of July. A few untimely iatrogenic mistakes, now he no longer talks and no longer walks. The hospital is making noises about sending him to a nursing home. The latest prognosis—as they play God—is that he will not recover. Nancy and I saw this coming, but it’s not something you dwell on. You just hope otherwise. Eric is being fed through a peg and he suffers terrible pain, necessitating catheterization every 4 hours. He moans and shouts—noises he can make. Nancy can hardly bear to hear him, but she is at his side as continuously as possible. She feels guilty when she has to go home to check on mail or see to the dogs when her daughter is not around or is working. She knows it’s a matter of time before she has to sell the house or possibly give the dogs up for adoption (temporarily?). As she explained the other evening, she no longer readies her cup of coffee before his 6:30 am call each morning (Eric used to work in NJ during the week). She no longer has her companion by the lanai on weekend evenings. Her lover, her friend, her confidant is gone. Now she is his caretaker and she has to do everything she can—for better or worse—for his well-being.

This puts a whole new wrinkle on my caregiving for mom. Comparatively speaking, mom is no trouble at all. Like any dependant, mom can be demanding. And I did get up twice the night before last to clean the bathroom—once at 2:30 am and once at around 4:45 am. I got no sleep that night because I kept hearing mom slam the bathroom door shut. I have since solved that problem by draping a towel over the top of the door. She can try to slam it, but she won’t be able to. And I will no longer hear it.

Unlike Eric, mom can walk, she can eat, and she can drink. Unlike mom, Eric’s mind still works perfectly well—from what we can gather. And that is a horror. If he were unable to understand his predicament, it might be easier on him. But his level of cognizance makes his condition that much less bearable for those who love him.

Nancy said she would he perfectly happy if she did not wake up in the morning. She barely sleeps, but cries through the night. She has lost more than 20 pounds and her hair is no longer thick. I know someday she will/might recover. But the most difficult thing is that I can say or do nothing to make a difference. I call her daily. I pray for her. I ask others to pray for her. There are times when she outlines the day and I hear so much sadness in her voice that I cannot answer. I cannot respond. I can say nothing. My words would only be empty. I do not know her level of sorrow or fear or anger or angst or anxiety. I know only that she trusts in the Lord and leaves everything in His hands. But even at the best of times during this ordeal, there is no consolation. Her best friend, her husband, till death do they part is now totally dependent on a system that is failing them both. He is merely being kept alive to be barely kept alive by an uncaring and unsympathetic system. He will be allowed 120 days in a nursing home. After that, Nancy will have to decide where to put him, how to see to his needs, and how to continue to be his voice.

By contrast, Mom is watching television. Yep, Family Feud! Survey says!!!!! And I am glad to hear it. Mom will surely once again fiddle with the remote, necessitating Rob’s intervention. She will surely many times more soil the bathroom and her clothing. She will call through the night to tell us that Rose, her now deceased sister, won’t come into bed with her. She will call for tissues, cookies, juice, or “what do you have?” She will still complain about the man in the tree and the cat on the fan. And I will thank God for her and for the chance to serve her. I still lack patience, I am not the saint, and I am sure to become unhappy when she calls for the fourth or fifth time while I am working. But she is here and pretty happy and fairly well. I am looking forward to her 100th birthday. Don’t ask when we get there how I am doing! I still might roll my eyes. There will continue to be challenging days! I am sure of it.