One thing and another...

I joined a few caregivers email lists recently, although I've unsubscribed from all of them. I'm sure there are plenty of groups out there that aren't populated by neurotic, resentful, manipulative whiners -- I just had bad luck with the ones I checked out first.  I hope.

I'm not saying that I don't feel resentful at times, nor that I don't whine. But I like to think I'm neither neurotic nor manipulative, although I guess mixing protein powder into my mom's food without telling her might qualify as manipulative. But yo, woman cannot live on 10 grams of protein and 400 calories a day, and WTF else can I do?

See, I told you I whine.

Anyway, I went down to Los Angeles two weekends ago to talk to the SoCal BARF group. They're the Southern California equivalent of my own beloved SF Raw (which is, by the way, having a great September membership drive that you should check out; best source of humanely and sustainably raised meats and dairy products in the whole Bay Area, at incredible prices -- food for humans as well as pets), but they are more organized as a club than SF Raw is. They hold periodic educational events, and they invited me down to talk about my 23 years of holistic care and raw/homemade diets for my dogs and cats.

Now, I love public speaking. I feel a little nervous right before, but basically, I just love it. This one ran from 9-4 PM with a lunch break, and that was maybe just a tiny bit longer than I'd have liked it to -- my voice was a bit hoarse in that last hour -- but overall, I enjoyed it, and the audience seemed to as well.

My friend and colleague from Pet Connection, MSNBC.com pet columnist Kim Thornton, drove over, and seeing her made it even more fantastic -- as did spending the evening before with my friend Travis, who also lives in LA. I also got the chance to meet a friend in person I'd only talked with online, which was wonderful.

The club not only flew me down there and rented me a car, they put me up in a really lovely hotel -- well, lovely in every respect except the walls were made of paper and the noise was incredibly annoying. Given how utterly sleep-deprived I've been since my mom got sick -- as in, I haven't had enough sleep once in months -- I was really looking forward to my night in a hotel. Sad that it didn't happen.

But that aside, the most incredible thing to me was that the minute I got down there, I felt like myself again. I think that one of the hardest things for a caregiver is both realizing/remembering that there's a world outside the little bubble of illness in which we live with our loved one, and that we are still who we were before engaging in this task. I think that walking down the street with Travis and Jan looking for a restaurant was the first time I realized that yes, I'm still myself. Because while I probably wouldn't have phrased it this way, I think that there was an unconscious assumption that life will be like this forever now, and I'll never have my own autonomous existence ever again.

Of course I knew on an intellectual level that's not true. Either my mom will respond to her treatment -- which is what seems to be happening right now -- and she'll have more independence and thus, so will I, or she won't, and this will end in a less happy way. And ultimately what she has isn't curable, although we're all hoping that she's going to be one of the lucky majority who gets years rather than months of good quality of life while being treated.

Since we started seeing the oncologist at UCSF Breast Care Center and my mom began taking Femara, her fractures are healing or healed, and her pain is almost gone or at least, under control. Given the months she went without being diagnosed and no treatment for the crippling, paralyzing pain other than Advil, that's a miracle. All her current symptoms are really related to either her medication -- not the cancer drug, but the opiates she's being given for her pain -- or to a constant battle we're having with bladder infections.

Unfortunately, those problems aren't minor, and result in a majority of nights being sleepless for both of us, many trips to the ER and the doctor's office, and a lot of pain and tears. But right now, as far as the cancer and the terrible pain go, she's much better, and we're about to begin the difficult task of helping her rebuild her strength and stamina after months huddled in a chair, trying not to even breathe because of the incredible pain in her fractured sternum.

I feel and, I think, sound pretty happy today, but last night I was a fall-down mess. That's the other thing I've realized, that I live not just day to day but moment to moment. That's good, because when things are good, I feel it. It's bad, because sometimes I don't see the overall progress of the situation, and can become a little reactive instead of having plans -- even though of necessity all plans have to be very flexible these days.

One thing the trip to LA taught me is that caregivers need to leave the bubble periodically, to connect with life and friends and normalcy. That trip really recharged me not in an energy way -- I came home pretty tired -- but psychologically. It made me feel normal again. Unfortunately, the minute I got home, and I do mean MINUTE, my mom kind of crashed with one of her medication side effects. I was up with her all night long, and then we spent 12 hours the next evening and night at the ER, a story I'm not going to tell here because it's too aggravating, but let's just say it sucked utterly and leave it at that.

Once that crisis was over, I began interviewing respite caregivers until I found someone my mom and I both liked and trusted. It wasn't easy -- we went through quite a few until we found this person. The agency requires a minimum of 12 hours a week, which is really pushing it for me financially, but I'm giving it a try. It gives me a few hours in the week I can truly count on being free of interruptions (barring an emergency), which allows me to do things like schedule interviews and get on conference calls and meet deadlines. It's not enough, and it's more than I can afford, although I did recently discover that I can deduct it on my taxes. Not sure how much that will save me, exactly, but at least it takes the edge off.

There is a lot more going on, but delving into it is so depressing I'll just cut it short there. I will say that I was pretty disappointed in the local Scottish Deerhound community. I asked for someone to bring a deerhound to visit my mom, as we've lost our last deerhound Rebel and she needs some cheering up, and not one person in the Bay Area came through. I heard from people all over the country who said they wished they were closer, and one breeder who has some puppies being placed out here soon who said her new puppy buyers will bring them by for some kisses when they get here, so that's lovely, but still... after more than 2 decades in the breed, it's kind of broken my heart that no one could do this for my mother.

Okay, last thing, I promise. (Can you tell I'm a bit starved for conversation, LOL?) I have puppy fever BAD. I realize that my life is too chaotic and stressful to bring a puppy into it, and even an adult would be rough since they, too, need a period of acclimation and it would be awfully rough on my Borzoi, Kyrie, to go through that right now, as she'd had to make a lot of adjustments already since my mom got ill and Rebel died. But when I lie in bed at night trying to shut off my mind and fall asleep, what does it for me is remembering raising my first litter, the sheer joy of having all those tiny deerbabies scrabbling up my legs to get to me, of seeing their mama dog nuzzling them with her long nose... those were some of the happiest days of my mother's and my lives.

Hmmm, maybe I really do just need a puppy after all...

Puppy photo is of Geordie, who wasn't actually my puppy, but was sired by a dog I bred. He was 6 months old when his breeder/owner took the photo.

Comments

[Susan]

At the risk of repeating myself, my mom was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer at the end of last December, and she was gone by the end of April. I am sending my best positive thoughts to you and your mom that she responds well to treatment. I was not in your shoes, as a caregiver; there was some frustration to not having input, but my sister truly had the worst of all worlds, trying to care for my mom and having my dad ride mom's coat-tails, and dealing with almost every one of the symptoms and conditions you described. (UTIs, constipation, refusal to eat, weakness). I wish I could give you a big hug. And yes, if I wasn't on the other coast I would bring my doggies over there in a heartbeat, though they are about as un-deerhoundlike as dogs come. My Frenchie loooves to snuggle. I don't know what I can do from here but if you ever want to talk to someone who has been in similar shoes, shoot me an email or face book message.

[K.P.]

I'm with you on puppy fever. My husband and I are finally getting to a point in our newlywed lives where finances are evening out, we're not out of the house 14 hours a day, and we're making plans to buy our own house. My husband jokes that I don't want *A* dog, I want EVERY dog. Sending hugs for you and your mom- being a caregiver for an ailing parent is so hard, please take every advantage to step outside that "bubble" that you possibly can.

[TheWeyrd1]

I have neither the time nor the energy to make my own dog food. Right now I'm feeding my little Tucker, Kumpi which is supposed to be all natural and is made by a woman here in the Denver area. I've since heard, that while it's okay, there are better options. Do you know of a good brand of dog food for small (about 10 lbs) dogs?

[Mcappy]

I feel your pain. It's virtually impossible to force anyone to eat. I'm in the same boat with trying to get my mother to eat. If you're considering supplements wander in the hospital side of UCSF and ask someone for a sample of TWO CAL HN made by Ross...it's like Ensure but you get twice the kick in KCal and Protein. The other option if your mother dislikes "milky-type" stuff is Promod also made by Ross. It's superconcentrated fruit punch try not to dilute it more than you need otherwise it defeats the purpose of buying it. It is $$$ but I've had some success with getting it consumed and improved labs/weight over 3 wks with 3-4 oz/day. Another option which is a powder is SCANDISHAKE...good luck.
oh yeah and remember borrowing/visiting puppies may hold off your fix for while.

[keenwell]

I just shudder to think of how long your mom endured such pain. I also can relate to how you feel about caregiver sites. I care for a mom with Alzheimer's and the major listserv can be helpful, but also includes lots of what feels to me like bossy advice, so I don't tune in often. I am sorry you lost Rebel in the midst of all of this. I am sorry your family is having such a difficult time. Just want you to know there is a caring reader out here, though I am late in catching up on all of this.