Today, I started out with good intentions. The chore list was outlined first, clean up the utility room, clean cat boxes, take out trash, second vacuum and sweep, third touch up kitchen. Only problem was nothing went according to my plan. Our overweight black lab, got territorial and when I stood in utility room, I found he left a wonderful present, he pooped in our cat boxes and then peed up and down the outside of the cat boxes mixing his pee in cat litter he had dumped out on the floor. An hour later after I cleaned up his mess, I proceed to mom’s bedroom, to find to my horror all my mom’s nice comforters are on the floor, dirty, with hairballs, cat throw up, covered in black lab hair with the big black lab rolling all over the comforters. I shew the dog away, pick up the comforters and head to laundry room, to throw in wash. I come back to mom bedroom and step in wet dog saliva slipping trying to stay upright.
While I’m getting that cleaned up, my mom thinks the cats are underfeed and opened five cans of cat food dished out on ten saucers, placed all over house. Mom then opens back door letting all pets outside, only problem is the cats are not suppose to go out, they are house cats. Thirty minutes in back yard, on a search mission, catching cats.
Usually, when I’m trying to do chores, mom gets more active, she is 77 and likes to help, but even when I give her small chores, I usually have moments like with the cat food. Mom thinks she has done these habits all her life.
Due to Hashimotos, I’m fatigued and after all the above I’m exhausted. Yet, I carry onward, I’m not a quitter, I proceed to clean kitchen. Today is trash day, so I collect all the trash, to go outside, and as I pull kitchen bag out the bag busts spewing garbage everywhere, as Im standing there looking in horror at the mess, our two cats race through kitchen and that big black lab clocks my left knee out from under me and I go down into all the trash screaming in pain while words and noises spew forth out my mouth that I despise. My language was worse than my drill Sargent dad with new recruits. 😭
I just sat on that garbage strewn floor and emotionally lost it. I truly grieved over the loss of my father who death anniversary is May 1, 2020. Then I proceeded to cry harder, hyperventilate and get my butt kicked by a bad anxiety attack sinking into a good pity party, over how I’m mostly obsolete to my siblings , I really could use their help. I don’t get breaks weeks on end, they think I get a break everyday, they truly seem to have no understanding what it is to be our moms caregiver, managing prescriptions, breathing machines, medical emergencies, doctor calls, being on call 24/7, sleep deprivation, can’t work due to my medical issues, no income, waiting on Disability hearing, my vehicle vandalized, no transportation, can’t get to my doctors, no way to provide my financial needs, and as I sat on that messy floor, I just hung my head in shame. While it is complex caring for my mom , I just feel I lack a good family support team to help out. I’m here because I love my mom, I enjoy being with her making memories, I just feel very alone without an adequate support team. I am mother’s caregiver, cook, housekeeper first, then her daughter second.
When you’re caring for a loved one, there’s nothing you won’t do (or sacrifice) to give them as much comfort and peace of mind as you can possibly provide. Often, that means you’ll skip your social obligations, wreck your diet, suffer sleep deprivation, and even risk your career, all to help a loved one through the most difficult time of their life.
Now. I had to figure out how to get up off the floor, I shamelessly slid across the floor and rolled onto the couch , not caring about garbage, I will clean it later. I’m fortunate and grateful for my time with mom. On days like this, I simply go to God and ask forgiveness, its not about me, I’m blessed above measure to have this time with my mom, I have learned so much from her, Oh how I thank God for my momma!
And yes, I love the black lab, his name is Jake!