Okay, first I need to get this out of the way, I love Dad, I really, really do. BUT, he's giving my last nerve a complete aerobic workout. I need to vent.
A lot's happened in the last couple of days sense Dad's meltdown. For starters, Britney reported Dad's outburst to Dr. Jin, his primary care doctor, and docs nurse called to schedule an appointment for the next day within about two hours of the incident in question. Jean drove him and muscled (or mosy'd) her way into the doctor's office along side Dad. I'm surprised he didn't toss her out and close the door in her face. I know he wishes he had now. You see, he's furious with Jean because she told the good doctor that she was concerned about his driving. Dr. Jin responded that he'd told Dad he couldn't drive until he advised otherwise. Well, in Dad's mind Jean was instrumental in keeping him from driving and he's royally pissed. He is of course, completely overlooking the part when the doctor said they had the driving discussion before, and the fact that HE SHOULDN'T BE DOING IT. Jean called me at work to warn me about the day's events. The minute I walked in the front door he started, well, after I gave my opener that is, "Hey Dad." It was like flicking a switch, "Well, Jean went and got my doctor to say I can't drive." Words seemed to spur Dad on so I didn't give him any. Silence. After an awkward moment of no talking I asked, "Is there any medication I need to pick up at Walgreens?" Safe question, which I knew would have an affirmative response since I'd ordered refills the night before. He continued to ramble on about Jean and the fact that she told the doctor she'd take him to every appointment and that she won't be able to do that because she has to look for a job and if at any time she can't take him he just won't go to his doctor appointment. This was starting to sound pretty similar to the incident this summer after I called his doctor to discuss his driving, his threats to not go to another doctor's appointment or take any more medication if his doctor even suggested he could no longer drive. Dad's specialized brand of emotional blackmail. Aaaaah! I could feel my blood pressure rising. Deep cleansing breaths in, negative energy out. So I said, "Anytime Jean can't take you, I will." He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously disbelieving. Still putting forth serious effort to be really, really calm, I said. "We're just trying to help." His next comment was very clear and distinct. "Yeah, well your help is more hurting than anything else." And ho hum, I lost the temper I've prided myself on keeping a tight reign on for years, "WHAT DO YOU EXPECT US TO DO?!" In an effort to call forth a calm, zen state I prayed, but too late. I'd stepped over the edge, and Dad was staring at me like I'd lost my mind. "WE'VE BEEN DOING EVERYTHING WE CAN TO HELP YOU!!" Oh the look on his face, like he wasn't sure if he should take the time to grab his cane before making a run for the door or pick up the phone and call the cops.
"Well," he started, "I wasn't talking about you." Really, I couldn't get that from the "yous and yours" references. "You" and "your" typically refers to the person standing in front of you. Dad always backtracks when he realizes he's gone too far. And his favorite line is, "I was just joking. Geez, why are you so sensitive? Just like Jean." Really good 'piss a person off' question.
Finally the zen state of mind kicked in and I was able to bring sanity home. Sort of. "So," I took a deep calming breath. "Do you want me to pick up your medications?" In the same tone I'd use to say, 'Would you like some hot cocoa or cookies?' I'm sure the abrupt about face unnerved him even more, because he was speechless, and his eyes were undoubtedly drawn to the neon sign on my forehead blinking, SNAPPED!
In a discussion with Tony later (and Tamara and Jean, and Vickie and probably the mailman and I'd think Doug, his next door neighbor, oh and his brothers Ernie and Charlie), Dad did a recounting of our attempt at communicating (in his own special way, of course) and said, "She yelled at me, for no reason at all. I'll never forgive her for that." I can imagine him pausing for the dramatic effect before saying, "I've never seen that look in her eyes before." Did he ever even meet me? My Dad has no idea who I am. The reason why he's never seen "that look" in my eyes before is because I work really hard to be respectful regardless to the thoughtless and mean comments he makes on occasion. And you wonder why I don't want to give up my personal space, even if it's only for the weekends, my own Shangri-la, and move in with him? Pah-lease.
I lost my temper which puts me in a funk; rule no. 1 in the "Care giving Guidebook": Do not yell at the patient. To be honest, I don't know if that book exist, but if it does, I bet that particular rule has a chapter dedicated to it. And now, I guess you have a better idea of where I came up with my blog title, The World's Worst Caregiver. Aaaarg! I wonder if there are any suggestions in "the book" on how to continue with the caring and the giving when sometimes you feel as if you're in an emotionally abusive relationship. I don't like feeling like that. It's just not good for anybody.
God, please give me an abundance of love and patience. I'm going back tonight.
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