Rebuilding Rob

Mother is not well.

Her health is declining. It has been for some time. But the last 3 months in particular have been rough.

Back in September, on the same weekend that Kid 1 was in town to tour the University of Michigan campus, Mother’s heart rate took off. It didn’t go down for well over an hour. Since then, she has bounced back and forth between hospitals and short-stay rehab centers. We did get her set up at a senior living community, but that lasted 1 week before she was in the hospital again.

She’s back her in senior living, but we’ve learned that Mother will probably be best served ina nursing home.

Earlier today, I was writing another post about my dad. And it got me thinking about how quickly things went from the time that he was diagnosed with cancer, it’s spreading in him ultimately passing. It was a grand total of four months. I mean for all I know, he could’ve had cancer for a while before that. But I think somewhere it would’ve been picked up at a doctors checkup.

My point being that as shocking and as traumatic as those four months were for me and the rest of my immediate family, I feel like The Old Man was able to “burn out” as opposed to “fading away”. I wonder sometimes if that’s a better way to die. Just giving everything you have until one day you have nothing left. Watching what Mom is going through right now, I feel like we’re just losing our piece by piece. She is, fading away, to extend the metaphor. 

Dementia is like a flickering light bulb. The bulb itself is not necessarily a lost cause. Usually there’s a short somewhere. Maybe one of the wires within it. Maybe one of the electrical light wires within the socket. Some days you get a constant flicker. Some days you get a soft, steady glow. Some days you get nothing but darkness. That’s how dementia seems to be going so far for my mother. Some days are just better than others. Then there are moments where we just jump from lucidity to forgetfulness at the drop of a hat.

Then there’s her anxiety. She’s quite honestly the most anxious person I’ve ever known. And she absolutely refuses to get any help for it. I reminded her that I, my brother, my sister, both my sons, and my nephew are all either currently taking or have taken anxiety medicine in the past. I know there is a traumatic experience from when she was younger, that she never seemed to have gotten help for. Or at least, she never really came to terms with it fully.

I need to do more research to find out if I’m treated anxiety can ultimately lead to full on paranoia; or if paranoia is an offshoot of dementia. In any event, all of this is intertwined. and all this is to say nothing about her laundry list of other health issues that many people in their late 70s have amassed.

All I know is watching her go through this and try to be there for both physically and emotionally – while balancing a family, a career, and a budding relationship is extremely taxing.

Thanks for stopping by Rebuilding Rob. Be sure to like, comment and subscribe to my blog below. It’s greatly appreciated! Also, feel free to follow me on social media as well! Check out my most recent posts as well as some earlier, related posts:

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• A Death in the Family (And My Disposable Income): My Life in Comics
• The Supporting Cast: Navigating the Eras of Male Friendship
• Life is What Happens: A Look Back at My Non-Existent 2025 Vision
• The Moment I Walked Inside a Hallmark Movie

The article “Observations on the Twilight Years“ first appeared on Rebuilding Rob.