therealljidol Season 10, week 9 "The Trolley Problem"
Telephones are not my friend. They actually were my foe 2 years ago and it’s taken me a while to not jump when either my landline or cell rings.
When my mother’s health began to decline, knowing the network of services available to her, I put many in place. Meals on wheels, a homemaker, paratransit services since neither she nor her husband could drive any more, and link to life so if she fell and could not get up help could come.
Every time help was in place it was soundly refused by my mother. She insisted she could do things herself and became increasingly belligerent. Her competency was questionable but no one in my family would support any attempt to take over the situation legally. My stepfather, for their entire marriage, deferred all decisions to my mother so he was absolutely no help and his ability to care for himself was lessening as well.
“You know Mom is a stubborn woman.” My sister would say when I would call her to tell her the latest fiasco.
“But she’s not safe!” I’d scream into the phone as my frustration traveled the three thousand miles to her phone in California. “And you are not the one getting calls at all hours!” This seemed to fall on deaf ears and I was just being dramatic according to her.
Things rapidly derailed. I’d go to my mother’s house to find pans burned and sitting on the stove, the bed needing to be changed because of soiled linens and many other things that needed more attention than I had time to give. My husband had to pick up some of the slack as I had to go to work and was not able to get home quickly.
Calls at all hours from the link to life operator telling me that either my mother or stepfather had fallen and the ambulance was on its way. Both refused to go to the hospital to be checked out. Since I had no legal authority I could not insist. Family members would call me and they would tell me that “something” needs to happen but I had no power.
I was caught between two scenarios: I could let my mother continue to live independently and wait for disaster to strike, or to incur her wrath and insist that she turn over both power of attorney and medical decisions to me.
I did not want this responsibility as even on a good day my relationship with both my mother and stepfather were strained at best and intolerable at worst.
Finally disaster struck. My mother’s hip finally gave out and she was hospitalized. The doctors said she could not go home without help. When I explained the situation to him he insisted that my mother go into the nursing home for “rehabilitation.”
I knew that once she was there (and my stepfather was to follow very soon after), she would not leave.
Another dilemma: should I continue to tell my mother that she was in the nursing home temporarily, feeding into her fantasy that she would go home, or hit her with the reality that she would need to accept the fact that she and her husband had to remain permanently in order to get the care they needed.
Either way life was miserable. My stress level was through the roof. Maintaining a long work day and then coming home to go to the nursing home and hear how my mother and her husband were not cooperating was almost more than I could handle. I’d do my best to be cheerful when seeing my mother, only to be assaulted with insults, accusations and made to feel that all of this was my fault. Rationally I knew this wasn’t true but everything fed into the long term problem of an emotionally abusive relationship.
This situation continued until one night I was awakened by the phone and the doctor at the emergency room told me I needed to come as soon as possible. My mother’s condition was rapidly deteriorating and there was little that could be done except keep her comfortable.
The final ethical dilemma was thrust upon me. Do I keep my mother in denial that she would recover or do I tell her that there was no hope and it was only a matter of time. Should I call my sister to see what her thoughts were or should I just make the decision on my own and deal with the repercussions after the fact?
I entered the room in the emergency room and was greeted by the attending physician. I told her that we needed to tell my mother that there was nothing more that could be done. I felt that I could not keep her in denial any longer. She would have to come to terms with the fact that this was the end. I couldn’t, in good conscience, let her think all was going to be better. She needed to say her good-byes and if she wanted to pray to her god then she needed to do that.
The last few days were the most peaceful I had with my mother in many years. Acceptance, after the initial reaction, seemed to take over. The day before my mother passed away was full of laughter and a sense of quiet surrender to the inevitable that I didn’t expect.
I was, and am still at peace with the decisions I made and in hindsight my sister and the rest of the family saw what I did and my reasoning behind it. And if they didn’t there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. I chose the track that I thought would cause the least damage for all concerned.
This is my entry for week 9 of therealljidol the topic was “The Trolley Problem”. I hope you will read other entries from my fellow participants in the competition!
When my mother’s health began to decline, knowing the network of services available to her, I put many in place. Meals on wheels, a homemaker, paratransit services since neither she nor her husband could drive any more, and link to life so if she fell and could not get up help could come.
Every time help was in place it was soundly refused by my mother. She insisted she could do things herself and became increasingly belligerent. Her competency was questionable but no one in my family would support any attempt to take over the situation legally. My stepfather, for their entire marriage, deferred all decisions to my mother so he was absolutely no help and his ability to care for himself was lessening as well.
“You know Mom is a stubborn woman.” My sister would say when I would call her to tell her the latest fiasco.
“But she’s not safe!” I’d scream into the phone as my frustration traveled the three thousand miles to her phone in California. “And you are not the one getting calls at all hours!” This seemed to fall on deaf ears and I was just being dramatic according to her.
Things rapidly derailed. I’d go to my mother’s house to find pans burned and sitting on the stove, the bed needing to be changed because of soiled linens and many other things that needed more attention than I had time to give. My husband had to pick up some of the slack as I had to go to work and was not able to get home quickly.
Calls at all hours from the link to life operator telling me that either my mother or stepfather had fallen and the ambulance was on its way. Both refused to go to the hospital to be checked out. Since I had no legal authority I could not insist. Family members would call me and they would tell me that “something” needs to happen but I had no power.
I was caught between two scenarios: I could let my mother continue to live independently and wait for disaster to strike, or to incur her wrath and insist that she turn over both power of attorney and medical decisions to me.
I did not want this responsibility as even on a good day my relationship with both my mother and stepfather were strained at best and intolerable at worst.
Finally disaster struck. My mother’s hip finally gave out and she was hospitalized. The doctors said she could not go home without help. When I explained the situation to him he insisted that my mother go into the nursing home for “rehabilitation.”
I knew that once she was there (and my stepfather was to follow very soon after), she would not leave.
Another dilemma: should I continue to tell my mother that she was in the nursing home temporarily, feeding into her fantasy that she would go home, or hit her with the reality that she would need to accept the fact that she and her husband had to remain permanently in order to get the care they needed.
Either way life was miserable. My stress level was through the roof. Maintaining a long work day and then coming home to go to the nursing home and hear how my mother and her husband were not cooperating was almost more than I could handle. I’d do my best to be cheerful when seeing my mother, only to be assaulted with insults, accusations and made to feel that all of this was my fault. Rationally I knew this wasn’t true but everything fed into the long term problem of an emotionally abusive relationship.
This situation continued until one night I was awakened by the phone and the doctor at the emergency room told me I needed to come as soon as possible. My mother’s condition was rapidly deteriorating and there was little that could be done except keep her comfortable.
The final ethical dilemma was thrust upon me. Do I keep my mother in denial that she would recover or do I tell her that there was no hope and it was only a matter of time. Should I call my sister to see what her thoughts were or should I just make the decision on my own and deal with the repercussions after the fact?
I entered the room in the emergency room and was greeted by the attending physician. I told her that we needed to tell my mother that there was nothing more that could be done. I felt that I could not keep her in denial any longer. She would have to come to terms with the fact that this was the end. I couldn’t, in good conscience, let her think all was going to be better. She needed to say her good-byes and if she wanted to pray to her god then she needed to do that.
The last few days were the most peaceful I had with my mother in many years. Acceptance, after the initial reaction, seemed to take over. The day before my mother passed away was full of laughter and a sense of quiet surrender to the inevitable that I didn’t expect.
I was, and am still at peace with the decisions I made and in hindsight my sister and the rest of the family saw what I did and my reasoning behind it. And if they didn’t there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. I chose the track that I thought would cause the least damage for all concerned.
This is my entry for week 9 of therealljidol the topic was “The Trolley Problem”. I hope you will read other entries from my fellow participants in the competition!