Who Needs a Tub When You Have a Pool?!

Grandma E has always loved a good soak in the bath tub.  However, as she has aged - and her knees have begun to give her trouble - she has found getting out of the tub to be nearly impossible.  This was discussed a couple of years ago when my husband and his older brother supervised the remodel of Grandma's master bathroom and offered the option of a walk-in tub.  She opted for a shower with a seat and detachable sprayer...and she said, "I just won't take baths any more."

But a few months ago, a neighbor alerted me that Grandma had told her how difficult it was to get out of the tub in her guest bath...explaining that she had to turn over onto her hands and knees and crawl out, one leg at a time!  The neighbor had suggested she investigate walk-in tubs...and she wanted me to know this!

Even though the tubs were discussed at one point - and dismissed - my husband did his due diligence and investigated them thoroughly once again.  He presented the details to Grandma E and explained that, while they look like a great solution, there are drawbacks.

You must get into the tub, close the door, sit down, and wait while it fills with water.  This can take ten minutes or more.  The process is the same for the tub to drain after the bath.  You cannot open the door until all of the water is out of the tub.  While many models do include a heater in the seat, it still can get fairly chilly as you sit there...especially if you are wet and waiting for the water to drain.

The tubs must be thoroughly cleaned...or they can mildew.  For an older person, this can be a daunting chore, and not all seniors have housekeepers to do this for them.  Additionally, the price and quality varies greatly.  The "better" models can sell for upwards of $25,000...yes, twenty-five THOUSAND dollars!  One reviewer said that he went to the trouble and expense of installing them in his senior living condos...only to remove them later because they were not being used - or people were using them as storage hampers!

But the kicker for Grandma E was when she said, "I just want to sit and soak in warm water up over my shoulders."  Even in the best walk-in tub, this is not going to happen!  So I suggested that perhaps she should come with me to our city's Aquatic Center and sit in the therapy pool.  Heated to a balmy 94 degrees Fahrenheit, this pool has a built-in bench along one wall where one can sit and enjoy the jets (or not). Depths range from just over 3 feet to 5 feet, so there are plenty of spots along the wall where a person can soak in warm water up around their ears!

Grandma participated in senior water aerobics classes a few years ago at this pool, but she was reluctant to return now. I had tried to get her to go with me several times, and she would always say, "I look horrible in a bathing suit now."  I told her I should hope to look so good in a bathing suit when I am 90!  We talked some more about the pool, and I mentioned several selling points...I would pick her up and take her home...and she could soak while I did my aerobics workout.  There is even a motorized "lift" if she felt she was unable to use the steps to walk into the pool and get back out. I would handle everything with regard to a membership. Finally, she agreed to give it a try.

It took one trip for Grandma to be hooked!  We now go at least three days a week.  The "lift" has never been used...and Grandma never just sits and soaks. She walks around, bounces to the music that is piped in, and visits with others who happen to be soaking/swimming in the therapy pool. We stay about an hour. She has a new swimsuit and swim cap...and with insurance discounts, her "membership" fee was a whopping $25 for the year...with unlimited use!

Aside from the benefit of getting to soak in the warm water, Grandma's knee is much better.  She had been receiving a cortisone shot in her knee every three months.  In February, she was hurting so badly that she counted nearly every minute of the last week before her shot date. She started going to the pool right after that injection, and when her scheduled appointment rolled around in mid-May, she canceled it!  She says she is sleeping better and feeling better all over...and she will be 91 in three weeks!

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I made a point to set up overnight stays for Timothy, Zola and Nathan on consecutive Fridays, so that they could swim on Saturday mornings with Grandma E and me.  While the child and I play in the Olympic-sized swimming pool, Grandma watches us from her bench in the therapy pool.  This makes for a great interchange on the ride to and from the pool, and it gives Grandma something to do while she sits and soaks for an hour.  We plan to do more of these trips this summer.

As always, there are some interesting parallels between the children and Grandma.  I watch both carefully as we get in and out of the car...the child to make sure he/she does not dart into traffic and is securely fastened into the car seat while traveling...and Grandma to make sure she doesn't slip and fall - and that her seat belt is securely fastened before we depart!  I watch all of them get in and out of the pool - and keep a close eye on them as they "swim".  The children become more brave and confident in the water with every visit to the pool.  Grandma becomes a little more bold with her moves, also!  The children are always eager to go to the pool for a swim.  Most days, Grandma eagerly agrees to go "get her swim on", also!

We are blessed to have a wonderful Community Center and Aquatic Center in our town.  The fee for unlimited use of all facilities for our family of five is $25/month...and as I noted earlier, Grandma's fee is $25 annually.  That is a tremendous bargain. We can swim year-round in this indoor pool...7 days a week, usually. The pool rarely closes, unless there is thunder in the area!  For those who are more adventurous, there are water aerobics classes, water Zumba classes...and a wonderful class that meets several times a week in the therapy pool that is geared toward seniors with arthritis.

The only drawback I have found for the little ones is that they are not allowed in the therapy pool unless they are taking a swim lesson with a certified instructor...and the "big pool" is four feet deep at the shallow end.  None of my children are that tall yet, so they cannot touch bottom...and this has affected their confidence level.  They are all three still wearing life preservers...but I am seeing progress and hoping that soon, they will be swimming like fish - all on their own.

I realize that not all communities have indoor pools.  And I am sure that walk-in tubs have their place and are great for some folks.  But this did not seem like a viable solution for our situation...and in doing our homework, we came to the conclusion that these tubs may not be all they're cracked up to be!  Thankfully, we had a "Plan B"...at least for a while.  I know people who are well past age 95 and still using this therapy pool...so hopefully, Grandma E and the kids and I can all make the frequent trek to the Aquatic Center for many years to come yet!

There is something therapeutic about water...and water exercise.  It's good for the body, mind and soul...and we are living proof.  When was the last time you took a dip?

Who is Driving the Car...Keeping Your "Sandwich" Safe

Some of the most challenging situations you and I will ever experience center around a car. I still remember begging my parents to let me drive before my 16th birthday.  Several other kids my age had been given the keys to their parents' cars well before they were of legal age to drive. One of my cousins and a great-niece already had brand new cars in the garage several months before their 16th birthday...ready for them to drive on their big day.  But my parents would not relent...and I was not allowed to make a solo drive until the morning of my 16th birthday.

Me atop my Grand-dad's car in a high school parade - 1972.
I think the car was a Plymouth Sebring!

Conversely, I remember the ordeal that arose when my mother had to tell my Grand-dad (her dad) that he could no longer drive.  He was not having it!  My grandmother stopped driving fairly early, because she was given a diagnosis of Parkinson's Disease, and she somewhat reluctantly accepted the fact that it was deemed unsafe for her to drive. But my poor grandfather felt that my mother and dad were totally emasculating him by suggesting that he put down his car keys.  

Never mind that Grand-dad could not see well enough to discern a raw onion from potatoes on the dinner table...or that he could not hear most of what was said in normal conversation.  Forget the fact that Grand-dad passed someone on the highway north of town one night and took off this person's side mirror - and never knew it!  My Grand-dad still thought he needed to be able to drive...if for no other reason than to be able to transport my grandmother wherever she wished to go. The only way Mother convinced Grand-dad to give up his car is by telling him that a beloved grandson who lived in Texas needed the vehicle.  If Brent needed his car, Grand-dad was glad to let him have it.  

I am quite certain that on some level, my grandfather realized that he was being handed an "out"...but he was allowed to "save face" somewhat.  He wasn't really giving up driving as much as he was helping out his grandson by providing him with a car.  And that was that...except that more than ever, my mother and I - and other family members - were called upon for rides to everything from church to doctor appointments to shopping trips, and more.  And we made this "taxi service" work.

My great-Aunt Altha simply declared at some point that she was finished driving. She called her grandson and told him to sell her car...which he did.  Nothing else was said...there was no remorse.  My aunt fully realized that the time had come to put away her car keys and let someone else do the driving. If only it were always that easy!

1967 Chevy Impala similar to the one my grandmother owned. 
Photo from http://www.impalass427.com

When my dad's mother - my Mam-ma Polly - began to have some little "fender benders" at age 95, we began to hint that the car should probably go.  However, the decision was pretty much hers. And one day, she asked my sister and brother-in-law if they would help her sell her 1967 Chevy Impala - a "mountain-green" tank with a white hard top (similar to the one pictured, but I think hers was four-door).  I believe the buyer paid $500...but the bigger payoff was that the car was not available...and the temptation to drive it was removed.

My Grand-dad and my Mam-ma Polly both lamented frequently that they had to depend on others for rides. They really missed their cars. I think my maternal grandmother and great-aunt enjoyed being chauffeured around - especially my grandmother.  It was not always convenient to shuttle them here and there...and we couldn't always drop everything and go at the very minute that they called and wanted a ride. For my grandmother, especially, planning ahead was a real problem - and apparently not in her vocabulary. But in the end, we made it work as best we could for everyone...and hopefully, we kept the roads safer for others.

December 21, 2015, a 90-year-old man over-corrected on the highway just outside our community and crossed the center line, hitting my brother-in-law, Bruce, and his wife head-on.  The man died at the hospital an hour or so later.  Bruce endured four bowel-resection surgeries in 3 days due to internal injuries from his seat belt...and on New Year's Eve, he succumbed to a heart attack and died. This caused all of us to begin to take a hard look at the driving habits of my mother-in-law, who was then 89. 

We talked about the car - and no longer driving...and Grandma E would say, "I want to drive until I am 90."  Greg agreed to this...as long as nothing changed. She rarely drove anywhere...Walmart, the beauty shop, or maybe to church.  Once in awhile, she would venture across town to visit us.  Still, we worried about her reflexes...and how she might react to other drivers.  As the months ticked by and we neared her June birthday, Greg and his older brother began to discuss what to do about her car.

Just as had happened with my cousin and my grandfather, our great-nephew was on the hunt for a good "commuter car" to drive to work each day in Nashville, Tennessee. The 2007 Ford Fusion that Grandma E was driving had right at 15,000 miles and looked like brand new.  Her sons began to suggest that Grandma E give the car to her grandson.  And she agreed to do this. 

I will tell you, the day that our great-nephew and his family drove away from Grandma E's in the little white car was bittersweet.  I knew it signaled a shift in the family dynamic...and a dependency upon us for her trips - to anywhere! But we have managed pretty well, so far.  The biggest issue we have had is getting Grandma to remember to plan ahead...and on some levels, that's just not gonna happen!  So when I picked her up one morning last week to go to our Aquatic Center for a swim, she said, "I've called in a prescription refill at the pharmacy, and it will be ready later today."  Luckily, it was ready by the time we finished our swim, and we were able to stop and pick it up on the way home.

Other times, she has forgotten to tell us ahead of time about an appointment - or she hasn't remembered that she is running low on milk and other staples.  So Greg has had to adjust his schedule to accommodate an extra "run" to the store - or to her house to pick her up or deliver her somewhere.  But the payoff is that we know that she is not driving herself.

We recently got rid of the last two "5-way harness" car safety seats that we had for Nathan and Zola and promoted them to high-back booster seats like their brother, Timothy, uses. These seats utilize the car's seat belt to strap the child in securely, and we are still teaching "the littles" to fasten their own latches.  But once that is accomplished, the wrestling of those straps from the other car seats will be a distant memory in the rear-view mirror!  These seats should serve the children for the rest of the time they need a child safety seat...so switching them out was monumental in our world!

And yes, some days, we have to do some strategic planning...who needs to be delivered where - and when - and where we will all sit. Right now, our Chevy Tahoe has ample seating for us, Grandma E, and the three children - with a little room to spare.  And thankfully, Grandma E is able to pull herself up into vehicle...something my Mam-ma Polly was always able to do, also.  Otherwise, we would have had another adjustment to make!

I share all of this to say that getting everyone safely from Point A to Point B can be a challenge.  And getting your seniors to stop driving when it's time may be one of the biggest issues you will face in managing their care.  There is a lot to consider as you make this change.  I know people in their 90s who are still driving and doing a fairly good job of it...and I know people in their 70s (like my maternal grandparents) who were already past the time when they could safely maneuver a motor vehicle.  

Each person and situation is different. I know more than one caregiver or guardian who has hidden his/her parent's car keys. I know children who have called the local police and BEGGED them to "make Mom or Dad quit driving"  - and they cannot do this.  Unless your loved one is involved in an accident or fails a driving test, the police are powerless to say, "You have to stop driving" just because this person is advanced in age.  In fact, the police chief in our town called a friend of mine and said, "You need to get your mother to stop driving."  But HE (the police chief) was legally unable to do anything to dissuade her.

You must be prepared for what happens after the car is gone.  My mother-in-law and Mam-ma Polly were both in the habit of running to the store for just one or two items.  So when they needed Jello...or ran out of salt...they hoped in their car and drove to Walmart or a nearby grocery store and got these things.  If they got a hankering for a hamburger at 5:00 p.m., they got in their car and drove to Sonic®, Burger King® or McDonalds® and ordered whatever they pleased.  Your senior will have a major period of adjustment as he/she realizes that the vehicle really is no longer available for these spontaneous trips.

You must also be prepared to do more shuttles, and some serious scheduling may have to take place.  When I was driving my grandmother, it worked best for me to do all of her errands on one day (as much as possible). For us, this was Friday afternoon.  I took her to the beauty shop, and while she was there, I went to the pharmacy and got her medicine and handled any other errands she had on the list.  Most of the time, she gave me her grocery list, and I bought the items while she got her hair done. Then when we got home, I unloaded everything for her and helped her put it away. 

Schedules are good, but there will be unexpected doctor appointments, times that your loved one wants to visit a friend or attend a party or other function, and more.  I could not persuade my grandmother to ride the church bus that would have gladly picked her up and delivered her back to her home.  She said she didn't want to wait - or to be the last one returned home.  Well, somebody has to be first and last!  Thankfully, a fellow church member lived nearby and picked her up most days - and sometimes my mother and her husband were in town and were able to take Mam-ma to church.  But my point is that there will be some necessary schedule adjustments for your loved one - AND for YOU!

The other thing you have to figure out is what to do with the car. Sometimes this works out fairly easily...and other times, it's a real bone of contention.  People are attached to their vehicles...and worries that they won't bring a decent price can be a concern for an elderly person, in particular. Some will want to keep the car in the carport or garage with the promise that "I won't drive it."  That is probably not a good idea...and that promise will end up being broken in an "emergency."  I know people who are in an Assisted Living Facility and have a car sitting in the parking lot, just because it makes them feel good to know it's there!  I also know one person whose children disconnected the spark plug, just in case he tried to take off in said vehicle!  My best advice is to figure out a way to get rid of the car - even if you have to be pretty creative in doing so. Remove any and all temptation  - and possibility - for the senior to drive.

In her book, When Heads and Hearts Collide, my mother talks about a conversation she had with my grandmother, in which Grandmother told Mother, "I don't want you to be my Mother!"  Believe me, that was not a role Mother relished.  But just as our parents told us when we could begin to drive - and were most likely heavily involved in helping us acquire our first car - or maybe YOU have done this for your own teenagers...many of us will come to a point where we have to "parent" our parents or grandparents - and help them make some life-changing decisions about driving.

At the end of the day, the goal is to keep our loved ones - and all others on the roadways - safe from an injury...or worse.  There may be some heated discussions and a few tense moments in the journey, but this is generally a necessary challenge that must be addressed.  A fender-bender and dealing with insurance agents, injured parties and more can be a frustrating experience...but a more serious accident could be life-changing.  The question of who is driving the car is an important one to answer...and worth any hassle and heartache on the front end.

Who Is In Your "Sandwich?"

A childhood friend and I have been corresponding via text and e-mail for more than year now, and our conversations have involved several twists and turns.  But they keep circling back to what he refers to as "the elders" - namely, a handful of senior citizen family members that he attends to as time and needs arise. Indeed, we are at "that age" where there is no shortage of "elderly folks" who need our attention.  

Grandma E and her son (my husband, Greg)

My parents and grandparents are longer living...but my mother-in-law is still with us.  We are blessed that she is able to live alone in her own home, even 8 months past her 90th birthday.  She no longer drives, but unlike many children of seniors who have stopped driving, there are few requests for a ride anywhere.  My husband (her youngest son) takes her wherever she wants to go...which generally consists of a semi-weekly trip to the hairdresser and the grocery store - and maybe to church on Sunday.

My great-nephew, Timothy, with my Mam-ma Polly and
my mother-in-law, who the children call "Grandma E."

Even though I am not directly involved in the daily care of an "elder" at this point, many of my friends and loved ones are.  I listen as they voice their concerns and frustrations.  I hear their tales of parents who are stubborn and refuse to admit that they need in-home care - or to allow the caregivers to assist them with personal care, such as bathing.  I understand completely when worries about falls, mixed medications, and failing memories are voiced. I totally GET IT!

Just like countless others, I've "been there, done that."  And my mantra is, "You are not alone."  I know that eldercare can be incredibly lonely...and if you are caught in the middle of a "sandwich" that includes children AND seniors - well, your world is likely something of a circus on any given day!  This doesn't even allow for the fact that you may be juggling a job, a marriage, civic and church responsibilities, and more.  You may be dealing with your own health concerns.  It's enough to make anyone run screaming into the night!

This is partly why I started "The Deli" blog when my paternal grandmother was still living and in my guardianship.  I wanted this to be a place where I could "vent" and share my frustrations.  More importantly, I wanted this blog to be a venue where others could read about our experiences - and Mam-ma's antics - and see that "Hey!  I'm not the only one in this boat!  My parents/grandparents do a lot of the same things and have many of the same issues!"  I wanted those who are juggling several "balls" at once to see that we CAN survive these years...and even remember them with a bit of fondness - not in what was happening, but rather, that we did a decent job of surviving!

I have toyed with the idea of turning this blog into a book...and I may still do so at some point.  It would be great to be able to hand my friends and others a book that chronicles my journey and say, "Here...this might help you."

Meanwhile...a similar book does exist.  My late mother wrote a book about HER experience with my maternal grandparents, who both spent their last days in a nursing home.  Neither one of them wanted to be there, of course. NONE of us wanted this.  But sadly, this is sometimes the only alternative.  And Mother's book has helped countless people cope with this decision and the resulting experiences.

If you would like to order a copy of When Heads and Hearts Collide, I have plenty and would be glad to send you one.  I am asking the minimal price of $10 postage paid...and you can order via PayPal by clicking this link or the one on the sidebar.

What's in a Haircut? A Reality Check...

When Timothy was about a year old, I took him for his first haircut. As the barber trimmed his curls and gave him a "big boy" shape, I watched our baby disappear before my eyes - and a toddler appeared in his place.  I used to take my grandmother for her weekly visits to the hairdresser, and I laughed at the contrast - the "straight-across-the-forehead" bangs of a one-year old vs. the softly teased white curls of someone in their late 90s.

But an experience last week was a total "first" for me...one that I did not expect.  I drove my mother to the beauty shop for a haircut to trim her hair to a one-inch length all over. This was in anticipation that any day, she would lose her hair completely as a result of chemo.  The trepidation felt by both our then-one-year-old Timothy and my 76-year-old mother was palpable...obviously, for very different reasons.  One did not understand what the man was doing to his hair...the other was probably asking herself, "How did this happen to me?"

I thought Mother's new haircut looked cute. We took "before and after" photos, and the hairdresser and I teased that she should use some gel and spike it up and "go wild!"  Mom barely laughed and said she would NOT be doing that!  A day or so later, she returned to the hairdresser with a wig that she had purchased but was not totally convinced she liked...and the hairdresser cut and styled it for her. 

Mom posted a picture of her new "do" on Facebook, and many commented how beautiful she looked - and how nice her hair was.  I think that was the only day she actually wore the wig.  She said since she mostly just lies around the house, there was no sense in putting it on for that.

Yesterday morning, I received an e-mail from my mom saying that her hair was coming out in clumps...and that her hairdresser would buzz her head for her - but not until the next day.  The hairdresser was busy and could not work this yesterday.  I "buzz" Greg's head every week.  We have clippers, and I know how to use them.  So I offered to come and buzz my mother's head.  She responded almost immediately and said yes...this would be a great help to her.

So I gathered the clippers and a bed sheet and drove to my mother's house.  We "set up shop" on her sun porch, and I clipped her already-short hair down to a fine "fuzz" all over her head.  She's not slick-bald yet...but she probably will be soon.  Once we were finished, Mother got up and tied on her little cotton turban.  "Aren't you going to look in the mirror?" I asked.  "No!" she emphatically responded.  And several hours later, she told my sister that she still had not looked at herself in the mirror.

I didn't think Mom looked that bad without her hair.  I don't know what I expected...and maybe it's because I do buzz my husband's head every week with the clippers. I am used to that "look".  But I did have the sense as it was happening, "What am I doing?"  And then I remembered...Mom's hair is falling out in clumps anyway.

We are only one treatment into this journey, and so far, my mother has pretty much had one "normal" day in the last three weeks where she felt "good" all day long.  And she made the most of it, with a trip out for lunch and to the Dollar Tree. She stuffed Halloween treat bags for the children.  She worked on her blog posts and answered e-mail.  Many days, she has been able to do small tasks for a few hours...but ultimately, she has ended up back in bed - or on her couch...drained...spent...totally exhausted.  

We are told that the treatments have a cumulative effect.  We're also told that some people start to feel "normal" just in time for the next treatment.  It's so early that we still don't really know what to expect.  This Thursday, Mom will get her "port"...and then she will have a 3-hour chemo treatment, as well as blood work and a visit with her oncologist.  Maybe we will know more about what lies ahead after all of that.

Mom's surgeon explained to her that her chemotherapy drugs attack cells that are dividing...and cancer cells divide.  So do the cells that make up hair follicles...hence, the hair loss.  It's daunting to think that the poison that can kill cancer cells - and cause you to lose your hair - could also be healing you at the same time. 

I told Timothy that his hair would grow back...and it has, over and over again.  We've made numerous trips to the barber shop...and in recent months, Timothy's Granny (my mother) had taken on that task.  Hopefully, in time, HER hair will grow back...and maybe they can once again make these trips together.  For now, we'll all step in to do what must be done and pray that the drugs are working...and that we are headed in the right direction.  After all, it IS just hair...right?

This Sandwich Has a New Slice of "Bread"

My mother...Arline Chandler Smith

Life has a strange way of taking turns you never expected.  When my 76-year-old mother began to complain of pain and soreness in her abdomen last February, I thought little of it...particularly given that her long-time internist in Little Rock did not even examine her when she mentioned it to him.  In fact, he brushed it off and said, "You're not telling me anything that raises concern."  But the pain and discomfort continued through the summer.  And a few months after Mother's internist told her that this was nothing to worry about, he was arrested and charged with running a prescription painkiller ring from his office.  He now faces federal charges, as well.

So Mother found herself without a doctor, and after praying about what to do, she opted to start seeing a nurse practitioner at a local clinic.  Her thinking was that this person could at least refer her to specialists who drove the 65 miles from Little Rock to practice in the outpatient clinic at our local hospital.  Mother mentioned the pain to her NP, who suggested maybe she needed to see a surgeon for an endoscopy.  This was in August...the first available appointment for a consult was November 12th.

Greg pushes Zola in a swing installed in the
backyard at Mother and Lee's house. Behind
them is the platform for the new playhouse.

Meanwhile, Mother was going about her busy schedule pretty much as usual.  She and her husband, Lee, traveled to Tennessee in July for a family reunion.  She tended to Lee as he saw doctors about health scare that some thought might require surgery.  Thankfully, Lee is healthier and stronger at 77 than many men in their 30s, so he is in "watch-and-wait" mode with his health issue.  He put a new roof on their house last spring, and after getting his "good" diagnosis this summer, he set in to build a play house in their back yard for my great-niece and nephews...Zola, Timothy and Nathan.  Lee and Mother had installed a new wood fence around the yard a couple of summers ago, and he saved the fence boards.  They are now being repurposed into a playhouse - complete with front porch, pitched roof, and windows!

Mom offered to keep our 3-year-old great-nephew on Fridays while my niece and her husband work.  The other two children are in school, but a place was needed for Nathan.  Greg and I kept him this summer on Mondays and some Fridays and other weekdays...but Mother wanted to take the "Friday shift."  She enjoyed several visits from Nathan...and my niece, Jasmine would come after work and bring Timothy and Zola and spend an hour or so visiting and letting the children play in the back yard.

All of this changed on September 21st, when Mom awoke with what she thought was a UTI.  We laughed, because she immediately "doctored" herself with Cipro, an antibiotic that she had purchased at the "pharmacia" in Mexico while she and Lee wintered in Arizona.  In fact, she messaged me before noon and said, "I'm much better already, and I feel silly to go to the clinic.  But I guess I will go ahead and keep my appointment.

At the clinic, my mother saw another Nurse Practitioner.  She mentioned again the pain in her abdomen...and this woman examined her.  "Your stomach is 'hard'," she told Mother.  She ordered a CT scan at the hospital for the next morning and told my mother that she would call in the afternoon with the results.  Before noon, she had phoned to say, "You have a mass in your stomach, and you need to return to the hospital for blood work.  We will probably order a biopsy."

My mother is an avid traveler.  She is a free-lance writer, author of eleven books, and weekly contributor to a website for RVers - RVLife.com - where she maintains a blog about her travels with Lee in their 42-foot motorhome.  When Mother received this news, she had a PR trip planned to Branson, Missouri - which is something of her "second home." Businesses and attractions in Branson were hosting writers and media people from across the country for the weekend.  It would be almost 3 days of good food, great shows and entertainment, and topnotch hospitality.  Mom got the blood work done and opted to go to Branson.  She and Lee returned home late Sunday evening.

Monday morning, I got an e-mail from Mother..."I have a serious problem, Debbie. The tests show cancer markers and it’s my ovaries. But there is more than one mass. [The Nurse Practitioner] has blocked off an hour to talk to me—to us—in the morning at 10:00, unless they can do the biopsy tomorrow. She offered to come to my house and talk to us tonight—in fact, she said she felt so heavy about this that she almost called and asked to come last night. I want you and Suzanne [my sister] to go with me to talk to her, as well as Lee. This is going to be OK—no matter what. Just going to be a battle ahead." 

So the following morning, Greg and I met my mother and Lee, and my sister Suzanne, at the clinic.  We all squeezed into a tiny exam room where the Nurse Practitioner came in and introduced herself to each of us, then sat in the floor with her laptop and a folder of test results...and she began to give us the "report."  Mother has multiple masses, ranging in size from 2.5cm to 10cm...and they were all over - near her liver, in the lower quadrants of her pelvis, and floating in her abdomen.  None were thought to be attached to organs.  While the CA125 blood test for ovarian cancer is not reliable - often giving a false negative - Mother's did indicate a positive.  "Normal" range is less than 30...my mother's count was 300.  The nurse kept telling her how sorry she was.

I guess I was in disbelief.  Mother had not seen a doctor.  Perhaps this was all a mistake.  But a biopsy was scheduled for that Thursday morning in Little Rock.  Mother would not let us go with her...Lee drove her down for the procedure.  After the biopsy, she did ask if I would keep Nathan on Friday...she realized that she was too groggy and sore to manage him.  She was scheduled for a consult with the oncologist on the next Thursday.  After Mother and Lee met with the oncologist, they came to our house and met with Greg and me - and Suzanne - and delivered the official report.

The oncologist felt like all indications were that this was ovarian cancer; however, he wanted to examine blood work and get a PET scan to be sure. Those have now been studied, and his best guess is that an ovary ruptured and "spewed cancer cells" throughout my mother's abdomen. The good news is that there is no spread beyond the abdomen - nothing in the chest and beyond.  The oncologist is treating this as Stage 3C Ovarian Cancer...and aggressive chemotherapy was begun on Thursday, October 8th.  

Mother got IV drugs for nausea - and steroids - and then she spent the next three hours receiving  Paclitaxel (conventional) and Carboplatin.  On Friday, she got a shot of Neulasta to boost her immune system - to the tune of $5000.  Thankfully, she is told that her insurance company will cover this.  But she must have Neulasta after each of her chemo treatments, which are scheduled for every 3 weeks.  Her oncologist told her that within 2 weeks of this first treatment, she will begin to lose her hair.

Mother felt GREAT after the treatment...like she could climb a mountain (the steroids).  She didn't sleep much Thursday night, but on Friday, she still was energized...until sometime late afternoon.  She thought maybe it was the Neulasta, but she had a "small sinking spell" while shopping and hurried home.  Saturday she laid around and did not feel well...by Sunday, she had all of the side effects - nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, body aches and pains.  The only thing missing was hair loss...and she is bracing for that.  She feels lousy...is in bed a lot...and her world has been turned upside down.

In the course of less than a month, my mother has gone from planning her next trip to planning a trip to buy a wig when her hair falls out.  In the course of ten days, she has gone from spending a happy Friday with her 3-year-old great-grandson and an hour or so of play with her other two great-grandchildren and their mother to being unable to sit up and answer e-mail at her desk for more than an hour or so before returning to bed.

I will tell you...I feel pretty helpless.  I want to do for her...and there is nothing to do.  She said, "Keeping the children is helping me.  If you will keep Nathan on Fridays, that will be your part."  Somehow, it doesn't feel like enough - and yet, I know that more "opportunities" to "do" will come in the next few weeks and months.  So Friday, I kept Nathan.  Sundays after church, the children come home with us for a few hours, and we did that yesterday.  Today there was no school for Timothy, so both he and Nathan came to my house for the day while their parents worked. I take the two oldest children to Taekwondo lessons on Mondays and Tuesdays...so tomorrow, we will go to our class.  Mother keeps e-mailing me and thanking me for doing these things for the children.

Timothy rides his tricycle on Mother's carport.  They recently
bought the kids this tricycle - complete with bell and tassles!

I am still trying to process all of this in my own head.  The children do not know about my mother, other than that Granny did not feel well Friday, so Nathan came here.  At six years old, Timothy is incredibly sensitive about old age and death.  He thinks that anyone who gets sick - or old - "will die like Mam-ma Polly."  He remembers her death...and paired with the deaths of two beloved family pets who were old and sick, he has formulated the idea that when you are sick or get old, you die!  And this worries him.  When Mother starts to lose her hair, the children will have to be told something...but we have a few days until then.  And her doctor has told her that she is to avoid sick people and small children...so her contact with them will have to be limited anyway.

Nathan sits at our kitchen counter
during one of his Friday visits.

So my days are once again filled with children and their activities...and caring for a loved one at the other end of the age continuum - as much as she will allow!  I really anticipated caring for my mother when she was 90...not 76.  And I'm really not sure what to do with all of this information just yet.  I am trusting God to take me by the hand and lead me, because I feel like we're all somewhat fumbling in the dark at this point.  I know that He is more than able...and that He has my mother - and all of us - in the palm of His hand.

For now, I commiserate when Mother sends an e-mail to tell me she is going back to bed...and I color another picture with Timothy and play "superheroes" with Nathan or read a story to Zola.  It's doesn't seem like enough...but somehow, for now...it is.

Just Because the "Bread" Changes Doesn't Mean It's Not Still a Sandwich!

"Hey, Grandma E!  Grandma E!" Timothy persisted, as we drove to Burger King after church last Sunday.  "Grandma E" is the name Timothy gave to Greg's mother when he was first learning to talk...and it stuck.  My mother-in-law finally acknowledged Timothy's attempts to get her attention..."Okay, what, Timmy?"  "Grandma E," he continued..."I like your pretty jacket...and I love you."  You could have heard a pin drop in the car.  Grandma E replied, "I love you, too."

I realize that it has been awhile since my last post, but that doesn't mean we have not been busy!  All three children are now in school...Timothy just "graduated" from pre-K and will begin kindergarten this fall.  Zola and Nathan are in a program for toddlers and pre-schoolers who need an extra boost in certain areas, such as speech, gross and fine motor skills.  So we are not seeing much of the children except for weekends when we take the older two with us to church most Sundays.

Greg spends several hours a week with "Grandma E"...they have lunch together most Mondays after he delivers "Meals on Wheels"...he keeps her yard mowed, shrubbery trimmed and gutters cleaned...and he goes over whenever she needs help with things like her TV remote, a computer glitch - or a phone bill she doesn't understand.  He has offered to handle errands for her, but so far, she prefers to make a few trips herself - although she is getting out less frequently as the weeks progress.  The end of June, "Grandma E" will be 88 years young.  She still lives alone in her own home and manages pretty well - for now.

In recent months, the optometrist has detected a change in "Grandma E's" eye pressure...a signal that her glaucoma (which has been treated with daily eye drops for several years) is progressing.  After several "field tests" over a few months showed a significant change, the doctor thought a laser procedure was in order.  It doesn't cure the glaucoma, but hopefully it will relieve some pressure and preserve her vision for a while longer.

So last week, we traveled to Little Rock for the laser "surgery"...which took all of 30 seconds to complete.  Ninety "zaps" in all, and we were headed home...with a brief stop along the way for lunch and a little shopping.
 
Last weekend, Greg and I had dinner with a couple who have been friends of ours since childhood.  They were asking us about "Grandma E", and I told them that she is really involved in dog sitting these days. She has about a dozen "clients", and she absolutely LOVES them.  She also loves the income.  And we are good with that - it gives her purpose and company...and she seems very happy.
 

"Grandma E" with her boys. 
Greg is seated 2nd from the left.

"Grandma E" is a product of the Depression, and she is incredibly frugal, for the most part.  She won't say what she "charges" for dog-sitting, unless a client asks, and then she says "$10 a day." The owners almost never pay that little.  So "Grandma E" always has plenty of cash and gift certificates, candy, etc., that people bring her from their trips while she dog sits. 

A few weeks ago, "Grandma E" hurt her back again...not as badly as when she had to go to the hospital a couple of years ago, but we were watching her closely.  She could hardly get off the couch without severe pain.  Greg went over a couple of times to help her with a dog she had scheduled for a visit and would not cancel.  Meanwhile, the county election commission chairman sent "Grandma E" a letter saying that this year, ALL workers at the polls had to come for a mandatory training meeting at a certain time - or they could not work this year's elections.  "Grandma E" LOVES to work those elections... plus she gets paid for doing it.  She will tell you she loves getting paid to visit with old friends and work that election... it's like "found money!" 

Greg's mother was not able to sit up long enough to go for several hours of training.  He tried to get her to let the Commissioner know that she could not work this year...but she wouldn't hear of it.  We were over at her house on a Sunday, and she said, "The training is not until Monday... I will be alright."  Now, I'm thinking, "Okay...that must be the NEXT Monday."  I asked, "You mean, Monday as in NEXT week?"  "No, Monday - TOMORROW!"  Well, Greg realized that this would not work!  But, they decided that there were 3 days of training, and maybe she could go on Wednesday?  Neither one of us thought she would be able even by Wednesday...plus, she had dogs coming for the day!  "Oh, YES!"  she insisted. She would be able to go to that training!  So Greg went over and sat with the dogs...and his mother DID go to the training...AND she worked the election and had a ball!

Monday, my friend e-mailed me and asked how "Grandma E's" laser procedure had gone on her eye, and I told her it went great - that we were in and out in less than 45 minutes, and that included a 30-second laser treatment!  She replied, "Good...because we want her well enough to work the elections!" 

I responded and told  her that we stopped for lunch on the way home, and my mother-in-law was talking about how she was getting a dog that night for one night, then another dog Tuesday (I think) for several days.  Her "regular" neighbor dog (Theo) was to come on Wednesday for the day, and a friend called and needed her to keep a border collie while they traveled out of town for a funeral.  So on Wednesday, she would have an overlap that meant THREE dogs at once...tiny, medium-sized, and big!  She said she had already been worrying a little about how she would handle all of that.  Greg said, "Why don't you call the neighbors and suggest that their dog not come this week?"  She shot back, "Oh, NO!  I am just going to leave it alone...I will manage somehow!" 

We just laughed...at the clinic she handed me her purse and said, "Watch that...it has my 'dog money' in it."  I told Greg her "dog money" is probably as much as the war debt!
 
So these days, the "layers" in our "sandwich" have changed...but we still feel that we are the "chicken salad" (or is it the "bologna"?!) in the center!  Our focus with the children has shifted from one of a frequent "caregiver" to more of a sideline support.  Timothy will start swimming lessons this month, so I will be taking him to our Community Center three days a week for his these appointments.  He is now five...Zola is now three, so they are growing up!  Nathan will be two in August.  We will turn around and they will be graduating from high school!  The little ones will have a school break in July, and we hope to spend some extra time with them then.

My mom and me on Mother's Day 2014

My mother continues to have the travel bug.  At 75, she is spending her summer in West Yellowstone, Montana, where she and her husband, Lee, are working in a high-end gift store at the entrance to Yellowstone National Park.  For this they are paid a wage and  provided with a full hookup campsite for their motorhome.  On their days off, they venture into the Park to sight-see and take copious photographs.  Mother's philosophy is that she plans to travel as much as possible...for as long as possible.  Since September 2013, she and Lee have Workamped in Kentucky, wintered in Arizona, and now are spending their summer in Montana!

Honestly, our mothers DO worry us sometimes with their choices and "interests".  We can't help but be concerned about all of the cross-country travel my mom and her husband engage in...particularly given the handful of "incidents" with their motorhome and traffic that Mom voluntarily "shares".  We know that there is an inherent risk that one of the many little dogs for whom "Grandma E" sits can get under her feet and cause her to fall and break something or otherwise injure herself.  Neither of these "activities" is our "thing"...but they probably don't understand our penchant for being "professional homebodies" either!

When "Grandma E" described trying to remove a tick from the back of her leg with tweezers and a needle, we did remind her that Mam-ma Polly fell while trying to remove a tick from the back of HER leg.  She landed on her shower threshold and received a nasty, deep hip bruise that resulted in a nearly-3-month stay in the nursing home for rehab!  There are times when we can see that an activity or choice is ripe with possibilities for harm, and we feel obligated to point out the potential pitfalls.

But at the end of the day, we also learned a LOT in caring for Mam-ma Polly...and one of the biggest lessons is to let them "be" - as much as possible.  Allow them to be independent and active...and to do what makes them happy for as long as they can.  Soon enough, their bodies, or their minds - or both - will betray them.  If we are all lucky, they will enjoy good health and a fairly sound mental capacity for years to come yet.

Yesterday, family and friends gathered to memorialize the 42-year-old husband of a young friend of mine.  He valiantly battled brain cancer for 2 years, but in the end, he "beat the beast" in heaven rather than on this earth.  His wife and 4 boys - ages 8, 6, and 7-month-old twins - are left to carry on without him.  At the same time, my mother's best friend went to a meeting yesterday morning and returned home to find her husband had fallen back onto their bed and died.  He was in his early 80s.  We are none of us promised another day.

So we make the best of our "Sandwich".  We relish the growth and accomplishments of our little ones and nurture them as they learn new things...and we celebrate the activities and relative good health that our mothers continue to enjoy.  Some days are better than others...but in total, it's all good for now.  I hope you can say the same.

New Day - New "Sandwich"...What's in Yours?

As I write this post, I am sitting in the parking lot of an "eye clinic" in a nearby city.  Greg is inside with his mother, aka "Grandma E", who is having another "field test" for her glaucoma.  This is the third such test since October, when the doctor saw something she did not like.  She hoped it was a fluke, so Greg returned his mother in November for a second test, but the results were still not where the doctor hoped they would be.  Testing in December was delayed twice by icy weather... so here we are today.  Hopefully the results will be satisfactory and no additional treatment or testing will be necessary for awhile. (Added note...all seems well for now.)

 

I realize it has been a couple of months since my last post.  The "holiday months" were quite busy for all of us. Greg and I celebrated Thanksgiving quietly with Grandma E...she joined us for a lunch that I prepared.  My mother and her husband were away in Kentucky on a Workamping assignment, and the "kids" opted to have their own Thanksgiving dinner.  So I cooked a turkey dinner for three...and then we watched the original version of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty!

With just a few weeks before Christmas, I got busy the following day turning our house from a warm den of autumn coziness into a festive celebration of Christmas.  Thanks to Greg's help and "brute strength" in carrying all of the boxes down from the attic and assembling the big Christmas tree, I had everything decorated in a record two days!  Then it was on to baking and sewing...cookies, holiday breads, and pajamas, doll clothes and more.

In between, we endured a major ice storm that virtually shut down the town for about three days or more.  This put a halt to scheduled activities like the children's Christmas program at church, the Christmas parade, and many other events that had to be rescheduled.

I took the children to church two different afternoons to practice for their program.  As preschoolers, their role was to dress as angels and "ring bells". Assembling more than a dozen 2-to-5-year-olds...each holding two bells...is something akin to herding cats.  But the veteran conductor patiently persevered, and by the end of the second rehearsal, the children had pretty well figured out what to do and when to ring - and when not to ring!  And the adults had learned that it really didn't matter what happened... it was all going to be cute. When we would talk about the children's program, Timothy would say, "Everyone will be so PROUD of me!"  And we were!

At one of the rehearsals for the children's program, we gathered in the sanctuary. Since our children attend their Sunday school class while we attend worship in the sanctuary, they had never seen this room before.  Now it was fully decorated...massively tall tree filled with Chrismon decorations...poinsettias lining the choir loft railing...almost life-sized creche and angels in the foyer.

Timmy was in total awe. He kept pointing to the stained glass window over our choir loft that depicts a dove and the cross and saying, "Hey!  Look at that pigeon diving into the water!"  Even after I explained that it was a dove, he still called it a pigeon!  I explained to Timmy that this was where Uncle Greg and Grandma E and I come while he and Zola are in Sunday school.  He was impressed... but he still thinks there is a picture of a pigeon diving into the water over the choir loft!

The program was rescheduled, and the children stepped up to the plate and performed well.  Everyone enjoyed the production.

A few days later, the Christmas parade was held...having been rescheduled because of the ice storm.  I don't know who had more fun...the little ones or Grandma E.  The parade lasted about 45 minutes... and there was never a lull.  Our local courtsquare was fully lit and sparkled and glistened with brightly colored lighted trees, a nativity scene, a gingerbread house, and more. The two-storied courthouse glistened with lights outlining every window, wall and roof...and the children AND Grandma reacted as if they were walking through a fairyland.

Timothy had told us, "We won't see the real Santa. I don't think we will see the real Santa.  And we sure won't see Mrs. Santa."  A float came along with Santa - two of them - one on either side.  Clearly that was not the "real" Santa.  But THEN... a car came along with Santa... and MRS. Santa!  Timothy was so excited.

After the parade, we opted not to wait on the courthouse lawn to see Santa Claus and sit on his lap.  We headed up the sidewalk through an archway of lighted trees that Timothy had declared to be "magic" and we came face-to-face with Santa.  He walked up to Greg and Timothy and stuck out his hand and said, "Hello!  Merry Christmas!"  Timothy didn't miss a beat.  He said, "Merry Christmas, Santa!"

Then Santa came to Zola, Grandma E and me.  We had been told that Zola was scared to death of Santa, but he knelt and stuck out his hand and said, "Merry Christmas!" and she just grinned and giggled and said something we could not understand.

Timothy talked all the way home about seeing the REAL Santa and seeing MRS. Santa.  He loved the parade except for one thing... there was no Grinch.  He is hoping for a Grinch in the parade next year!

On Christmas Day, everyone gathered at our house for a big dinner and presents and stockings under the tree.  The children were so excited... Santa Claus had come to their house overnight, and now, they were getting to see not only their grandparents (my sister and her husband), but us, Grandma E, and my mother and her husband - just back from a nearly-four-month stay in Kentucky.  To say it was loud and crazy would be an understatement.  But it was also tremendous fun!

 

My point in sharing all of this with you is to make several observations:

• During the holidays, I found myself doing MANY of the things that my Mam-ma Polly did when I was younger...baking, sewing, filling the Christmas stockings for Santa, preparing the holiday meals, and more...and I thought of her...a LOT! 
• I also found myself juggling trips to take the children to rehearsals, attending Timothy's pre-K Christmas program, visiting Mam-ma's friends (and mine) at the Assisted Living Facility, and reaching out to people from multiple generations during the holidays.
• Most notably, I realized that Greg and I still are very much a part of the "Sandwich Generation" as his 87-year-old mother has assumed the senior role...and the three little ones still keep us hopping on the other end of the spectrum! These children could not love Grandma E more if she were their own flesh and blood.  The two oldest ones almost cry on Sunday if she doesn't go with us to church and out to lunch afterward.  And I'm noticing that she is always thinking about something to do for them...some little toy or trinket to give them.  It's a great relationship for everyone.

Grandma E's antics are not as entertaining - much less, challenging - as Mam-ma's grew.  Mainly, she is forgetful... and stubborn (like going to retrieve her paper in the ice after Greg expressly told her NOT to go outside)...and she would rather stay home and babysit a dog than do just about anything else in the world.  She is truly remarkable for a woman well on her way to age 88, and we hope she still has many good years of living alone in her own home and doing as she pleases ahead of her.

The best three words in the world from the kiddos are "I love you."  Timmy freely tells Greg, Grandma E and me that he loves us.  In fact, on the way home from lunch one Sunday, Timothy blurted out... "Grandma E... I love you!"  Melts the heart!  He also tells Grandma E nearly EVERY Sunday after lunch, "Thank you for paying for lunch, Grandma E!"

Our little ones are learning valuable lessons about life and relationships from the time they spend with my mother-in-law...and she gets just the right dose of being a great-grandmother in return!

In recent months, I've been asked more than once..."Now that Polly is gone, what do you do with all of your spare time?"  Clearly, that "gap" has filled in rather nicely.  Each "Sandwich" is different...but from the looks of things, we'll still be part of The Deli for several years yet!  I look around at others who are smack dab in the middle of their own "Sandwich", and I marvel at how some of them manage to "keep all the balls in the air".  For others, I offer three words of advice..."Hang in there."  We are not alone...this subset of the population grows by leaps and bounds every single day.  If you are not presently a member of the "Sandwich Generation", you very well could be next week or next year!

 

Knowledge is power, and for that reason, I am continuing this blog.  Please share your stories...your insights...what works for you - and what doesn't.  Ask questions, seek support...and know that there are people who can help.  Someone asked me last week, "What's next for you?  What are you looking forward to this year?"  I honestly do not have an answer... but I certainly know that life will be anything but dull.  What about you?