Fear of the Unknown

We all fear what we don’t know… It’s natural… Yet, you were not afraid when Spring became Summer. You were not afraid when Summer became Fall. They were natural changes. Why should you be afraid of the season of death? ~Leo Buscaglia, American author, professor, and motivational speaker

I really must apologize for being so long absent from this wonderful blogging community.

Back in December, my mom went to the hospital and was there nearly 10 days before being transferred to a facility in town for rehab. She was there until early March, when they deemed her ready to resume life at home.

I had my doubts, but nothing I said mattered. Medicare insurance regulates much of the care for our seniors.

At first, Mom did okay. But when she found it challenging to navigate all our stairs and prepare light meals for herself, I took over. It wasn’t long before she climbed into her bed, refusing to leave it for anything but bathroom visits.

That meant I was carrying a tray of food up and down stairs three times a day. Fetching glasses of water for her pills. Answering the door when home care nurses, aides, and therapists arrived.

The longer she stayed abed, the worse her mood grew. She was afraid, and I didn’t know how to make things better because I was afraid for her.

You see, her diagnosis wasn’t good. Cancer. And she opted not to pursue surgical or diagnostic therapy because of her age and weakness.

Being “on call” 24 hours a day, seven days a week has exhausted me in ways I can’t fully grasp. No one — from the local electrician or accountant to the President or the Pope — has to put in that many hours without a break.

They shouldn’t have to.

Nor should I.

Besides the physical strain, I’m shouldering the emotional burden of realizing I’m losing her. And that one day, I’m going to be an “orphan.”

My only sibling is nearly 800 miles away, and she and Mom go at each other like oil and water. Playing peacemaker falls to me — another chore I didn’t ask for.

Recently, Mom reluctantly agreed to hospice, something that can support both of us in this difficult journey.

I’ll take all the help I can get.

You know, there are folks who gush over how “rewarding” caregiving is, but I’m not one of them. It’s hard, often thankless, work, and most times, I’m barely managing to tread water.

Out of the blue, I have fears I never had before: How is this stress affecting my health? Are we doing right by Mom in the long run? Am I irreparably neglecting my work, my friends, and Monkey so I can tend to Mom’s needs?

I’ve learned the importance of managing my fears by getting lost in a book; immersing myself in music, exercise, prayer; playing with Monk; and seeking the companionship of friends.

After a month on hospice, Mom decided to try immuno-therapy for the cancer. She revoked hospice and is rehabbing locally. I’m relieved to share the burden of her care with people more qualified than I, but I fear the treatment will be hard on a person her age … and might not be successful.

We will see.

So, forgive me for not visiting your blog-homes as often as I’d like and know I’m thinking of you and will return when I can.