Saving the Sandwich Generation - The Daily Beast

President Obama has promised to support adults caring for elderly parents while scraping to send their own kids to college. But is his proposal strong enough?

Caregiver Raves: Pointers for Making Outings Easier for the Disabled

As most of you who read this blog know, my mother had a stroke ten years ago that left her paralyzed on the left side. She uses a walker or wheelchair to get around. Since I am her caregiver, I have observed the difficulties she, and others who are disabled, endure on a daily basis. Simple outings, like going out to eat at a restaurant or going to the supermarket, are fraught with challenges for the disabled. Here are a few pointers to make outings easier for the caregiver and disabled alike.

Do your shopping early in the day.

I have found that my mother tires easily since her stroke. This is commom for stroke victims according to a National Stroke Association Association post by Nancy A. Flynn Managing Post-Stroke Fatigue During the Holidays. When she is tired, she is more likely to fall or have trouble moving. The disabled do not have the ability to “push through“ the tiredness in the manner of people who are not disabled. It‘s not that they are tired and have to struggle to move, it’s that they are tired and can’t move. When mom gets tired, her whole body just stops responding.

Park as close to the door of the building as possible.

Most of the time the handicapped parking is close to the door and I use it. With some businesses, though, the handicapped parking spaces are wider, but further from the door than a regular parking place. If it comes down to a choice between a wider parking place and closer to the door, I'm going to choose closer to the door. If we park close to the door my mother can use her walker instead of needing a wheelchair. For my mother, using her walker is slow-going, but she has some sense of independence and doesn’t feel quite as disabled when she is “doing it herself” as she puts it. It is also advantageous for me, the caregiver, to let her use the walker. Lifting the walker, which is fairly light and folds compactly, out of the car trunk is less likely to cause a back injury than an unwieldy wheelchair which, in addition to sheer muscle power, requires much twisting and turning to wrench it out of the trunk.

When at a restaurant, sit close to the restroom.

If you are close to the restroom, you aren’t as likely to have to wait on a path to clear so that you can maneuver the wheelchair or a walker to the potty when you need quick access.

Request a table with chairs instead of a booth.

Sitting at a table with chairs gives me the ability to angle mom’s chair to suit her limitations of movement. Also it's much easier for her to just sit down than to try to slide the weight of her paralyzed limbs into a booth. It's better, too, for me, the caregiver, as I have easier access to help her get up from a chair than I would have in a booth. I don't want to ask the person sitting in the booth next to us to move so that I can scoot in the seat to help my mom get up!

Check the weather forecast ahead of time and postpone the trip if there is rain in the forecast.

Mom's safety is always my number one priority when I am taking her out for a jaunt. Since the consequences of falling are greatly increased for the disabled, transferring from the car to the wheelchair when the ground is slick could be risky business. The other thing is, have you ever tried to push a wheelchair and hold an umbrella at the same time? Not an easy task!

Do all of your shopping in one place, preferably where they have wheelchairs available for use.

If at all possible, I try to make only one stop with my mom so that she only has to transfer once from the car to the wheelchair because it is such a struggle for her. It's easier on me, too, when I only wrestle with the wheelchair once. Better yet, patronize stores that have wheelchairs for your convenience, especially ones with a basket attached, so that you don’t have to unload the wheelchair at all! Try shopping at an indoor mall, where you can move from store to store, or at a department store, like Wal-Mart or Target, and pick up everything you need at that one store.

Hopefully, you will find these tips useful. Do you have additional tips? If so, please share them through a comment or email so that we can use them too. After all, we are all on this journey together!

--Sandwiched

Sandwich Generation: Nursing Home Finance 101

I just read a great article called Who Pays for a Nursing Home?. This article explores fact and fiction about what Medicare and Medicaid does and doesn't pay. It's definitely worth checking out and right on the "money"!


One thing to remember is that, in most cases, the nursing home will have someone on staff who is knowledgeable regarding the ins and outs of paying for long term care.

--Sandwiched

Baby Boomer Rants: Handicap Door Buttons

Why do doctor's offices, who routinely see wheelchair bound patients, not have handicap door buttons to open the door automatically? I don't understand. My mother's doctor is located in a fairly new building built in, I'd say, the last four or five years. Yet, when I take her to appointments, I struggle with doors throughout the building that continually bang shut on the wheelchair as I move her from the car, to the waiting room, down the hallway to the doctor's examination room, to the bathroom, to the lab, to the imaging area, etc.


I can understand the lack of handicap features for businesses where wheelchair and walker bound customers are not routine, but medical office buildings? Come on.

--Sandwiched

Baby Boomer Rants: A Bigger Sandwich for the Sandwich Generation

There is a growing trend occurring in the Sandwich Generation according to an enlightening and well-written article I just finished reading entitled: Sandwich Generation: Fitting Parents, Grown Children Into Home. The article talks about, among other things, the struggle of having grown children move back home at the same time aging parents are moving in.

The article made me think about those of us living the sandwiched life and the fact that raising children and caring for aging parents is only a portion of our mutual identity.

You see, most of the Sandwiched Generation are also Baby Boomers. By definition, a Baby Boomer is one of the babies born during the post World War II period when births reached a whopping 4 million per year and stayed there for almost two decades, running from 1946 to 1964 according to the United States Census Bureau. This means the youngest Baby Boomers are now middle-aged at 46 years old and may or may not still have children at home, They are, however, very likely to have children in college, grown children, married children, and grandchildren, full time jobs, health issues of their own, retirement accounts, etc, etc. 

I think sandwiching is inclusive of other things significant to this stage of life and not just the dilemna of caring for aging parents while coping with raising children. Things such as:

• The balancing of a full time job - especially at a time when we are at our peak earning potential - with the need for time off due to our own health problems inevitable in middle age (can we say menopause, girls?). Of course, this is in addition to the time off needed for traditional sandwiching activities related to aging parents and children.

• Another struggle for the sandwiched is the increased need to spend time reconnecting with our significant other. The increased likelihood of divorce looms large during the months after the children move out and the empty-nest syndrome moves in. How do you fit in "spouse reconnect" time while spending time with grandchildren and making time for trips to visit children at college? 

• And what about managing those shrinking or non-existent retirement accounts? It seems the economy is pushing retirement just beyond our grasp while preventing us from wallowing in a mid-life crisis and, perhaps, choosing a new career path (or even buying a new convertible!).

Do you see what I mean about the full effects of sandwiching? Aargh!

Here's the thing. Our generation is knit together through the path we've shared since we were children. We may be the Sandwich Generation now, but we gave youth a voice as we collectively joined hands, planned sit-ins and walkouts, introduced rock-and-roll, and yearned for peace.

We learned there is strength in numbers and together we changed the face of America. It's not that other generations have never faced the issues of our generation. They have. It's that our generation knows it's collective voice. We learned as Hippies, grew up as Yuppies and matured into Baby Boomers. Our voice has always been uniquely ours and we have always embraced it as we've traveled life's journey. No matter what comes our way.

--Sandwiched

Technorati post

XX5NWMEGVWWW

Caregiver Raves: Caregiver Report

I found the AARP Caregiver Identification Study on one of my favorite websites The Family Caregiver and wanted to share. It is interesting to see exactly how many of us fall into the caregiver bucket.

--Sandwiched

Baby Boomer Rants: Ugh! I have to visit my mother

Don't get me wrong. I love my mother. But she is pissed that she's in a nursing home. Add in mom's dementia and her personality changes that are the aftermath of a stroke, and visits with mom are . . . ummm . . . painful. By painful I mean a full throttled root canal and bamboo shoots under the fingernail sort of thing.


When I visit, I stare into the eyes of a woman who is riddled with anxiety and dementia and looks accusingly at me as she complains about the meals they serve - everything is wrong, up to and including the silverware - the care she is receiving, her roommate, her bath, the television, the telephone, the bathroom, the noise level outside her door, the dresser drawers, and pretty much anything else that pops into her mind while she is repeating over and over the many questions that I will answer again and again.


She definitely wants me to know it's my fault she is in such a crappy predicament. It is my fault that she has grown old and is no longer safe staying by herself. It is my fault that she is confused and forgetful and is not able to sort out her medications. It is my fault that she can't cook for herself, bathe herself, or lift herself. It is my fault that she needs help to clean herself up when she has an accident. It is my fault that life, at 87, has turned on her.


"How are the kids?"
"Fine mom."
"These meals aren't worth eating."
"Not getting any better, huh?"
"I'm starving. (quiver in the voice) I told the nurse. Look at this sandwich she brought me."
At this point mom pulls a sandwich out of the drawer beside her chair and I realize that she saved the remains of the sandwich for effect.
"Looks like a ham sandwich, mom."
Mom looks deflated that I'm not flying out of the room to flail the nurse who brought her the sandwich.
"Well it's not worth eating."
"Maybe you'll like dinner."
Please, God, let her like dinner.
"Are you kidding? You should see the spoon they gave me last night!"
don't ask, don't ask . . .
"What was wrong with the spoon?"
"It was bent and I couldn't even get the food in my mouth. I had to use my fingers."
"Did you call and ask for another spoon?"
"You just wait, your day's coming!!!!!"
"What does that mean?"
"You'll be old one day."
don't ask, don't ask, don't ask . . .
"Well, why didn't you call for another spoon?"
"Do you know how long I have to wait to get help around here?"
okay, change the subject, quick!
"Have you talked to Shirley, lately?"
"No, I get tired of doing all the calling. It's her turn."
silence
"How are the kids?"
"Fine mom."


Every once in a while, though, when I walk into her room, the woman sitting in the chair is my mother. This woman has a light in her eyes when she sees me. She recognizes that I am her daughter, not just her caregiver. This woman believes I deserve time away from the continual care she now needs and actually asks how I'm doing. This woman is my mother and on these days I realize that somewhere inside she still cares about me. I have come to treasure these days as a gift. Because of these days, when people tell me that "at least you still have your mother", I agree. It is also on these days that I realize how much I miss my mom. I love you mom . . .

--Sandwiched

Baby Boomer Rants: First Date Night vs Nursing Home Visit

"It's ten o'clock. Do you know where your children are?" was the public service announcement of the 1970's and 1980's. Well it's ten o'clock, and I know my 17-year-old son is out on his first date! This son is 15 years younger than my oldest daughter and the first date ritual has changed in those 15 years. First of all, there are no phone calls as there were 15 years ago. There is, instead, continual texting. Which means I don't catch phrases here and there that would give me insight into this teenage romance. Not sure what I think about that.


The other thing is, I wasn't at home for the first date plans conversation. Instead, I was attending to my daily visit with my mother at the nursing home where she is a resident. There are many days when I feel stretched extremely thin and those are the days I understand most fully what being in the sandwich generation means. I am finding that being a good daughter means missing out on many of the details of my teenage son's life. Does this make me an average mother instead of a good mother? Am I prioritizing correctly? I'm not sure. What I do know is that I am doing my best. My prayer is that my best is good enough.

--Sandwiched

Caregiver Raves: Momma is Jitterbugging at 87 Years Old!

So, I bought my 87-year-old mother a Jitterbug cell phone. She is trying very hard to learn how to use the “damn thing” as she referred to it as I was explaining the built in phone book. She would like for me to believe she’s not that interested, but she has been “practicing” how to use it for about three hours now. I know because my phone rings every 15 minutes and it’s mom on her Jitterbug. I also happen to know she told my sister she now has a phone that is the “cutest thing” . . .


Memory issues for the older generation are more of a struggle for them than we realize. Mom wants to work that “cute little phone” more than anything in the world. But if she can’t figure it out, she’s going to tell me that a cell phone is one more “damn thing” that’s useless.

--Sandwiched