Low Point
If you are a regular visitor to my blog, you've probably noticed that as of late most of the entries are movie reviews, some of them which are complete and others which are essentially "teasers" which contain links to the original versions at Epinions. Over the past few months, that's all that I've really been doing; I've written a few "op-ed" columns about Trayvon Martin and the civil war in Syria, but not much else which can be called original blog content.
If this disappoints some (or all) of you, I apologize. I started this blog last year with every intention of providing a variety of entries that weren't limited to movie reviews and/or the creative process. I wanted to explore all kinds of topics which may be of interest to a diverse audience, and that is still my hope, because I want this blog to, as the Vulcans say on Star Trek, "live long and prosper."
However, I must point out that this is possibly one of the lowest points of my life. My mom's health, which has been declining over the past seven years, has taken a turn for the worse. She's been confined to a hospital-type bed for over two years now after back surgery, and even though she was making progress in 2011, a (stupid) mishap with her wheelchair resulted in a broken ankle and long-lasting psychological consequences. Worse still, she is exhibiting signs that she's either suffering from dementia or the early stages of Alzheimer's disease.
I will not go into detail about her symptoms; there are too many to list and I don't really have the time or inclination to write an entire blog entry about them. I can say this, though: things here are getting worse on a daily basis, and they are taking a toll on me in every aspect of my life, including my abilities to work, relax, or even socialize.
The biggest issue that I have right now is that my mom has become more demanding and difficult to deal with. She and I still get along better than she does with my older half-sister. That family dynamic has been a constant all my adult life, and readers who have one or more siblings can probably relate. Maybe that's why Mom seems to be clinging to me more and demands a great deal of my attention, time and energy - even when there are aides (provided by both the State of Florida and Easter Seals) present.
Over the past six months, my mom has been in a very depressive state. She is not interested in getting out of her bed (even though the physical therapists she sees three times a week tell her to get out of her room and move around the house more). She doesn't eat enough even though we get donated meals and I cook at least four times a week. She gets inexplicably angry over the most trivial of things and even says she wants to commit suicide or hurt herself. It's getting too hard to bear, and yet I must try to bear her pain, anger and frustration because she is, after all, my mom.
The worst thing of all is that people are starting to notice. Last night, for example, the evening aide who has the 5-7 PM shift told me that she was shocked to overhear my mom telling me that she hated me and that I should leave her house immediately one night because she thought it was 10:30 PM (it was actually 7:30 PM) and wanted her nighttime medicines. On that occasion, no matter how much I tried to show her the correct time and explain to her that she could not have her pills that early, she had such a fit of fury that her blood pressure shot up to 188/96 and required a dose of Norvasc.
The next day, of course, she did not remember any of this and greeted me as sweetly as she (almost) always does. However, these incidents are becoming more and more frequent, and almost always in the evenings when we are alone.
I'm tired. I'm nervous and feeling overwhelmed . I haven't really had too many good days lately. Writing is increasingly difficult; I'm not able to focus on work as well as I would like to.
If this disappoints some (or all) of you, I apologize. I started this blog last year with every intention of providing a variety of entries that weren't limited to movie reviews and/or the creative process. I wanted to explore all kinds of topics which may be of interest to a diverse audience, and that is still my hope, because I want this blog to, as the Vulcans say on Star Trek, "live long and prosper."
However, I must point out that this is possibly one of the lowest points of my life. My mom's health, which has been declining over the past seven years, has taken a turn for the worse. She's been confined to a hospital-type bed for over two years now after back surgery, and even though she was making progress in 2011, a (stupid) mishap with her wheelchair resulted in a broken ankle and long-lasting psychological consequences. Worse still, she is exhibiting signs that she's either suffering from dementia or the early stages of Alzheimer's disease.
I will not go into detail about her symptoms; there are too many to list and I don't really have the time or inclination to write an entire blog entry about them. I can say this, though: things here are getting worse on a daily basis, and they are taking a toll on me in every aspect of my life, including my abilities to work, relax, or even socialize.
The biggest issue that I have right now is that my mom has become more demanding and difficult to deal with. She and I still get along better than she does with my older half-sister. That family dynamic has been a constant all my adult life, and readers who have one or more siblings can probably relate. Maybe that's why Mom seems to be clinging to me more and demands a great deal of my attention, time and energy - even when there are aides (provided by both the State of Florida and Easter Seals) present.
Over the past six months, my mom has been in a very depressive state. She is not interested in getting out of her bed (even though the physical therapists she sees three times a week tell her to get out of her room and move around the house more). She doesn't eat enough even though we get donated meals and I cook at least four times a week. She gets inexplicably angry over the most trivial of things and even says she wants to commit suicide or hurt herself. It's getting too hard to bear, and yet I must try to bear her pain, anger and frustration because she is, after all, my mom.
The worst thing of all is that people are starting to notice. Last night, for example, the evening aide who has the 5-7 PM shift told me that she was shocked to overhear my mom telling me that she hated me and that I should leave her house immediately one night because she thought it was 10:30 PM (it was actually 7:30 PM) and wanted her nighttime medicines. On that occasion, no matter how much I tried to show her the correct time and explain to her that she could not have her pills that early, she had such a fit of fury that her blood pressure shot up to 188/96 and required a dose of Norvasc.
The next day, of course, she did not remember any of this and greeted me as sweetly as she (almost) always does. However, these incidents are becoming more and more frequent, and almost always in the evenings when we are alone.
I'm tired. I'm nervous and feeling overwhelmed . I haven't really had too many good days lately. Writing is increasingly difficult; I'm not able to focus on work as well as I would like to.
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