Growing Up Is Hard To Do
On quiet nights when there is little to watch on the TV and we have exhausted all the box sets and streamed series’, my husband has taken to watching YouTube. He likes the travel videos. Mostly the ones showing people camping in freezing cold parts of the world that he is unlikely to ever visit. I personally cannot see why. But as he listens through his headphones and watches this on his laptop, it makes for peaceful evenings. I don’t argue and let him get on with it.
One night this week, my husband was watching some form of wild camping malarkey in the coldest part of Alaska (or some such country at the end of beyond), when he put his laptop down and wandered off from our lounge (with headphones on and still connected) into the next room. Our son appeared and seeing his Dad walking out went and picked up the laptop. I watched on, rather unconcerned. Then, out of the corner of my eye I could see him fiddling with the laptop and tapping on the keyboard. He very quickly put it down and went to find another seat. From there, with the smallest hint of a smile on his face, he began casually scrolling through his phone.
My husband almost ran back into the lounge, looking rather bewildered with his mouth open and headphones askew. I didn’t move. After all these years, I have learnt that my husband being particularly confused is not in itself something to worry about. It is now apparent that this is a rather natural state for him to be in. He looked around, checked his laptop, didn’t say a word and wandered off again.
My son got up and went over to the laptop for a second time. He began fiddling and typing again. This time he didn’t move and the broadest of grins came over his face. Before I knew what was happening, my husband had raced back into the lounge. Seeing my son sitting with his laptop, he began shouting ‘is that you, are you doing that?’ Now, whilst I know that my husband’s confused state is not something to worry about, him being confused and panicking normally is. I knew at that moment that I would need to act. This was going to necessitate me moving from the sofa.
‘You listen to this, just you listen’, my husband said, thrusting his headphones into my hands. My son, who could now barely do anything for laughing so hard, typed away on the laptop. Through the headphones came the words ‘what a chump, what a chump, what a chump,’ repeated over and over again.
This moment of mischief and deviousness, something that happens all too regularly here, thankfully provided a moment of hilarity (and yet another story for us to endlessly relay in years to come) in what had been a frankly horrible week. Being a kid is great. This week though, I have had to come to realise that the problem with being a kid is that at some point you have to grow up. Growing up then involves taking care of the adults.
My Dad has Prostate Cancer. The doctor’s control it. Dad’s had it for a while. At this point, you will need to forgive me as I must admit to having no knowledge about Prostate Cancer. I don’t want to find out about it or even want to know about it. Yes, I probably should be researching it on the internet so that I have the facts and the information. But I haven’t and actually, I can’t face it.
If you need help with Prostate Cancer or to find out more about it (because you are braver than me) then you can go to Prostate Cancer UK, who have lots of information.
Dad now needs Radiotherapy. This started a couple of weeks ago but it hasn’t gone well. Due to the other ailments and medical problems that Dad has, not to mention the various different drugs Dad is taking (the drugs to control one thing, the drugs to counteract the side effects of those drugs, and then the additional drugs that Dad now takes for the new problems that he has due to the treatment he is having that is supposed to prolong his life), Dad is in hospital with an infection that requires intravenous antibiotics and fluids and bed rest.
My Dad is completely confused and doesn’t know which hospital he is in or what day it is. My Mum is struggling to cope. I knew I was in for problems when she started texting at 6.36am and wondered why there was no response until I had got up and found my phone at about 7.30.
It is not an easy situation as we live some way from my parents. It isn’t possible for me to just hop in the car and pop over to sort it all out. My sister is in a similar position. We do understand perfectly well that my Dad is ill and as a result he is completely disorientated and angry that he can’t go home. It is taking time for the antibiotics to work. It is obvious that the infection is having a dreadful effect on him that only time and more drugs will resolve. In truth, us running over there to see Dad for one hour a day (visiting is very specific; only one person, per one hour) won’t make a lot of difference.
We also understand that this is all very hard for our Mum to try to sort out. It has been very painful watching as she has become so impatient with Dad and what has happened. She seems to be treating the whole episode as being terribly inconvenient for her. Inevitably, things came to a head. During one conversation Mum told me that she just didn’t understand why Dad ‘couldn’t make himself content where he was until he got better’ and not be rude to the nursing staff, this being what she would do. I was also told ‘I have no idea of what he expects me to do about it all. If he insists on coming home, I can’t give him antibiotics by injection’.
When I tried to point out that Dad was so ill that (a) he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what he thought and (b) he probably couldn’t understand what he was doing there, that it was clear he didn’t know one day from the next, that his current irascible behaviour was a symptom of all of this and couldn’t she be just a little more understanding. My Mum accused me of blaming her for everything and not being prepared to help. That put a rather swift end to the call. Following this, my Mum then called my sister to tell her how inconsiderate and unsympathetic I was. It went on and on and on.
I know that I am not the only person in this position but I didn’t realise how suddenly it would happen to me. It has come as something of a nasty surprise. Looking after the people who you thought looked after you is not something that you want to deal with. It has added meaning; that your parents are getting old, that they are coming to a point in life where they cannot cope and need help. It’s also another responsibility to add to the mounting number of things that I have to deal with every day. To all of those people out there who are doing this now, you have my admiration. I know that it is going to be one of the hardest things that I am ever going to have to navigate. At the moment, I don’t know how I will.
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