Movie Quotes

Sadly, I have once again learned that life is not like the movies. Always a disapointment, I've found that having children, getting married, are not at all like the movies. Now I'm discovering that the Hollywood cliche of old people with hidden gems (either literal or figurative) is also a lot of hot air. In movies like "Tuesdays with Morrie" or "Harold and Maude" , the old people have great life lessons to share with us. Remember "Fried Green Tomatoes" where the Kathy Bates character meets a quirky, yet charming old woman, the Jessica Tandy character, in a nursing home? The old woman tells a life empowering story that helps the younger woman find a deeper, richer life. Now that I've logged a few hours with the residents of the nursing homes I can tell you with authority that the likelihood of having a resident tell you a life-enriching story are slim. Here is an actual transcript of my conversion with Fran one evening.

Setting: Interior my home, it has been very hot, and I'm trying to get Fran to drink some cold water.

F: I can't very well drink it, it's too big a place. [translation: too big a glass]

J: Hmm.

F: Do you think that would work?

J: Hmm.

F: I'll have to get my pants off. (Fran gets up, wanders towards door, kicks my foot) Oops, did I touch somebody's toe? I didn't mean to. (Hands me the glass) Here's some of this you can drink, if you'd like to.

J: I don't want to drink it.

F: What did you think? About getting this put into your program, it's got too much in it (hears Steven in kitchen) wonder what they're cooking. I'll go see. (gets up, looks at glass) That's an awful lot to drink. (sits down)

J: It's for you.

F: OK, I'll drink it down, but. . . would you like some of it? There's quite a bit of it in it. (puts glass on the floor) I just left it down the stairs. (picks up glass, drinks it) All out. We 'll put in one of your other things, in the kitchen.

J: What do you do in the kitchen?

F: Oh yeah. It's something that you stick up in your room, and everybody finds out. I try not to say things that are too funny, but they do bounce around. [telling me she has trouble finding words]

J: OK.

F: Can I do anything for your city? I'd like to go with you and do something with you. But I realize you have business to attend to and it makes it harder for you.

J: Thanks. What would you do?

F: I do sometimes if there's something new and it makes me makes me stop and think about it. I'm not as cold and hot as I was before. [she's telling me how hard it is to focus on what's happening]

J: Is that good?

F: For what?

J: Is having it cold or hot, good or bad?

F: I don't know what good or bad means. (looking at my laptop) It's probably DELL.

J: Who?

F: I don't know, somebody outside. (hears the neighbor boy skateboarding) They're throwing boards around, I think.

J: Hmm.

F: Did you want to appeal to this thing (holding glass) that this gentleman wants you to buy? [communicating her worry that I not get taken advantage of] And if I have a leaky nose I should have some kind of fluid that goes with it? [hates to have a runny nose, wants the Claritin nasal spray she used to take]

J: Hmm.

F: What are you reading?

End

So there you have it. Nothing exciting to hear. No deep dark (You are Stalin's love child) secrets revealed. No profound utterances of pure knowledge (The meaning of life is. . .) spill from her lips. Fran didn't have much brilliant life insight when she was young and healthy, why would that magically change in old age? I reckon that if Buddha were spending his golden years at the Sunny Meadows Assisted Living Facility, his old age ramblings might contain some bon mots.

Setting: Sunny Meadows Assisted Living Facility this evening.

Buddha, room 209: "Teach this triple truth to all: A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity."

Lamira, caregiver, evening shift: "Oh Mr. Buddha, you want to raise your arms? PJs on? Everybody go to bed now! See Mr. Jesus? Already sleeping!"

Buddha: "The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed."

Lamira, fake laughing, "Very funny Mr. Buddha, good night Mr. Buddha!" Turns out light, exits room.

Vacancy

Fanini is off visiting my brother and sister-in-law. Sanini and the boys are off visiting relatives. I've got the house to myself for 5 whole days! Here's my to do list:

1. Lie in (a clean) bed with an absorbing novel and an un-lidded drink.
2. Let the dishes stack up.
3. Look in the fridge at 7:45 p.m. and say, "hmm, what should I have for dinner"?
4. Tidy my bureau and put out fresh flowers in the irreplacable, fragile vases.
5. Decide to go to a movie on the spur of the moment.
6. Plan ambitious landscaping project. Stroll about the neighborhood plant nursery.
7. Clean the kitchen floor. Once.
8. Get all my personal ablutions completed before exiting the house.
9. Call lots of people on the phone.
10. Make a list of everything that has to get done. Write blog instead.

Yes, I've pretty much got that list completed. Except for the flowers. I couldn't be bothered to pick them. That smacks of yard maintenance, and I'm on vacation.

I'm reminded of my dad's joke about vacation: First prize--One Week's Vacation! Second Prize--Two Weeks' Vacation.

The quiet is nice, but I'd rather not do this long term. I'd rather be with my people.

Full Disclosure

I didn't start out blogging under the name "Janini". In fact I started blogging using my real name. But Karen convinced me that I should use an alias, because of safety and privacy issues. I never fully agreed with this--I think anonymity can equal irresponsibility. I have noticed that other bloggers use their real names. Or at least I assume it is their real names. But what about my family? My sons and my mom would not be capable of expressing whether or not they want their names on the internet. My husband argues that some level of privacy should exist, worried about identity theft or things I might discuss and his coworkers and family might read.
So I'm taking comments. What do you feel about the blogger's mask?

How to Order Medication

Here's why eldercare (or anycare) takes so much time.

Fanini is out of her meds, meds she is required to take consistently.

Thursday: Notice that meds need ordering. Forget.

A Week Thursday: Notice that meds really need ordering. Get paperwork with Rx numbers and account numbers.

Friday: Call P___ S____ to order meds. Since W's great Medicare reconstruction, all Medicare patients who get prescription medication must have a Drug Provider. This is a private drug insurance company. That is to say, if you want Medicare to pay for drugs, you have to sign up with an insurance company. Your insurance provider does have specific guidelines about what they will and will not cover, where you can buy it and how much. This is, of course, assuming you are able to get signed up in the first place. It took literally months of communications with the doctor/pharmacy/myself/my sister to get all the paperwork filed, web ordering set up, prescriptions written, payment logged, passwords verified, etc. So. Back to Friday. Get paperwork to order prescription, notice that in order to pay by check you have to call P_____ S_____ to get a price. Call P_____ S_____. Talk to LaShirell, who will not discuss Fanini's prescription anything unless Fanini's HIPAA (http://www.hipaa.org/) form is updated, even though I am listed on the account and have ordered meds before. LaShirell insists on talking to Fanini, even though Fanini can't talk. I threaten to cancel the account. LaShirell gives me a customer service number to call. Call customer service. They aren't open.
Monday: Call customer service. No answer. Leave message.
Later Monday: Get call from Susan, grovelling customer service agent. Says LaShirell was wrong to deny me access to the account, says HIPAA form only needed the address updated. I update address. Susan gives me total amount due. I make a copy of the form for my records, fax a copy to Sister J. with the check number written on it. Decide to program fax machine with Sister J.'s fax number, so I don't have to keep looking it up every time. Can't figure out how to program speed dial. Google Hewlett Packard all-in-one fax copier, search and find manual and speed dial programming instructions. Program speed dial and fax copy. Write check, address envelope. Put in mail. Collapse.

Some Practical Information: Plan? What Plan?

End of life planning is a complicated subject. Before I started living it, through my parents, it all seemed very scary and abstract--what does "incontinence" mean in real time? Watching them move into dementia-land, I've learned a lot about end of life planning, and how good planning can make for a good end of life for everyone involved. This is the first in a series of blogs exploring and dissecting a real person's end of life experience. Hopefully the knowledge I've learned will be more than just an interesting read.

Picture your ideal old age, and keep your options open. Back in the old days, both Manini and Fanini said that they didn't want to live in a retirement home. I think this was because their idea about nursing homes was based on the old Dickensian concept of nursing homes. They feared the nursing home, and closed their minds to this option. As I've learned, there are lots of variations of "nursing homes". There are co-housing type nursing homes, there are miniature city types of nursing homes. There's even a cruise ship nursing home. As the boomers age, I expect to see all kinds of wacky nursing homes: extreme sport nursing homes, anyone? Who knows what eldercare will look like in the future.

Death is unpredictable. Both my parents said that they would rather commit suicide than die crazy and infirm. Dementia made it so they were unable to take any steps to make that happen. They were at the mercy of their illness. Plus, since they both had dementia, the murder-suicide pact was no longer an option. What's your plan? Die at home surrounded by your loved ones? Keel over from a heart attack while climbing the Pyramid at Cheops? Maybe it will happen the way you want it too, but its probably a good idea to have a backup plan.

I don't want to be a burden on my children. So my parents always said, but they didn't make it happen. As a result, I've got a full-time job caring for my mom, which has had a huge impact on my life, my family, my marriage, etc. It breaks my heart to go see my dad, because he so desperately wants to go home, to be with his people. It hurts because I'm stretched to my limit and I can't solve this for him. My parents decided to go it alone, to not make a plan, and they set in motion the course they most wanted to avoid: to be the biggest burden and heartbreak of all.

Make it happen, start your plan now, write it down. I'd say death is even more inevitable than taxes. In fact, there's no guarantee you'll even make it to next April 15th! Procrastination and denial make it harder on you and your loved ones. Years ago, when my siblings and I were trying to convince my dad to make a will, I asked my dad about his end of life plans. He said, "I'm not going to make any plans, I'm just going to die and leave it all behind." Shocked, I shot back, "you mean, after you die you'd dump all that other stuff in my lap, at a time when I'll be so emotionally distraught I won't be able to think straight!?!" I've learned that end of life planning is a team sport, so enlist as many teammates as you can; children, friends, accountants, lawyers, doctors, etc. The more input, the more options you'll discover.

Next time, Part II: Who's Gonna Change My Diapers?

Down from Mt. Prozac

My sister came to visit, and I remarked to her that spring felt especially lush and regenerative this year. She said, "maybe that's because it is for you." It was an amazingly sage thing for her to say, and really hit the nail on the head.
Recently, I've started going to a naturopath. I'm taking steps to improve my health, and restore my vim and vigor. And I'm stopping the Zoloft. If you are unfamiliar with Zoloft (http://www.medicinenet.com/sertraline/article.htm), it is one the many SSRI forms of medication (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SSRI) used to treat depression. Many people in the United States take SSRIs, in fact, they are the number 1 prescribed drug in the U.S. http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/07/09/antidepressants/index.html. I can see why. When Fran came to die with me, I had to deal with the physical challenge of absorbing her into my family, and did not have enough energy to tackle the clot of feelings I have about my mother. I'm glad I took the Zoloft, I don't know how I would have made it otherwise. It enabled me to put my feelings into cold storage for a year, and accomplish the task at hand. I know a lot of moms take SSRIs, just so they can cope with the kids. It's how you get through the day without smacking the little angels. Zoloft gently swaddles you in bubble wrap.
Now my feelings are coming back, and I am greeting them with curiosity. I get livid now. I feel exuberant now. I am forced to learn how to handle my bad feelings, and I'm really enjoying the bursts of good feelings. Is there a pill that will magically teach me how to be Zen? Do I have to become a Buddhist? I believe that humans are like electricity: they seek the path of least resistance. I am intrinsically lazy and seek the smoothest road I can coast down, preferably in a limo, driven by a chauffeur. Experiencing and processing emotions is hard work--physically hard. I'm tired, I crave sweets, I've gained 20 pounds, I want a new drug. Do I really have to do this? Steven loves quote Nietzsche at me: "that which does not destroy me, makes me stronger". Smartass. I tell him to get me a beer.

Holiday in Grief

Now that things within my family have settled a bit, I feel like I have more time and gumption to devote to my inner life. I've got a lot of Prozac Swap Certificates to cash in. So I'm taking a Holiday in Grief.

Most travelers who have been to Grief will tell you that it's always a bummer. When your friends tell you they are going to Grief for a vacation, you never say: "Wow, that's great, I'd love to go there!" You know they are in for months of misery. In fact, this year's official advertising slogan of the Visit Grief Council sums it up: "Grief: For the Hurt of Your Life."

Just getting to Grief is painful. The shocking route gets you there the fastest: Loved one dead in an automobile accident; huge layoffs at work; significant other leaving you for a rock star; etc. But there's also the scenic route: Lengthy terminal illness; realization your youth is behind you; never making pro; etc. The slow route is the 30-year mortgage of pain. The term payoff is the same, but the pain dribbles out day by day instead of exploding all at once. But it doesn't matter what route you take, they'll all bring you to Grief, sooner or later.

It's easy to get lost in Grief. Some travellers to Grief take the bypass, but I don't recommend this. The problem with the bypass is that it spits you out in Denial. The only way back home is through Grief, anyway, so just save your time and go through Grief.

Still, what can you say about a country who's national dishes are chocolate ice cream, pasta and wine? The Grief National Academy of Cuisine produces more comfort food chefs than any other country in the world. Try the all-you-can-eat buffets that every Grief restaurant offers. On the flip side, people also go there for the weight-loss program. Pounds and inches can be lost quite rapidly with out any hunger pangs. I think the weight loss program in Grief is even faster than the weight loss program in Love. Aside from the food, though, there's lots of cool stuff to be bought in Grief. Cars, clothing, and weekends at spas are all hot items in Grief. Credit cards make it easy to postpone the consequences of overspending.

The thing is, though, you never forget your time in Grief. A reminder pops up; maybe a picture of your lost loved one or wrinkle in your face. Your heart will constrict and you'll feel like you're right back in Grief. The Grief Advertising Council had it right with last year's advertising motto: "Once you've been to Grief, you'll always go back."