The waiting game

Once more, my parents flirted with the idea to have Dad move to Hospice House. Once more, the idea was abandoned for a free but ineffective solution. I know health care costs money, a lot of money, but is all the pain, drama and trauma worth it?

Dad called me yesterday to tell me it was probably the last time we were ever going to speak. So I collected the boys and we went over to the house to have this final conversation face to face. He was in a lot of pain...A LOT of pain. I don't understand why he isn't getting more pain medication. I don't know if it's my dad's choice to not remain so medicated that he can't feel anything, or if my mom's not giving him enough just so she can feed him (because she lives to feed), or if Hospice isn't leaving enough meds. I don't know because no one is answering any of my direct questions about this. And I don't know what to do about this. Obviously, someone wants to be in more control of this situation, so I'll let them have all the control.

I was at my EBT class in Folsom earlier in the week and we talked a little about guilt. Guilt was described as the emotion we feel when we don't do something the way we wish we could have done it. That helped me to realize some things about my relationship with my parents and my role as a part-time caregiver.

1. I shouldn't feel guilty about how my relationship with my parents has turned out. They had expectations about what the relationship would be, but they've done nothing that supports that level of closeness. I am only responsible for my side of the relationship.
2. It is inappropriate for me to step in to care for them to a degree that abandons my children and myself, or costs me money, especially if they can afford to pay for extra help for themselves.
3. I am not my mother's therapist. And I can't fix her, or choose how she is going to live her life after Dad is gone.
4. My parents are difficult people, despite their good hearts and religious beliefs.

I really am unable to help them without letting go of my sons and myself right now. Do I wish I could do more? I don't know. Yes and no. I wish I could find out exactly what was going on so that I could make sure my dad's pain-relief needs were met. I wish I could get inside my mother's head and straighten things out in there. I don't want to neglect my sons, because I'm their only involved parent and I need to be at home, in their lives, actually parenting them. I don't want to be so caught up in the stress of this whole situation because I can't sleep, I overeat from the stress, I've got constant headaches, I miss Pilates class and other opportunities to exercise and care for myself.

And I feel guilty that is seems like we're all just waiting around for Dad to die. There has to be a balance, between actively living my life and honoring my father at the end of his life. I can accept that this is a difficult time, and the emotional roller coaster will remain in play for some time. I know there are expectations of me, because they hover, unvoiced but menacing, whenever I go to my parents' house. Sometimes I can handle it, other times, not so much.

I'm grateful to the local Hospice people. All the volunteers and the entire organization do so much for the patients and their families. We're donating a car this month, and later, I'll be donating money. They really do great works!