Gee, so much has transpired since I last wrote.....summary? Ok! She has been mean and bossy, nosy and annoying, hateful and stubborn, greedy and thieving. I realize that is the definition of Moma, but take those to the 25th power. Now you get it?
I must go into detail about a recent event. Let's back up to Tuesday evening. She refused to eat a banana sandwich for supper but would not let me fix her ANYTHING. Fine. She went to bed. Hubby came home and I went to the track for a rousing 3 mile jaunt (great for the stress level). When I came home, she had not been up, so I went about my routine getting ready for bed. I took my bath and washed my hair, pj'd up and got settled on my bed for "Body of Proof" with my heating pad (no, I'm not in shape yet!) It was a good episode, and right smack dab in the middle of it, I hear that infernal sound of her walker. Grrrr.....I figured she just wanted diapers, but no. "Julie, you gotta come help me." "Help you what?" I asked in fear. "I've shit all over the place". KILL ME NOW. Knowing now what I didn't know then, I wish God had just smacked me down dead. Reluctantly, I followed her into her room. The aroma of you-know greeted us as we approached her room. I didn't really see anything much, but smelled it so I knew it was there....somewhere. She had some "skidmarks" on the bed but I found the disgusting treasure in her bedside commode and her garbage can. I emptied them into a garbage bag, tied it up and began stripping her bed. I then took the pot to the bathroom for a thorough cleaning. Garbage emptied, pot clean, bed stripped and remade.....that wasn't so bad. But, she then got on the pot......the story goes bad downhill from here so I'm going to shortcut it for you. Her "tail" (as she referred to it) was hurting, but it appeared she had diarrhea. I knew what that meant. Glove up.....it's dig time. I put a pad on the bed, stripped her and rolled her over on her side. Yes.....I dug it out. Didn't call for any reinforcements because there were none, and I knew it. She screamed and I cursed. She slapped me and I popped her back. It was bad ugly. I was mean to her. It was NOT her fault, but if you know me, you know that I hate that sort of thing. God knew not to call me into nursing...... The truly bad thing was after I "dug her out", the oozing began of all the backed up stuff. It was just running. She wasn't doing it, she couldn't control it. I'd get her cleaned up and a fresh diaper and back in the bed, and her diaper would be full and running out the legs. I changed her bed 4 or 5 times in 3 1/2 hours. We went through all her gowns because she kept dragging them through it either on the bed or the commode. She had to change house shoes 3 times because she pulls her legs up in bed and was wagging her shoes through it. I thought she was disappearing from the inside out. It stunk so bad, I gagged and gagged (while there was peace on earth outside her door). I wanted her to sit on the toilet until it stopped. She kept wiping and wiping. She had her bottom bleeding. She was screaming in pain from the raw skin. I finally moved the tissue, the toilet paper, and the wipes, so she would be forced to stop wiping. She just used her hand. YES! and then wiped it on the bed. AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! The urge to just kill her was getting stronger. It was like she was doing the exact opposite of what I was asking her to do for pure meanness. I did talk very ugly to her which I have asked forgiveness for (and still feel guilty) I was exhausted. It was after midnight and I knew I'd never get up for work the next day, so I finally gave her enough drugs to kill her, put her in the bed, went into the dark living room and cried. I realized that I smelled like it, plus I had sweat like a man, so I took yet another bath and re-washed my hair. I laid in the bathtub and cried and prayed. I was in a very bad place. When I finally hit the bed, my body ached, my head was throbbing, and I was nauseated from the smell. The fear of my killing her with the medicines I gave her sank in. I laid in pain, wide awake for what seemed like hours. I went into work late the next day, and cried all the way. Good grief............
Sorry for the disgusting post, but I promised to be brutally honest. Now go have you a big lunch! Have a brownie, on Mildred.
No comments:
Post a Comment