What I have learned so far this week:
1. Don’t tell someone you’ll visit them in the nursing home and never actually get yourself there because you’re too afraid it’s going to smell like urine and depress the hell out of you. Think how they feel.
On second thought, maybe they get used to the smell and it doesn’t bother them. The way people with cats have no idea their house smells like a litter box. Oh, shit. I just insulted half my readers. Not YOUR cat. Other peoples’. You have a cat?
2. Don’t put off calling the infirmed. They might get transferred to a less expensive facility after they’ve lost their marbles. You’ll call, get a disconnected number, cry on your couch, beat yourself up for contributing to someone else’s miserable, boring, lonely death. I want to die doing something I love. Not staring at a ceiling whose cracks I’ve memorized. Unless…nevermind.
3. Don’t assume people are dead.
4. The real live voice of someone who you thought was dead is the sweetest sound on earth.
5. Nursing homes have strange rules. Find out what they are and break them. (Another blog.) Do this as a proactive measure. They’ll have risk management meetings and resolve to never allow your return to the building. When it’s your turn to check in, you’ll already be blacklisted. Your kids will have to take care of you.
At no cost to you, here is my long-term plan to never wind up in a nursing home:
When my kids are sick I give them a little bell to ring whenever they need anything. I can go about my business on the other end of the house. They ring it if they need anything, usually as soon as I have my hands in raw meat, or when I’m up on a chair changing a lightbulb.
I need a reply bell strapped to my waist. I can skake it like Shakira for “Give me three minutes, my hands are in raw meat” or just a quick hip tilt jingle for “I’m on my way.”
My kids think I’m deaf, so they ring their bell until I walk in the room. We’re still working out the kinks but it’s a step up from smoke signals.
I don’t want my boys to think they’re going to get this kind of service from their wife. I hope they don’t blindly go into a marriage expecting it, like their dad did. I just want them to learn how I’m going to need things when they’re taking care of ME.
When my husband gets sick, it is a window into the relationship he had with his mother whenever he was ill. I can tell that my mother-in-law sweet-talked my husband when he was sick. Pampered, babied, checked in on him, adjusted the blinds and brought him a stack of National Geographics and Scientific Americans and cold compresses and a softer pair of socks.
I can tell because his expectations when he’s sick lean in that direction and I don’t seem to get it because my mom was a nurse and a healthnut and she loved having a house to herself when her seven kids were in school. We were never home sick unless we were throwing up. I don’t throw up. I can’t. I never. But I can spike a fever, so that was my ticket to a day home with Nurse Mom the Healthnut.
She would bring me milkshakes. Stop right there. It’s not what you’re thinking. These milkshakes contained no ice cream. ARE YOU KIDDING? Raw eggs, brewer’s yeast, wheat germ, yogurt and lumps of frozen strawberries. We were supposed to drink it and get better. She had a lot of tricks like that to get her house back.
For lunch it was more homemade plain yogurt, sweetened with honey. I hate honey. There was no sweet-talking, no catering, no “is there anything else I can get for you? Real food, perhaps? I am totally at your service, focused solely on your needs until you stop suffering and feel better again.”
None of that. My mother was the one suffering here. There was a kid in a bed upstairs interrupting her alone time, which meant she was going to have to go up and down that staircase when she had other things to do. Like make a new batch of homemade cat food, put it in freezer containers and label them. There was more food in that freezer for the cat to eat than there was for us.
I am a mix of those two types. A compound of 90% mother-in-law, 10% Nurse Healthnut. When my 13-year old was home from school last week with a sore throat and fever, I let him sleep in my bed with the remote and the TV and handed him a plate of mixed grain toast with hummus and a little bell to ring if he needed me while I was blogging so he wouldn’t have to yell. I said, when I handed him the bell: “Your wife is going to hate me.”
My plan is that he won’t come to expect the royal treatment when he’s married but he’ll be able to give it to me when he’s taking care of me. I already know which child I’m going to live with in my dotage. My high-maintenance child. Duh. Payback.
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Funny post. My husband definitely regresses when he is ill. I used to get him whatever he needed and constantly check up on him. He is rarely sick and when he is, its pretty bad. He becomes very demanding and wants lots of attention. Now with a five month old and a two year old when he is sick I am more likely to just be annoyed now rather than sympathetic.
My husband SO wants me to poor-you him and get him cool cloths and I don’t know, spoon-feed him broth or something?
I can’t. I am a Mean Nurse. I am of the opinion that You Can Get Off The GD Couch, Because Fresh Air Will Not Kill You and May Make You Stronger. And You Can’t Be That Sick If You’re On The Computer All Day.
See? I’m Nurse Rachet. He *haaates* it. I think my MIL (God rest her soul) may have spent the days he came home from school with the sniffles brushing his hair or something.
Cod liver oil? ICK. My mother’s thing was iron. Apparently, my brother and I were going to D-I-E if we didn’t have enough iron. We either had to eat a handful or raisins a day or eat a spoonful of molasses.
SHUDDER.
You made me remember the castor oil my mom made me eat by the teaspoon-full when I was little. How gross!! I do think most men are babies while sick, they are used to be cared for, not caring for others.
LOL! I have 4 kids, so I think I’ll just rotate. I do pamper the kids, but I don’t go overboard. Thankfully, my kids are all pretty mellow when they’re sick. My husband has only been sick (bedridden type of illness) about 3 times during our 21 years of marriage. He doesn’t feel pain like normal people do, so when he’s sick, you know he’s REALLY sick. Sadly, he expects me to be up and running when I’m sick, too. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’re sick.” Yep, he really did say that one time. I think it worth noting that he has never said that again, LOL! I have to say that when the now seven-year-old was born, he really picked up the slack, grocery shopping and making meals when he was home.
So, are we going to hear about the actual visit to the nursing home???
Hmmm… it might work. The only thing is, with any luck your conscience will kick in and you won’t be able to do that to your kid. Even the high-maintenance one! I tell mine I’m going to rotate– three months a year with each, but really, I wouldn’t do it to them. I’ve been caregiving for almost 20 years, and I’d rather live in a doghouse than do it to my children.
Not me. I’m too sensory sensitive to live in an institution. Maybe I couldn’t do that to my kids for real. But when it was time to go into an institution I’d go hang gliding and hope to crash as a first resort. Where do I sign? Now send me off!
That kind of treatment could work in your future DIL’s favor. I know my MIL doted on my hubby when he was sick as a kid (and yes, he does have a little of that expectation still there), but now when I am sick he waits on me hand and foot! It’s awesome. And when I was preggers, forget it! I didn’t have to lift a finger.
So yay for you AND your future daughter-in-law!
I love your blog, by the way. I have been ninja following you for weeks and you always cheer me up in the mornings! So thanks!
Dear Thora,
Ninja following is nothing to be ashamed of. I, too, am a member of the Ninja Following Club. We must be stealthy, yes, but I soooo appreciate when people come out of the woodwork, so THANKS! And thanks for letting me know I won’t be screwing up my kids’ marriages before they’re even married!
Amusing… I’m pro-active on the nursing. “You feeling ok? I know, how about this remedy or that tea.” LOL! The preventatives taste bad enough. They don’t dare get sick!
I go hog wild on the supplements and herbs when my kids get sick. I was so thrilled when they could finally swallow a capsule so I didn’t have to open them up and mix them with yogurt. Oh…wait…maybe I’m not only 10% Nurse Healthnut. Deny deny deny!
All very amusing, but the last line was like the sweetness at the bottom of the pie (nice steal from a book I’m reading). Payback to the high maintenance child – I like that, having quite a variety myself! The problem with that logic is that the low maintenance child is usually the more-thoughtful-of-others child too. The low maintenance child will probably be a better caretaker. Isn’t life just so unfair?!
What’s the name of the book?
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley. It was one I picked out browsing on Amazon. I just liked the title!
I’m convince that men must feel pain and sickness more than women because how else can you explain their utter helplessness at the merest sniffle?
I like your plan. Do tell about breaking the rules at the retirement home.
Did you ever see that hilarious video from the BBC called The Man Cold? It’s documented how much more men suffer will the same cold that a woman contracts.
Your mom sounds like a smart lady! 7 kids..wow. I’m definitely a mix of her and pampering them a bit. Funny post!
Practical Catholic. Pratholic.
I am very bad with the smell of nursing homes. Just popping over from mommy Bloggers Club. I am now following. Come check my blog out sometime.
OMG, when Doug gets sick, I get bitchy because then he asks for crap that he won’t even make for himself! Grrr! Whiny ass too. When I am sick he spends as much time away from the house as he can.
There’s a blog in there Tawnya. A revenge blog about the time you special made him something he won’t make for himself, and you mistakenly put tabasco sauce in it instead of mayo. I’ve heard of that happening.
Amusing Amy
I so agree with you on the visiting of those in nursing homes.
When it comes to a sick husband, I’m a little more of a get-the-hell-up-and-do-it-yourself kind of nursemaid … unless he’s REALLY sick (not just doing the whiny man thing) or he’s in a leg cast … like he is now … for the next SIX WEEKS!!
My husband is home with nerve damage on his arm after getting his blood drawn and his arm’s in a sling. I’m not buying into the whole “I can’t, can you?” thing, because when I had a baby in one arm, I was still able to make pancakes and talk on the phone, so I’m having trouble being thoughtful about, or regarding, this one-armedness as a disability.