when a person has to stop pretending that all is well and face the harsh realities of life. That time has arrived for me.
I finally had to admit that I need help. Simple day to day housekeeping chores have become overwhelming. What should take an hour of my time now takes the better part of a day. I can still cook my meals and wash my dishes and do my laundry. I can take care of my personal hygiene and can dress myself without help. It is the rest of it that has become a bugger.
So yesterday I talked to all four of my kids about the problems I am facing. They mostly agree that I need to move into an apartment that is more suited to my needs. My apartment is too small to be able to use the walker. There just isn't room. I need additional help in dealing with the cellulitis in my legs. I need additional help in maintaining the cleanliness of my living space that the arthritis has made difficult. And I need to live somewhere that doesn't have stairs as the only means of getting to and from my apartment.
So my kids are researching the possibilities. There are several options. The only option I refuse to consider is a nursing home. I need my personal space. I am somewhat ornery. I do not play well with others. Should some fresh faced little nurse's aide tell me it is time to eat, time to sleep or time to go to the community room for a sing-long or for arts and crafts, I am apt to throw something at her, even though she would just be doing her job. Aside from my family and those blogging friends I have made, I mostly want to be left alone. Living somewhere that has a schedule that must be kept and that expects participation in activities that hold no interest for me is my idea of what Hell would look like.
I kind of feel sorry for my kids. They have their work cut out for them in finding ways to do what needs to be done and still stay within my budget. But they are smart. They are good at finding solutions to problems. And even though I have made good on my promise to live long enough to be a problem to them, they still love me and are more than willing to help me through a time that is not much fun.
I am not telling you about this life changing time because I desire sympathy. I do not. I still enjoy life as much and sometimes more than most. But I know there are some who might read this that are facing a similar change. I put it off longer than I should have. I am a stubborn person. And because my stubbornness got in the way of common sense, this isn't as easy as it could be. There is no shame in admitting you need help, especially in the later years. I still do as much as possible for myself, but it has gotten to the point where it just isn't enough. And if this helps even one person, then it has accomplished what I hope it would.
And even with complications, life is still grand. :)
Opus 2021-299: It’s Trump’s Fault
1 hour ago