Embracing Intuitive Self-Care
Letter #14 From The from The Intuitive Queen of The Intuition Empire (aka Jennifer R. Young)
In December when my mom stayed with me for a week, I gave her my first floor bedroom. I chose to sleep on the couch in the family room, so I could hear her if she needed anything in the night. Mom was so unstable on her feet and I worried about her falling. During the day, she would pick on me that I was on the couch instead of in one of the spare bedrooms.
One night, I heard a noise and peeked open one eye in the darkness. In the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights, I saw her adorned in her plum-colored PJs, perched upon the footstool, silently watching me sleep.
At the time, I was slightly annoyed. We spent so much time together every day, and I just wanted a break to be alone at night. But looking back on it now she was just a mom watching her daughter sleep. She was probably thinking of how fast time had past, and how her little girl was now a middle aged woman and mother of 3. I long to relive that moment now.
Sometimes, life happens and everything changes in one day.
That's what has happened to my life in the past few weeks. Since my mom's fall and her 10 day-stint at the hospital in upstate New York, everything is different. My mom was referred to rehab. Not the kind I went to in my 30s during early sobriety, but a physical rehab in a nursing home. We had her transported from New York to Lewes, Delaware, so that she could have family visit her daily.
While my mom did not break any bones, she has become very weak and unable to do the things she used to do before the fall. She cannot get dressed herself, or walk safely, or even go to the bathroom herself. Her mind is not the same either.
When we talk with her, she will start out sounding like the mom I used to know. Funny, intelligent, and full of facts and history nuggets. And then in an instant she will wander off into a tall tale–which is a kind way of saying she is hallucinating. My mom tells me of reporters from TV who visited her home; of a grocery store run by robots; and other things that are just not true.
When I visit her, she lets me help her brush her hair, and put on her sweaters. I bring her good coffee, and baked goods, and sometimes homemade meals.
When I am not with her, I am thinking about her and talking about her – and still balancing all of the plates in the air that I normally balance: work, my sons' busy high school schedules and lives; cooking; paying bills and running a household.
And then there are all of the calls. Managing her utilities with the help of my sister; cancelling her deliveries and doctor appointments in New York; and calling the facility she is in to advocate for her and ensure she gets the best care.
When I am going through a hard time, in this case the health crisis of my beloved mom, I know use two things to get through the hard days.
The first thing that I do to get through the hard days, is to always pause and try to look for the positive.
There are definitely positives. I get to see my mom daily– she is 20 minutes away. I get to talk to my sister daily for the first time since I was a little girl. And speaking of Allison, I am so proud that we are working as a team. Together we found Mom's clothes at her house and found her wallet (which was no easy task let me tell you). We figured out where mom's bills were and tax papers so we could file her taxes. My sister and I encourage each other when things get hard--after visits and phone calls when Mom just doesn't sound like Mom anymore.
Another positive is seeing my mother's eyes shine happily when my sons and I visit or bring her something to eat. I also feel very grateful for being able to advocate for someone who always was one for me. Just this week, I asked for a list of the medications that she is taking. My sister and I noticed that the hospital had prescribed the wrong medicine and told the rehab to keep giving it to her. I insisted that they take her off of it immediately.
The second thing that I do to get through hard times is to practice intuitive self-care.
Taking care of Me first: What do I need?
Did you ever notice that when you are going through a crisis or grief or an emotional time, everyone says, "Don't forget to take care of yourself" and "put the oxygen mask on you first,"?
But how do you do that?
You use your intuition of course. Only you know what you need to take care of you. Here is what I need for my own self care: Rest, Kindness, Shortcuts, and Feeling Emotions.
Resting
I know I need rest. I am trying to balance getting my teens to all of their activities, feeding them, cleaning, working a full-time job plus all of my responsibilities of caring for mom's affairs and advocating for her healing (with my sister's help 100 percent of course). It's physically and emotionally exhausting. So I take time to lay on the couch and just do nothing in between my running around.
Doing Something Kind For Me
Every day I try to do something kind for myself. Yesterday it was a bath. Today it was a heating pad and watching one of my favorite escape shows. The other morning, after a doctor's appointment, I went to breakfast at a fast food place and just stared out the window - no texting, Googling, or social media. Just quiet and peace. It's the little things that count.
Taking Shortcuts Without the Guilt
One night I made one of my son's taquitos and the other one French toast sticks for dinner. And I've made myself microwave meals two nights in a row. I know it's not the fanciest meal, and maybe not the healthiest. But we ate strawberries and fruit cups I'll have you know, and the cleanup was minimal after. It's ok. I work until 6 pm every night and today I had 5 work meetings in a row. But we all ate and my son and I got to visit mom. So for me, part of self-care is knowing that taking shortcuts during hard times is essential.
Expressing and Processing Feelings
For me, while rest, being kind, and taking shortcuts all help, the biggest help of all is to allow myself to feel the feelings about my mom as they rise to the surface.
I don’t want to swallow my feelings, try to eat them away, or pretend that I don't have any at all. Because if I don't feel these difficult feelings now, they will be there waiting for me to unpack years later.
I have heard about dementia, Parkinson's, and Alzheimer's before and known people who have cared for their loved ones with it. But now that it is happening to my mom--I really understand how it feels. It makes me really sad and miss her even when she is sitting right in front of me.
Sometimes, my mom is just not making sense. It's hard to hear her beautiful mind wander away from me, into these fantastical imaginary things that she is hearing and seeing. The other night, she texted a friend that she was in Grandma's attic talking to her mother's friends. I nodded and smiled when she told me about it and went home and cried after relaying the story to my sister.
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December was not so long ago. And yet it's like she is a different person. I took the moments for granted. Back then, she was so much more independent and so much herself. She helped me set the table. She got dressed herself and could make food for herself. And my mom could come and sit out on the couch to watch me sleep - to make sure her daughter was sleeping well and safe.
I hope she gets released to my home and then to my sister's home after rehab is over. I pray that we get a chance to make sure she is sleeping safe and well. We want to help her with whatever she needs - put on a sweater, make a snack, find a book to read, to make her laugh again.
Until that day I will persevere. I will focus on self-care. And intuitively care for myself so I can stay strong and continue to care for my Mom.
Until next time my intuitive friends.
Love,
Jenn
Songs that I listened to while writing this blog:
- "Enjoy the Silence," by Depeche Mode
- "Save a Prayer," by Duran Duran
- "Landslide," by Stevie Nicks