We talk a good bit about the emotional things in caregiving. I wanted to say a little about the physical things. I'm 60 years old and strong enough for my age, but my physique is often pushed to the limit. In the good ole days, grocery shopping was a family affair, with everyone helping to bring things in. Now there is just me. Carrying all those heavy things up the steps is hard! I try to make several trips during the week, so it's not so much at one time. But still it's heavy.
And then there's the wheelchair. That thing is heavy. And we have a mountain of garbage and recycling each week. I swear I must live with pigs or something. Sometimes I feel like stopping and braying, because I feel like a mule. My hands always look awful, with broken fingernails, scuffs, and cuts. I have bruises here and there. And forget about polishing my nails! That would only last a few hours.
Since I've moved here, I have become everything. Cook, maid, shopper, chauffeur, handywoman, and clutter organizer. I drew a line when my mother mentioned mowing the grass. I don't do that. I just do all the other yard work.
I often wonder wouldn't it have been easier on everyone if they had moved into a senior apartment. This is lighthearted, so doesn't need support. I get physically tired doing all the lifting and pulling around here. And I am tired of seeing my hands looking like I just plowed the lower forty.
But, once in a while when I get a few minutes of alone time I do what I can for them. I found that using an acrylic top coat (two coats) helps keep the stuff on the nails longer. Also, make sure there is no oil on the nails before you start. Use a base coat, good polish and two coats of top coat (acrylic). Mine will last a week and sometimes more. (not in summer when I am playing in the yard/garden though. I don't fool with them very often and after picking up a nail fungus at the salon - I NEVER go there. I will just leave them alone first. I sure hope someone tells you 'thank you' once in a while for all your efforts.
Bray a little now and then.
Wear rubber gloves when doing most chores. It is amazing how much it helps when I remember to do that!
After putting the wheelchair into and out of my sedan 5 times in one day and suffering a backache for a week after, I've ordered a lighter more compact transport chair that I hope will be suitable for most trips to doctors, etc. You are right, a wheelchair is heavy. When hubby can help even a little I'm OK with it, but when he is too weak (as was the case when we had so many medical appointments in the same day) it is too big a risk for me.
That mule has a lot of years ahead of it. Don't do anything to risk a healthy future!
I bought a bottle of base coat. Boy, does it ever smell awful. I don't like to get my hands anywhere near my face until it out-gasses almost completely.
I guess that anyone reading will wonder what all this has to do with caregiving. It is important to me to do little things that put me back in the real world. I guess I don't feel as much like a mule if I do little things like paint my nails or buy the occasional red sweater. Little things make a world of difference in how we feel about ourselves.
I dream of getting a good bath. I have always bathed instead of showered. A few years ago, though, my mother took out the tub and put in a walk-in shower. So we have no tub in the house. Now for some whining - they have one of those water saver hand-held things for the shower head. I can't get any pressure from it. It feels like I'm rinsing with one of the little attachments that people have on their kitchen faucets. I've thought about going to a hotel just to crawl in a hot bath and to lie down on a big bed. It can feel a bit like being in survival mode here, but I know many people have it a lot worse.
Sometimes I wonder how my parents ever came to live this way. They aren't poor, but they never tried to make things better. The house hasn't been painted for 35 years inside. Many areas are impassible because of the clutter and all the furniture. It is impossible to clean. Everyone sleeps in little beds. There's no bathtub. It is like minimal subsistence. I am still not used to living like this.
Hee HAWWWW! I feel better now.