Aging Parents

Sorry, everyone: my dad fell and broke the top vertebra in his neck. My sister and I spent some time at my parents’ house, figuring some things out. Or trying to.

The reason my dad is not paralyzed is arthritis. The vertebra snapped in two places, making a single piece surrounding his spinal cord and two side pieces–all held in place by the severe calcification of his bones due to advancing age.

My dad does not see this as lucky. He sees it as a minor inconvenience. My mom spends a lot of time trying to convince him he cannot mow the lawn. You should have seen the home health nurse’s face when he asked her the same question.

We like feisty old people on television. A certain amount of orneriness keeps the elders alive, makes life worth living for them, etc. But when someone who has spent his whole life being the decision maker is confronted with the fact that some decisions have been taken out of his hands because he is broken, he may not listen.

And family dynamics will rise to the surface, and that charming Golden Girls fighting spirit will turn into a family fight. Of course elders don’t want to leave their home. And if the home is safe, working hard to make sure they don’t is your best bet.

When the home is not safe, stubbornness becomes danger. It is a difficult transition for adult children to make; a geriatric physician friend says “it’s difficult raising parents.”

At some point the irony kicks. You find yourself saying “I have done the best I can for you and yet you continue to fight what is best for yourself by labeling it ‘you just don’t understand’.” And then you bust out laughing because you remember this conversation in reverse somewhere around your junior year of high school.

Humor might save your sanity, but it won’t save the situation. If a family has spent a lifetime building up a specific form of communication best labeled as ‘avoidance,’ that dynamic will continue into the final years. And perhaps make them the wee bit miserable.

So now you know.

Lubricating the Works – –

Jack has been ‘hors de combat’ the last week and a half but may be back in the saddle now – – there’s a joke in there – –

It’s been a rough time with stomach issues I thought were simply constipation and trapped gas (TMI?). So my first port of call involved childhood memories – the dreaded castor oil!

When I was just a wee boy my mother was encouraged by the British government to feed me castor oil to make me ‘regular’, so I came to hate it no matter how she tried to disguise it! One of her gambits was to try to mix it with orange juice but of course they didn’t, and to this day a whiff of orange zest can make me nauseous!

But ten or so years later I became deeply involved in building and flying model planes and most of them were powered with engines – diesel engines! The ‘must have’ was the Oliver Tiger, and I eventually could afford one! What does this have to do with castor oil I hear you ask? Have you guessed yet??

Small single cylinder diesel engines run on a mixture of air and fuel under compression – the fuel is a mixture of ether (yes –actual ether) and castor oil which came in cans from a company called – wait for it – Castrol! They don’t need a spark or glo plug – no battery needed.

So – as usual a mixture of good and not so good memories.

But it seems that the stomach issues are probably gastric flu – so gastro enteritis which I must have picked up somewhere!