Aging - revisited

I'll probably re-visit this theme a lot on this blog as it seems to be the dominant theme of my life at this point.

Morey is looking at the possibility of thyroid surgery for a very enlarged thyroid. Kaiser is doing all the tests to determine how big it is, whether or not it's malignant and what the best course of action should be.

The endocrinologist is in favor the thyroidectomy - as am I. But surgery is a daunting experience and Morey has been through a few. I can understand that he panics a little at the thought of more - or is it something else?

He asks me repeatedly when the surgery is going to be - and I repeatedly tell him that it's not scheduled and won't be until he has a PET scan (which hasn't even been scheduled yet)....and he asks me again.

I've have laryngitis for a few days now and I can't speak above a whisper - so I write notes. But he is oblivious - as always - but worse. I try to get his attention (I can't yell can I?) by waving my arms around - now you and I would notice this activity with our peripheral vision and look toward the movement. Not Morey. He's never been aware of his surroundings as much as most people are - but this is ridiculous.

This morning I sat across the breakfast table from him and he was reading the newspaper. I waved my arms to get his attention. Nothing. I clapped my hands to get his attention. Nothing. I finally threw my napkin at him and he looked up startled. Now we weren't more than 3 feet apart - you'd think he'd be aware of some activity across the table from him?

Don't laugh, but what if I were choking, or had a stroke, or a heart attack.
He'd finish reading his article - look up - and I'd be dead! Surprise, surprise.

Well, he's not going to change now. I don't think he ever was going to change but early in our marriage I thought he would. It reminds me of the old joke that "Men marry thinking their wives will never change; and women marry planning to change their husbands." Both are doomed to failure.

So I'm worried that he's getting some kind of dementia, senile or otherwise.
I know it's selfish, but that's going to be very hard on me. It was dreadful when my Mom deteriorated and I had to try and take care of her with all her paranoia, hallucinations and total craziness. I don't think I can go through that again. But I have no choice. It's for better or worse - and no bailing out now if worse is approaching.

He'd take care of me I know if it were reversed. Actually, that's given me some trepidation too.

As a nurse I've seen husbands "take care of their wives" - oy vey. They seem to think - generally - that keeping their wives clean and fed is what it's all about. Very few husbands I have ever encountered thought to play music, turn on the TV, take their wives for a ride in the country - not that these things "work". They didn't for my Mom - but I wracked my brain trying to think of things that she might enjoy on some level and providing them for her.

One of the last things she responded to was Mia - who was a baby at the time. But when Mia was brought to visit, my Mom "qvelled" - I don't know if she knew it was her great-grandchild, but she responded to "baby". I know I would too. I went to the lengths of paying for Carol to come visit as Mom had always had a special connection with her and I hoped she, Mom, would respond to Carol. She didn't.

But men - don't think the way women do. Although, I have seen some good male nurses - but I haven't seen many good male caregivers. On the contrary, there were a few but vastly outnumbered by shabby ones.

Maybe it's because women outlive men - or at least in that generation. So that there weren't many men required to take care of their wives. But I saw the beginnings of the Alzheimers' development and in those cases, the sexes acquired equality. Some of the best male caregivers were those men taking care of their wives with Alzheimers. I don't know why that should be - is it easier than strokes, or brain cancer?

Whatever, I don't want to be on the receiving end - more than I don't want to be the caregiver AGAIN. Maybe I could just arrange for a meteor to hit us both and quickly put us out of our misery.

I've seen so many families wracked with problems trying to care for aging parents. Young people with jobs, young kids, responsibilities - now trying to do their best for aging parents - or parent. There's not much out there to help them. There are some organizations that will provide respite care, or some activity to help the caregiver cope. But precious few.

Oh well. I'm lucky I have good kids - some in the vicinity - who would help me however, and whenever they could. It's just that I don't want to have to ask for help. I don't want to need help, either for me or for Morey. But, as I said, short of a meteor strike, I don't know how to avoid it.