Caregiver Chronicles: My Journey

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Category: Caregiver Stories

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  • Another one bites the dust

    So sad to say yet another relationship is over, courtesy of my living situation. Another one bites the dust. I thought I had found someone who could look past my shitty environment and just see me. I thought that after all my honesty and transparency that it was OK to allow someone to see my reality.

    I believe that our souls are here to learn. That every relationship, hardship, and problem we encounter during our stay here on this planet is to teach our soul what it needs to learn before moving on. I am having a difficult time finding the lesson in this recent devastating event.

    I invited RR for a tour of the property the other day, I had no intention of inviting him inside, but the weather was calling for rain and thunderstorms. So, morning of I bust my ass cleaning up as much as I could before RR arrived at noon. I figured it would be a shock to see my living situation, but I never expected another break-up by text.

    Being a caregiver for my parents is preventing me from having a normal relationship. I have given everything I have to my parents, even my sanity, apparently. My brother is living his life with no attempt to help out. I can’t even take a holiday because there is too much around here I do that my parents can’t. I turn 50 in a couple months and I have nothing to show for it.

    I had high hopes for developing a relationship with RR, but another one bites the dust. And I am devastated.

  • Being a caregiver of a patient with dementia makes relationships difficult

    I have written on the topic of dating before. How being a caregiver of a patient with dementia makes relationships difficult. Yesterday I had a “coffee and walk along the harbor” date with a different gentleman from eharmony.

    It went so well. I am so fortunate to have found someone who respects what I’m doing for my parents. Instead of asking why I tolerate living here, he complimented me saying

    “You are a good daughter.”

    He is an amazing guy with so many similar hobbies. He loves cats and has 2 of his own. He has a goal of being a published author, as do I. He is an easy 25 minute drive away.

    The best was the lack of judgment I felt. I told him stories about my life, former and present, and he just listened. No recoiling in horror when I talk about dad using the litter box or being honest about the number of cats that are in this house.

    I feel very fortunate to have found someone that matches me so well and who sees value in my caregiver role. He is amazing and I have great hopes for this relationship.

    Being a caregiver to a patient with dementia makes relationships difficult, but I think I have lucked out. Thanks RR for being you.

    Until next time, take good care.

  • Another Dementia Dilemma – Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

    Another dementia dilemma is that many dementia patients have different “personalities”. In some cases the dementia patient forgets people and past events.

    In my case there are two main personalities, and I never know who I will encounter when I wake up in the morning. The Dr. Jekyll personality is a mildly grumpy, dad-joke telling senior that is essentially harmless to those around him.

    Mr. Hyde, on the other hand, is cruel and vindictive and his purpose seems to be hurt everyone around him. He is crude, loud, vulgar and he loves to “hit below the belt.” My mother and I warn each other if Mr. Hyde is paying us a visit.

    I had an encounter with a different personality the other morning. Let’s call him Mr. Inappropriate. Mr. Inappropriate, as the name suggests, acts inappropriately. Making jokes that are sexual in nature, grabby hands and sexual comments in general. Not appropriate things for a father to say to a daughter, even an adult daughter.

    Because if I voice my feelings of discomfort regarding a joke or comment, I am being a prude. And there is a good chance if I appear to be opposed to something he is saying or doing that Mr. Hyde may pay us a visit. And no one in the house wants that.

  • I am Powerful, I just need to Remember It

    I just finished listening to an other episode of my favorite podcaster’s show. Rob Dial reminds me “I am powerful, I just need to remember it.” As a caregiver it is easy for us to lose ourselves. To allow our limiting beliefs and negative thoughts shape who we are.

    I am constantly being treated like a wayward teenager in need of fixing by my father. Not the adult caregiver of him and my mother. It had really started to affect how I felt about myself. Through therapy (thanks AS), journaling, listening to positive media, and practicing mindfulness I have rediscovered my self confidence.

    I have affirmations that I recite to myself every morning. I am developing a positive, healthy relationship with a wonderful gentleman. I do yoga daily. I have healthy coping mechanisms to replace unhealthy ones. I try to focus on being present in the moment and challenging any negative thoughts that arise. Especially about myself. Because I am not a wayward teen, or a loser, or a freeloader or any of the things my father accuses me of being.

    I am powerful, I just need to remember it. Remind yourselves of your power, of your worth, your strength, your resilience.

    Until next time.

  • Truth and Lies in Dementia Patients (this caregiver’s experience)

    If you’ve been following along you will know about my newest obstacle being a caregiver of a dementia patient. Well, my father has finally decided on an acceptable alternative to using the kitty litter. A small pail…which he keeps on the kitchen counter. Ick. I have learned that you really need to choose your battles (for me, boundaries) when dealing with a dementia patient.

    As there is always a chance that when confronting my father with a truth he does not agree with, or anything contradictory to his desires he will blow up. Fortunately dad has never been violent with my mom or I, he is more of an emotional terrorist. He is cruel and relentless.

    The reason your parents are so good at pushing your buttons is that they installed them in the first place.

    As of July 25th I do not remember for certain who to attribute the preceding quote to. I will update with a name if I can confirm.

    Every time my father tries to pick a fight and his words are so mean I feel them viscerally. Like a gut punch or a kick in the crotch. It is hard to not contradict or correct him. Truth and lies in a dementia patient is a difficult issue to tackle. Often they fully believe their memory or version of events is fact, not relative.

    What does this have to do with the price of tea in China? Well, the pail on the counter which dad swears he uses is always dry. He lies and I think he is proud he is “fooling” mom and I. He even makes lame jokes if something is spilled on the counter and any reference to it is made he shouts:

    It wasn’t me. I take the pail down (off the counter) before I pee in it. I’m a good boy.

    Until I visit our mutual family doctor next week I will not challenge the lie. But I need to enforce that boundary if I can.

    Until next time remember to take care of yourselves.

  • July 6th

    Sunday morning

    Sunday morning and I find myself up before dawn. My little foster kitten is hungry. I get up despite wanting a few more zzzzs. The kitchen is empty and I am able to quickly start myself a coffee. Dad must be napping. There is evidence of him having been awake already:

    • fresh canned food for the cats
    • light is left on under cupboards
    • Radio is blasting Zoomer Radio
    • the counters have sugar, coffee and juice spilled on them (not cleaned up)
    • there are a variety of recyclables left on the stove top, namely Pepsi cans and a plastic clamshell that once had powdered doughnuts in it
    • His dirty ashtray is beside the recyclables

    I wipe down the counters, put the recycling in the bin, fill water bottles and reservoirs with filtered water. With my coffee ready, off to plan my day:

    • Pick up Walmart order I placed Saturday, unload and organize things. The small tuna sized cans of cat food need to be organized just so in a handled cardboard box. The large soup sized cans need to be organized just so, sandwiched between two 12 can flats and then put down in a particular spot. Ditto cat treats and all of dad’s supplies. He gets quite cranky if things aren’t exactly the way he likes.
    • Mom gets up partway through the grocery unload and sort. We open the packages of chicken breasts, wrap each one in plastic wrap, then into a ziploc for freezing.
    • Refresh litter boxes – we ran out of litter last week, so the depth of litter is less than an inch. (Which, FYI. most cats hate…I have been getting the evil eye from some of the cats because of it.
    • 40 minute yoga with Adrienne Detox and Reset https://youtu.be/vbgxIwQoyN4?si=0BwytUdiofWspF1j Her videos are terrific for me and I love Benji
    • Watch a video by Mel Robbins about making someone obsessed with you which was perfect for today as it turns out.

    Sunday afternoon

    Sunday afternoon and I find myself alone when I am supposed to be spending time with SB. He has been very incommunicative since Tuesday last week. He had briefly forewarned me that the family was having a reunion, and that he would not be available for chat for the week. I had not thought this would extend into our “date time.” Certainly he would have been clear about this after the email I sent and talk we had about respect.

  • July 9th: My final therapy session

    I had my final therapy session with AS today. He has helped me a lot and I will definitely miss his “outside looking in” unbiased thoughts on my issues. He helped me re-realize my self-worth and confidence that I had lost since I was a successful, married, home owning woman. I had a “normal” life. I realized that I tied a lot of my self-worth to being a talented and gifted feline RVT.

    AS helped me set some boundaries (even when I didn’t realize it). For example, I set a time boundary with my fiance. He has issues saying no to people in his household. Our time is often sacrificed for him to do for others. I set a verbal boundary for Dad primarily. “I am not available to speak to you if you are being insulting, manipulative, or any gaslighting behavior.” And the physical boundary I set “I will not scoop any litter box that has been used by a human.”(see earlier post titled “Here’s me” where I discuss inappropriate human urination)

    Lastly, we discussed my fear of black trucks. I was struck as a pedestrian by a black truck in February of 2024. We discussed exposure therapy, the gradual exposure to something you are afraid of. AS suggested when I see a black pickup to talk to it, to touch it. Even hug it. To which I replied “Are you trying to get me arrested?”

    Picture me in some parking lot going to the black pickup trucks only, talking to them (psych ward), touching and hugging (jail). I’m sure that neither the owners of the vehicles, nor the police would appreciate that behavior.

    That sums up my final therapy session. For now anyways.

  • July the month for celebration and of loss

    Today is my mother’s 72nd birthday. Truly a time to celebrate the person that gave me life. And is my best friend and confidante.

    My birthday is in November, 9/11 to be exact. I dreaded the month of November for 3 decades of my life. November had been the month of many heart-wrenching events.

    It seems that in recent years the month to dread has shifted from November to July. And this July has been a doozy so far.

    On the 13th SB (engaged to me since 2020) ended the 7+ year relationship…by text. He decided to devote his life to Jesus Christ and he took a vow of celibacy. Although this news was devastating I believe it to be for the best in the long run. I think we will remain good friends, but the dynamic has shifted.

    I also was nursing a sick kitten, B.B., when I received the text. And, very sadly, he died the evening of the 15th. Weirdly an adult cat, Penny started having seizures that day. She was dead by nightfall. A very sad event too.

    But today I decide to celebrate my mother. And forget the rest.

  • Loss and celebration

    Today is my mother’s 72nd birthday. I was, for as far back as I remember, dreading of the month of November. For many years starting in the late 80s or early 90s, the vast majority of my heart-wrenching events occurred in the month of November. Incidentally my birthday is in November, 9/11 to be exact. In recent years, 2025 in particular, July has become the month to dread.
    On July 13th SB (we were engaged since 2020) broke up with me via text. He devoted his life to Jesus Christ and took a vow of celibacy. Although it is for the besst in the long run, it was still devastating.
    At the time I was also nursing a beautiful kitten, B.B. On July 15th B.B. lost his battle with his mystery illness. An adult cat, Penny, started having seizures that morning, and was dead by nightfall too.
    I am infinitely grateful to my mom, my best friend and confidante. So today, July 17th, I celebrate her and temporarily forget the rest.

  • July 10th

    Yesterday, at long last, after several conversations I have arranged to have some of the “newbies” put up for adoption at a local pet shop. I have been trying to get Dad to take some ownership over the overpopulation, but so far it has only been me trying to find homes for the litters of kittens we have. Thankfully the pet shop was willing to take a 1 year old cat, a male who Dad initially proclaimed we would be keeping until it came time for neutering and vaccinations. He is super cute with a terrific “lap cat” personality so I’m sure he will go fast.

    This morning Dad was trying to change which kittens I had already agreed to take. He feels that he will miss them all running around. Yet he is constantly yelling at them for being in his way or being too “crazy kitten” and getting into trouble. But 2 things made the decision for us:

    • I had discussed with the owner the ages and sexes of the kittens, and the two litters don’t match up
    • I said that it would be a recipe for disaster if we put kittens from different litters (that have been kept separate) into a carrier together.

    The process of catching, caging then transporting went well. So well that I arrived at the same time as the owner. Which also meant we were 40 minutes early for our appointment at the car dealership.

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