Friday, December 30, 2005
So, I was talking to MCF yesterday...
...and mentioned that I was both surprised and pleased that Mom has not picked up my cold.
"I'm not surprised," she said. "You're the one who's run down." I hadn't thought of it this way, but that's true. Mom get's plenty of rest, eats well and leads a highly stress free life. I, on the other hand, go into sleep deficit or sleep restlessly on a fairly regular basis, try to eat well but often skip lunch and occasionally skimp on dinner, and while I can't say that I am most of the time stressed to my limits, I am always "on", even when I'm sleeping, just in case. I guess, after awhile, that tends to compromise one's immune system.
This morning I was talking to MCS. I mentioned to her that, contrary to what I used to believe, that I would be "exhausted" when Mom dies, in fact I'm beginning to suspect that I will probably experience an energy and spirit revival immediately after her death, as many do who are living with Ancient and Infirm Ones. "I'm exhausted now," I told her, "and expect I'll remain that way for the rest of her life."
This isn't to refute what I wrote earlier this fall, that our life is eminently more peaceful that it has been over the last five years. It is, and I'm definitely appreciative. I worked hard to get us here. Which is the point. I work hard to keep us in this peaceful place, as well.
This morning I did a little internet research, trying to find information about the history of the nursing home phenomenon, from way back to now. I wasn't terribly successful but in my web wanderings I discovered a book which I immediately ordered: The History of Old Age, edited by Pat Thane; the U.S. publication of his British book, The Long History of Old Age. I was going to order the book through Amazon.uk until further searching led me to the U.S. publication, which is cheaper and will be much easier to acquire. The first review cited here is the one that intrigued me (the second cautioned me about what to expect). My mother and I have had several conversations throughout the years concerning whether it's true that old age is a fairly recent phenomenon, which The Literature and The Media would have us believe. We've each surmised that, although in centuries past, yes, childhood death rates have been high, but it would seem that if one survived childhood the chances were good that one would live to at least the closer reaches of elderhood. It seems that we surmised correctly.
The reason we've been discussing old age lately is that in one of Mom's recent tabloids [hold on while I reference it: Globe (unfortunately for this referencing, one of American Media, Inc.'s publications that isn't online); January 2, 2006; pg. 55] appeared a short article about Kitty Carlisle, most ubiquitously known for her appearances on To Tell the Truth, also a legitimate star of stage and screen and the widow of Moss Hart. Mom spotted the article and passed it across to me one morning recently at breakfast. It is written in a Ripley's Believe It or Not style with the following information: Ms. Hart, who is 95, is astonishingly alive and active. She is currently starring in a one woman, 75 minute show, My Life on the Wicked Stage, which is traveling across country. A point is made of mentioning that she stands the entire time she is onstage. She continues her active social life, going out almost every night. She discusses her health routine, which includes "eating right and getting plenty of exercise. My instrument - my voice - is inside my body so I have to exercise. I still do 30 leg lifts and get on my treadmill several times a week. I can put my legs over my head and touch the floor." She adds, "People are always saying how good I look for my age. If I knew what my secret was, I'd be the richest woman in the world. I spend about $8 a year on makeup and put Nivea on my face every day and night. That's all I do." She mentions that 17 years ago she had a face lift. Two years ago, "I went to my doctor...and said, 'Surely you can do something to make me look better'. He turned me to the light and said, 'Go home.' I never thought of it again."
After I read the article I was more curious to see what my mother's reaction to it was than to divulge mine. I finished it and with a smile said, "Well, what do you think about that?!?"
"I think it's wonderful! Good for her!" There was not a hint of envy for this 95 year old Wonder Woman, nor any regret that her own elderly life was not nearly as astonishing. This didn't surprise me...my mother is an amazingly accepting creature. As I read the article, though, I watched my own reactions: A variety of internal questions formed under the heading of What Accounts for the Difference Between My Mother and Kitty Carlisle? I don't spend a lot of time worrying about these aspects of old age, but when I hear about an 86 year old surfer, or a 92 year old in New England still working full time, or a Kitty Carlisle, it's hard not to wonder why the ambitious, dynamic individual my mother has been most of her life is now 88 with Dementia-Lite, Chronic Renal Failure, Anemia Due to Chronic Disease, in need of full-time caregiving by a dedicated daughter.
I always finally decide: This is one of the mysteries we are still trying to solve. Wouldn't we all like to live to be 95, as vibrantly as Kitty Carlisle? Why do only a very few of us become Kitty Carlisle? Some of us who try very hard to do this don't make it; I'm thinking of Jim Fixx. Often it seems it is those who aren't working hard at it who accomplish it. This is one of the most mysterious aspect of life, the one we humans have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to understand and, still, all we can come up with is, some do and some don't. It's an incredibly sobering realization, especially when you are a caregiver to An Ancient One. The best bet, I think, especially if one is caring for An Ancient One, is to forget the questions, put the mystery aside while you're with your Ancient One and she is with you. Despite everything one, as a caregiver, attempts to do to ameliorate what one is tempted to consider the "health choices" of old age, my experience has told me that life works better when you follow your Ancient One's determination rather than your own, regardless of where that leads. Consider yourself lucky if you are caring for An Ancient One who is as accepting and regret free as my mother. If your's isn't, though, while you probably cannot keep your Ancient One from their spiritual misery, your path will be easier if you do not join them in it. If you think counseling will help your Ancient One, make sure you delegate this job to someone else. Do not attempt it yourself. If nothing helps, rest yourself in the knowledge that your Ancient One is living the eccentric mystery of her or his elder life in exactly the same way as my mother and as Kitty Carlisle; the fact that he or she remains alive is an indication that they are who they are meant to be.
"I'm not surprised," she said. "You're the one who's run down." I hadn't thought of it this way, but that's true. Mom get's plenty of rest, eats well and leads a highly stress free life. I, on the other hand, go into sleep deficit or sleep restlessly on a fairly regular basis, try to eat well but often skip lunch and occasionally skimp on dinner, and while I can't say that I am most of the time stressed to my limits, I am always "on", even when I'm sleeping, just in case. I guess, after awhile, that tends to compromise one's immune system.
This morning I was talking to MCS. I mentioned to her that, contrary to what I used to believe, that I would be "exhausted" when Mom dies, in fact I'm beginning to suspect that I will probably experience an energy and spirit revival immediately after her death, as many do who are living with Ancient and Infirm Ones. "I'm exhausted now," I told her, "and expect I'll remain that way for the rest of her life."
This isn't to refute what I wrote earlier this fall, that our life is eminently more peaceful that it has been over the last five years. It is, and I'm definitely appreciative. I worked hard to get us here. Which is the point. I work hard to keep us in this peaceful place, as well.
This morning I did a little internet research, trying to find information about the history of the nursing home phenomenon, from way back to now. I wasn't terribly successful but in my web wanderings I discovered a book which I immediately ordered: The History of Old Age, edited by Pat Thane; the U.S. publication of his British book, The Long History of Old Age. I was going to order the book through Amazon.uk until further searching led me to the U.S. publication, which is cheaper and will be much easier to acquire. The first review cited here is the one that intrigued me (the second cautioned me about what to expect). My mother and I have had several conversations throughout the years concerning whether it's true that old age is a fairly recent phenomenon, which The Literature and The Media would have us believe. We've each surmised that, although in centuries past, yes, childhood death rates have been high, but it would seem that if one survived childhood the chances were good that one would live to at least the closer reaches of elderhood. It seems that we surmised correctly.
The reason we've been discussing old age lately is that in one of Mom's recent tabloids [hold on while I reference it: Globe (unfortunately for this referencing, one of American Media, Inc.'s publications that isn't online); January 2, 2006; pg. 55] appeared a short article about Kitty Carlisle, most ubiquitously known for her appearances on To Tell the Truth, also a legitimate star of stage and screen and the widow of Moss Hart. Mom spotted the article and passed it across to me one morning recently at breakfast. It is written in a Ripley's Believe It or Not style with the following information: Ms. Hart, who is 95, is astonishingly alive and active. She is currently starring in a one woman, 75 minute show, My Life on the Wicked Stage, which is traveling across country. A point is made of mentioning that she stands the entire time she is onstage. She continues her active social life, going out almost every night. She discusses her health routine, which includes "eating right and getting plenty of exercise. My instrument - my voice - is inside my body so I have to exercise. I still do 30 leg lifts and get on my treadmill several times a week. I can put my legs over my head and touch the floor." She adds, "People are always saying how good I look for my age. If I knew what my secret was, I'd be the richest woman in the world. I spend about $8 a year on makeup and put Nivea on my face every day and night. That's all I do." She mentions that 17 years ago she had a face lift. Two years ago, "I went to my doctor...and said, 'Surely you can do something to make me look better'. He turned me to the light and said, 'Go home.' I never thought of it again."
After I read the article I was more curious to see what my mother's reaction to it was than to divulge mine. I finished it and with a smile said, "Well, what do you think about that?!?"
"I think it's wonderful! Good for her!" There was not a hint of envy for this 95 year old Wonder Woman, nor any regret that her own elderly life was not nearly as astonishing. This didn't surprise me...my mother is an amazingly accepting creature. As I read the article, though, I watched my own reactions: A variety of internal questions formed under the heading of What Accounts for the Difference Between My Mother and Kitty Carlisle? I don't spend a lot of time worrying about these aspects of old age, but when I hear about an 86 year old surfer, or a 92 year old in New England still working full time, or a Kitty Carlisle, it's hard not to wonder why the ambitious, dynamic individual my mother has been most of her life is now 88 with Dementia-Lite, Chronic Renal Failure, Anemia Due to Chronic Disease, in need of full-time caregiving by a dedicated daughter.
I always finally decide: This is one of the mysteries we are still trying to solve. Wouldn't we all like to live to be 95, as vibrantly as Kitty Carlisle? Why do only a very few of us become Kitty Carlisle? Some of us who try very hard to do this don't make it; I'm thinking of Jim Fixx. Often it seems it is those who aren't working hard at it who accomplish it. This is one of the most mysterious aspect of life, the one we humans have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to understand and, still, all we can come up with is, some do and some don't. It's an incredibly sobering realization, especially when you are a caregiver to An Ancient One. The best bet, I think, especially if one is caring for An Ancient One, is to forget the questions, put the mystery aside while you're with your Ancient One and she is with you. Despite everything one, as a caregiver, attempts to do to ameliorate what one is tempted to consider the "health choices" of old age, my experience has told me that life works better when you follow your Ancient One's determination rather than your own, regardless of where that leads. Consider yourself lucky if you are caring for An Ancient One who is as accepting and regret free as my mother. If your's isn't, though, while you probably cannot keep your Ancient One from their spiritual misery, your path will be easier if you do not join them in it. If you think counseling will help your Ancient One, make sure you delegate this job to someone else. Do not attempt it yourself. If nothing helps, rest yourself in the knowledge that your Ancient One is living the eccentric mystery of her or his elder life in exactly the same way as my mother and as Kitty Carlisle; the fact that he or she remains alive is an indication that they are who they are meant to be.
