Sorry, didn't mean to take up so much front page space. Please to move some inside, if deemed necessary. I don't post here enuff to know the protocols.

I really mean that about rock'n'roll, though.

Listening to Nada Surf and The Weakerthans and Drive-By Truckers really helps.

Oh shit, did I just lose indie cred with jonmc by mentioning Nada Surf? ;P

(Thanks for fixing my awkward post, too.)

Fuck man. That is so bad.

Big hugs. Write me if you want to talk.

No prob BOP.

*hugs*

One of the hardest things to witness is that of a parent struggling with health. It's not fair. Who is this person I could always look up to and rely on? Why are they needing my help? Why can't they fix it?

If you need to rant just rant. Do whatever little things you need to help you make it through.

((((BitterOldPunk))))

Yeah, I agree with gomichild, feel free to rant, I'll raise my fist with ya.

But still (((BitterOldPunk)))

Super {{{{hugs}}}}

Hang in there BitterOldPunk. What you do is totally out of love. My father was a brilliant scientist, part of the brain drain of europe after WWII, and now there are times when he's totally confused. It's hard to see that, and I try to deal with it, but I can't help but think "GODDAMMIT YOU ARE THE FUCKING ADULT, SO WHY DO I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR ASS?" Of course I love my dad, and I'm glad to help however I can, but I feel your frustration. It's hard to be the adult sometimes. I know I have a hard time handling it...

And damn you for making me post here!

I can't imagine the strain of this on you, BOP, but please know that we are here for you whenever you need to let off steam.

Hey, man. I totally feel your pain. Lost my dad last year to the big C. Luckily, he was lucid up to the end. I don't know what we'd have done if he had been mentally altered like that.

I know you're going to laugh at me, but have you tried exercise or yoga? I know you probably don't have much of a chance to be alone, but long walks, a vigourous bike ride, something like that... I find it better than meditation. Get that adrenaline going and it'll clear your head.

Short of that, I have some music you might like. I'm a huge DBT fan.

I work with older adults. I've seen the slow decline of once-sharp minds, seen the strain on their families as adulthood and memory fade into the distance. You'd be surprised (or maybe you wouldn't) at the number of children who can't or won't deal with the facts of their parent's situation.

As a worker in the field, I salute your hanging in and doing what you can. Be assured that in what ever capacity she can, your mother appreciates what you're doing.

Please look into respite care, through your county or state health department. It's OK to take a day off every now and again; there are trained healthcare pros ready to step in and take care of Mom while you recharge your batteries.

I don't know what I can do to help you from up here in Seattle, but my email is in my profile if you think of something. I can always send music, at least.

*hugs*

seconded on the respite care. And please email me if you'd like to chat.

(((Bitter Old Punk)))

Thirding the respite care. Take a day off, sleep, chill.

Oh, BOP, that sucks so hugely. I second what bmarkey said about respite care--if you won't do it for yourself, do it because it'll make you better able to handle what she needs. Good for you for being there through this, and there's certainly no shame in admitting you need help to do it properly. I watched my gran (who had been essentially a mother to me) go to senile dementia, and it was shattering. And I wasn't even her primary caregiver. I can't imagine the pain and heartbreak you're going through.

So yeah, listen to some good old rock n' roll/punk, smoke as much as you want, and vent wherever you can. If there are others who can spell you off, take them up on it. And as chuckdarwin said, I have some music that might help.

(((BitterOldPunk))) from one to another

(((Bitter Old Punk)))

You're doing a good thing.

((((BOP)))) My dad's in the same boat, although he is in an assisted living place he loves. He does the same things like the repeated phone calls. His sense of humor is still in there, and comes out at the most unexpected times, though.

You're a wonderful son. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too.

Sending HUGS and a yummy virtual double-triple-bacon cheesburger your way. Also, hope you find a wee bit of peace within yourself during this terrible time. Take care.
((((BitterOldPunk))))

*hugs B.O.P.*

My sister's and I are going through some of the same things with our mom, B.O.P. She doesn't have Alzheimer's, they think that she's had a series of micro-strokes that have damaged her memory. She's gone far down hill in the last two years but still refuses to move out of the creaky old Victorian house that's falling down around her. She's a brilliant woman, retired medical administrator, housing rights activist, AIDS educator, political rabble-rouser and it's painful to see her lose her self.

Hey, I read your blog. And I like it because you're a good writer with a hilarious sense of humor. And I'm going to third or fourth the respite care - you need it, anyone who does what you're doing needs time off. My mom is still pretty mentally acute but I know how it feels to be the primary caregiver; summer before last, when she was down in the hole with colon cancer and I was pretty much living at the hospital with her and then at her house - yeah. It is incredibly tough and you are amazing and wonderful for doing it.

And there's a bacon cheeseburger, rum, pot & cigarettes in Asheville for you any time you want to make the drive. Also, a Gogol Bordello CD a friend just sent me of gypsy punk which is way entertaining - think Stephane Grapelli meets Jello Biafra.

Big virtual hug, BitterOldPunk; a sniffle and a fought-back tear from over here, too.

I was twelve when I visited Grandma Grace in Oak Park, IL, with my brother and my dad, and as we walked up to where she waited at the front door, I could tell she knew who my brother and I were, but didn't recognize my father. She snapped it together and we went inside and had a wonderful time, but that was just the beginning of a now-familiar story. It broke my heart to see my dad and his brothers lose the tower of humor and good will that was my grandma. I mean, it hurt me to see her go, too, but yeah, I guess you know. I'm sorry.

Here's an article from Science News a few months back, about statin drugs and Alzheimer's. I haven't seen it reported elsewhere, which would usually make me suspect the science involved, but Science News is a reputable source for this kind of abstract. My dad has taken statin drugs since his heart surgery a couple years ago, and I can only hope the studies bear out to be true.

I hope things get better, or at least easier, for both of you.

(((BoP))) My granfather's health is really starting to fail, and I don't know how to deal with it, especially since I live thousands of miles away. I always remember him as the tall, lanky engineer who loved to putter around in his tool shed and work in his garden. Now, when I go home, he's so frail. His memory is failing and my mom says he's beginning to suffer from dementia. How can such a strong, smart man, who influenced me so much as a child, grow old so quickly? Will this happen to my father?

*hugs BOP*....My grandfather was lucid until the end, but it was horrible seeing someone who had been so robust grown skeletal and barely able to speak. I hate exercise too, but it's something I realize I need; I bring the ipod and something to read to the gym.

Do what you've got to do to get through, BOP. If that means cigarettes, booze and weed--well, OK then. You're hoeing a tough row and deserve to take your comfort where you can find it.

Big hugs to you.

I'm so sorry, BOP. I can only imagine what you're going through.
I can't NOT do what I'm doing.
You're a good man for doing what you're doing. And if you weren't, you'd probably have a hard time living with yourself. Hang in there, hugs and good thoughts to you.

Everything I was going to say has already been said, but know that my thoughts are with you, BOP.

Take care of yourself, (((BOP))).

Thinking of you, BOP. Feel free to whine as much as you need.

You guys have made me cry. Fuckers.

I posted this last night in the depths of a pity party sparked by reflecting on the MeFi thread referenced above.

It means SO MUCH to me that there are people who care. Thanks, peeps.

Anyone in Birmingham Alabama: beers are on me! This offer is good FO-EVAH!

Hugs, BitterOldPunk. I went through this with my dad a couple years back. The "When are you taking me home? I want to go home!" part of your story really resonates with me.

Offer not applicable to Yankees fans, Patriots fans, or disco afficianados. May not be valid in New Jersey. Subject to terms and conditions decided on a whim by offerer.

Atom Eyes: how did you deal?

And for all of you people suggesting I exercise:

*spark* *sizzle* *puff* *exhale*

...uh........what was the question?

My deepest sympathies, and as much empathy as I can give, having never been in the situation myself (and hopefully never will). You're a strong, strong man to have made it this far, and a better son than most.

And really, if you kick the cigarettes, there's nothing wrong with those other coping devices in my book. :)

*hugs*

Hi BitterOldPunk - glad you're feeling a bit better. You've gotta vent somehow...

When both of my Grandmothers would ask the question or say something about going home, I'd deflect it with something like - We'll have to talk to the doctors about it, or - When you're able to do a bit more for yourself, or You cann't be home alone right now...
Thankfully, the same phrase could be repeated often because they'd not remember. I'd take the not remembering/noticing the passage of time as a good thing for them cause they didn't really know how long they were there... We kept them at home for longer than was best for them as it was...*sigh*

::hugs::

Bitter Old Punk, thanks for writing that.

And I'm sending good thoughts and wishes and bacon cheeseburgers (with side of onion rings!) and, of course, ((((hugs)))) your way.

What you're handling... yeesh. It's hard.

When my mother went through this with her mother, I was a teenager and the only full-time support my mom had, so I've had a glimpse of what you're shouldering.

Be strong, but don't shrug off the idea of respite care. It can make a huge difference.

(((BOP)))

Chuckdarwin: dude! DBT are big in England, or are you unique? (Going to a Dirt Beneath show Oct 12! Rawk!)

On further reflection:

This situation is PRECISELY the definition of double jeopardy. OK, not really, but close. Despite being an only child, I'm not that close to my mom. I was always doing the wrong thing: too loud, too punk, ugly mohawk, bad clothes, too lazy, too inept, not studious, irreverent (fuck Jesus!), bad choice of girlfriend, wife, friends, profession, neighborhood, etc.

Now all of that fades away.

For the first time in my adult life, my mom loves me for ME, not despite me. That this has happened while she is certifiably insane is both gratifying and frustrating. On the plus side, I get the stuff she always withheld: an open smile, a genuine hug, a heartfelt "I love you". On the minus side, I get all this at a point in her life where I suspect desperation is in play, and she'd be saying the same to my cousin or to some dude/dudette hired by the state to keep her docile.

Yet I spend her money. I bought the computer I'm writing this on with her money, and it's the shit: a 24" iMac with 2 gigs of RAM and a graphics card that lets me run Eve Online in screaming high-def with no stutters. (Wolfe Lem, mining and ratting out of The Scope in Adacyne, if anyone is playing. C'mon, I got a missile with your name on it. Or let's team up and storm the 0.0 systems nearby. For real real. I'm shield-tanking a Kessie, yo, with Tech II missiles.)

Now, money isn't really a problem, and that's a blessing, no doubt. She's well taken care of, and by extension, so am I. I can afford to take care of her full-time. I mean, we can. The family can. Cuz that's all there is: me, and her. And the money, the real estate, the trust, the accounts, the bills, the burden, the blessing: that's all mine now. And I was never taught to handle it. I was taught that we were POOR, just scraping by, while all along I knew different. I went to high school on an academic scholarship, and I went to Columbia on an we-need-to-let-some-rednecks-in-for-diversity-scholarship. We were just faking it to make it, right?

Wrong.

Great! Hooray! Money is no longer the burning issue. I can do NOTHING, and there's enough to pay for mom's extended care for years and years with enough left over for me to go quietly insane with. Or loudly insane. I can't buy a villa in France, but I can damn sure buy a lake house in Alabama and enough cocaine and hookers to see me into my grave. (Note: I don't do coke, that was mere hyperbole. Hookers....eh. Not so much. I'm blessed with cheap and pedestrian tastes. Wank wank wank.)

So I spend the next few years taking care of mom, which I am happy to do, and blessed to be able to do. Then what? Back to school, to finish the useless liberal arts degree I fled from in panic because I was overwhelmed by LSD and bourbon? At FIFTY? Invest? Sure, but......huh? I know nothing about anything! I was a bartender, a waiter, a restaurant manager, a failed writer, an artsy-fartsy fool who never worried about money cuz I knew I'd never have any, as I'd been told from birth.

So, to summarize this whine-fest pity party (endorsed above *ahem*):

WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO NOW?

Then what? Back to school, to finish the useless liberal arts degree I fled from in panic because I was overwhelmed by LSD and bourbon? At FIFTY?

See, to me that sounds like heaven.

The students I see getting the most out of the coursework are over 30. We're there because we want to be, not because it's the next step. We all had to wrench ourselves out of our lives, to one degree or another, to be there.

For me, at least, that gives me a chance to revel in the experience and the process. The first and best thing I learned in college, after a lifetime of being told how smart and well-informed I am: Wow! I don't know much of anything! It was thoroughly liberating.

Liberating, too, was the experience of walking away from the life I'd had before... like stepping off the tightrope, not sure if the net was spread out beneath me. I loved it.

If school's not your thing, then something else is. You can find it. Give yourself time to breathe first.

Good man yerself BOP. Take care of your moms and I bet the rest of it has to fall together as a natural course of things. Chin up babes, you're doing the right thing.

Oh shit, did I just lose indie cred with jonmc by mentioning Nada Surf? ;P

You're talking cred with a Foreigner fan? ;>

(and I'll nth the 'good on ya' BOP. If your ever in the apple, I'll pour some libations down your neck. In my mind's eye you remind me of my pal Tennessee Sam, another Southern-bred punk fan. He also has a right purty wife. She used to work as an office manager at Playboy, she'd occasionaly get calls from 12-year old boys who would say 'Please, talk dirty to me ma'am..' I suggested she say 'OK, you're a horse's ass.')

BOP: my grandma was like this, and my mom looked after her, and it was unspeakably sad and difficult for her.

Describing what's going on is not whining. Describe all you need to. Hugs, regrettably virtual, are available as required.

Big virtual hug for BOP

And for all of you people suggesting I exercise:

*spark* *sizzle* *puff* *exhale*

...uh........what was the question?

There's no way around this basic truth: to start an exercise program after years of inactivity involves a fair amount of discomfort and yes, some physical pain. For the first two or three weeks of serious work, at least.

And then, your body gets stronger. Your mind gets stronger as well. The old aches and pains fade away. You sleep better. You feel more confident. You look a lot nicer. The depression goes away.

That was my experience, at least.

I'm so sorry you're going through this. Are there any other relatives or family friends who might be able to help you out?