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Managing The Stress ~ Making The Decisions ~ Discovering The Meaning |
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Caregiving |
Solutions To Your Caregiving Situations Throughout Your Caregiving Years |
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Sometimes, it is funny! Your Stories
We asked family caregivers to share their favorite caregiving funnies. Here's what they said: My mom had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. There was an enormous lesion on her right femur that threatened structure, among other things. If this big, weight bearing bone were to break, not only would we be dealing with a broken bone, but a pathological fracture, meaning the cancer had eaten away at the healthy bone, so it would take considerably longer to heal. Plus, the added bonus of soft tissue damage or, worst case scenario, hemorrhage and/or infection. So, this kept Mom in a wheelchair; an old, really bad shaped one from the local fire department. I personally think that bunch should stick to fighting fires instead of donating things with square wheels. Mom's routine in the morning included a shower, and the only one she could use was in my bathroom where the shower stall had built in "seats." One particular morning after loading her into her wheelchair, I started the procession...through the living room, dining room, a sharp northwesterly turn (hairpin) around a corner into my bedroom where conveniently located was a large wardrobe. It's kind of like driving up on those ramps in the car wash, the ones where you've got 65 people waiting their turn for you while you're trying to find that "sweet spot" in which to make the "stop" sign light up. I hit it just off a quarter inch. The chair became really stuck, and I do mean stuck, in the door to my bedroom. That wasn't the worst of it; I couldn't get in to help Mom out and over to the bed so I could fold this dinosaur up. Mom was upset, and panic began to set in around me. Said wheelchair with Mom in it wasn't moving, at least not with her in it. It got scary for a moment, but I had her walk all of 10 feet to the bed while I folded things up. The rest was pretty much uneventful. But I had to cackle for some time afterward! Mom, break-free, found little humor in that situation. About a year or so after her diagnosis, I took Mom for a radiation treatment, and stopped at a donut shop on the way. There was no parking in the front, so I pulled "Miss Daisy", the big white Cadillac, around the side. "Mom," I asked. "You want one of those cinnamon fries?" "No," she replied. "I'm feeling a little nauseous." The warning lights came on, and I raced around to the back seat where I grabbed the pan, one of several things on board that I referred to as the "Puke Accouterments." I flung it out, opened the passenger door, and dropped it on her lap. The predicted happened, and as I stood there with one hand on the open car door and the other on her back, these two men walked around the side of the building...in suits and ties. You could almost hear the breaks come on when they heard what was going on, and the one loosed his tie and quickly backed up, double time. The other stepped foreword, obviously uncomfortable, but managed to ask in a pinched voice if everything was all right. I calmly explained the dilemma, and that yes, we'd be fine. I had to smile and nod at him to get him to go away. But, once they'd left I took the opportunity to clean things up, dealt with Round Number Two, repeated the previous action, then went in and got myself a doughnut. On the way out, I noticed this enormous plate glass window that spanned the entire front of the shop and shuddered at the thought of clearing it out if I'd parked in the front, in plain view of all those hungry customers. By Gretchen Herrman (Gretchen's mom died this past January) I took my husband, Stan and our little doxie, Pippi, out in the country for a walk. There are sidewalks, but the area hasn't been developed. Stan had just started wearing Depends. I looked up and another family had turned their huge dog loose to go for a walk. Our car was about one block away and I grabbed Pippi to get her back to the car. I told Stan I would come back and get him. When I put Pippi in the car I looked back and here is Stan trying to walk with his Depends and sweats down around his feet. I quickly looked up to see if anyone at Denny's two blocks away could see him. They couldn't. We could either laugh or cry and when I laughed about Stan's predicament, he laughed too. Since then I have been able to see many incidents in an amusing light rather than a sad one. Laughter is good for the soul and it sure does release a lot of tension. --By Jean Lind To tell about my funniest story I will preface it by saying I don't know whether it should be funny or not...but I laugh a lot about it. Early on in my dad's illness he would often want a snack. One day I made him peanut butter toast. He was eating it when all of a sudden he couldn't get it swallowed easily. It had stuck in his mouth. After I gave him a drink and he got it all down, I was sitting next to him thinking about the peanut butter and how dogs get it on the roof of their mouth. The dog will lick and lick and lick which is very amusing. I sat there and busted up laughing. My dad looks at me like, What's up? I told him the story I was thinking and we both laughed. He said,"Well...Too much peanut butter." --By Lennda Bauer First a little background: My Mother went to have her hair done once a week--always! When she was in the hospital for what turned out to be the last time, she had been unresponsive for two days. On the third day she seemed to be having an "awakening". The next day she asked me what day it was and I told her that it was Wednesday. She lifted her head up off the pillow and said, "I have a hair appointment today!" It was all I could do to keep from laughing. We had always said that when my Mother refused to eat or didn't have her hair done, then we would worry. We had a good day that day and the next. She died at the end of the following week. My husband John has been becoming increasingly more dependent but I
try to let him do as many things on his own as possible. The other day I
saw him headed into the bathroom and I reminded him to use the wipes in
the blue package that I had gotten for him. After a few minutes I decided
that I'd better go check on him. I opened the bathroom door just in time
to see him pull a Clorox Wipe from the package. The packages were both on
the hamper beside the toilet and they were both in blue packaging. I
stopped him just in time! That would have been a stinging lesson to say
the least. --By Sue Burnett As a background, Mom's in the nursing home from a series of strokes that have left her unable to walk without constant supervision. Mom's pretty much in a wheelchair now but can do transfers in/out of cars with assistance. Mom wears a leg brace on one leg, so it is cumbersome for her to move the leg freely. Mom is a complex medical case; I wish the strokes were all we had to worry about, but I won't get into the details of her situation here. Anyway, she is in the nursing home now, and it has been a very hard adjustment for her and all of us. Therefore, we decided to take Mom away from the NH scene and get her back into "society" for an evening. My older sister and I took my Mom out shopping to Kohl's department store on the Saturday before Easter Sunday last year. I took the wheelchair out of the trunk and proceeded to "assemble" it properly while Mom prepared to get out of the car. I carefully assisted Mom out of the car into the wheelchair and placed her feet on the footrests. Only this time, I was really struggling trying to get Mom's feet up and onto the footrests of the chair. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Mom sat there assisting me as best she could in the struggle. Then I stood up, looked down at Mom in the chair, and noticed the foot rests. Each foot was sticking out to either side of the chair funny; just like shoes, I had the footrests on the wrong sides. Mom looked like she was trying to do the splits from the knees down. We all started laughing so hard that two families walking into the store asked us if anything was wrong. They couldn't tell if we were crying tears of laughter or tears of distress. One wonderful thing about my mom, sister, and me is that we are goofy nuts when we get together. We had Mom laughing all evening over silly stuff. A few times she was afraid she was going to "pee her pants" from laughing so hard. My sister and I really poured the silliness on thick for Mom's sake. The irony of this holiday is that although Mom has never been sicker, it was probably one of our best ones ever spent together. In years past, Mom or I were too busy cooking and cleaning to truly enjoy one another. This year, because of Mom's situation, we just focused on her, having fun, and to heck with cooking and cleaning. We really enjoyed ourselves. --By Sandy Matakovich It was in the middle of the fall in 1999. My husband, George, was able to get out of his wheelchair for short periods of time. We have a six-car garage that he insisted the "STUFF" inside be transported from one to another, back and forth, over and over, so he could sweep the concrete floor. My poor son lugged box after box, not being allowed to toss anything away, without complaint. One afternoon I had gone inside to make him some lunch, leaving him in his wheelchair, with our tenant, Steve, watching him. I looked out the window, as I heard Steve yell to George. He was in the garage, with the doors wide open, sweeping away, oblivious to the fact that his jeans had fallen to the floor. Thank God for FRUIT OF THE LOOM! With a warm heart I say, "Rest In Peace My Love. I will see you soon." --By Mary Dineen |
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