Its been a long time since my last confession.../ blog. We are approaching the time last year when we received the news that there was "nothing more they could do". I remember it well. About this time last year, he came home one day and said, "I'm not driving any more, I can't co-ordinate properly," and just after that he started to struggle with tying laces and using his hands. He went into a hospice, they looked at his pain control (he thought that was the issue), then they found it had gone to his brain. To me the season of merriness was fake. I put on an act, he wanted to enjoy Christmas, it was his favourite time of year, he was a big kid at heart.
So, why the sudden blog? All the Christmas adverts, and the invites that are coming in, remind me of how I felt last year, and strangely, evoke feeling of how I feel this year. Last year was all fake to me. I performed my Christmas duties, loving wife, loving mother, going through my own little psychological hell. I wanted to pull the tablecloth from under all the ceremony and scream "its all fake", but Kevin was determined to enjoy his last Christmas, because he always loved Christmas. Kevin just wanted to get on with it, and wanted to enjoy watching his menace enjoy his favourite time of year. I couldn't talk to the menace about it, he just wanted Christmas to come quicker, and really didn't understand what was happening. In fact I was told (not Kevin) at the beginning of December, when he was in the Peace Hospice in Watford, that he probably had 4 months to live (his oncologist talked to me on the phone, but this was his speculation, he needed to do medical tests to know - he also told me not to tell him, he would, when he knew). We were told officially just before Christmas.
For me, I was just performing a role, I was putting on my front of house persona (Goffman refers to how we portray ourselves to others, but hide the chaos e.g at a dinner party, the kitchen can be in tumoil, but the guests don't see it), internally I was in tatters. I went into my "robot mode", in a crisis I go into "automaton". I needed to be strong for my husband and my menace. So I busily carried on with the christmas shopping and planning. We did all the christmas celebrations, we went to them, and "enjoyed ourselves", it was all very surreal. This blog has been sparked by my annual invite, from my father, to his charity carol concert and cocktails with people I never would get a chance to otherwise (famous people). Kevin used to LOVE it. Last year he came out of the hospice and we went straight up to London to this event. (our good friend Sandra drove us there, and got her ex-husband to pick us up, so we could just concentrate on "enjoying" the evening) He was seriously in pain, but desperate to do it. He tried to walk in, had to leave, then came back. We got to the service, and half way through, he was lying on me, with coats wrapped around him (other people, were even offering their coats) and then we had to leave. We went back to the hotel, he went to bed, I sat on a stool outside the room and phoned my friend who was looking after the menace. She told me he had nits, but she was dealing with it, I felt like an awful mother.
I sat in the hallway of the hotel in my cocktail dress for 2 hours on the phone to my friend. I have never felt so alienated from reality. Dressed in an emerald green dress, with sparkly jewellery, I felt like a a very unqualified, but overdressed nurse, while my husband slept in the room behind me, and I waited for my father and brother and his wife to return from the reception. They returned at nearly 11pm with another couple I didn't know, happy, they had had a good evening, and, to be honest, I was angry. How dare they be having fun???
My father wangled us dinner, they must have hated us, the kitchens were closed, and here were some tipsy revellers and one angry lady! The couple joined us, I was rude to them, I didn't want them there, I was scared and in turmoil, I just wanted to talk to my family, I (very capital I) needed help, not strange people joining us for dinner. We got through the evening, we went home the next morning. Kevin SO wanted to go, and we did it, even if badly. I got my invite this year, spoke to my dad, he talked about the logistics, my sister is going and he told me to talk to her about it (no mention of last year). In the end I did say, I wasn't sure I wanted to go, he acknowledged my feelings. Of course he understood, he, who lives with the burden of sickness and potential death every day, but still manages to "perform" these social rituals that matter so much to him, and to us. I am going again, it is important I face these memories, and prepare myself to carry on as before. At least this year I can acknowledge how I feel, I don't need to keep my "front of house" face for Kevin.
I also have to face the pantomime (Kevin didn't make it last year either) and the annual "do" at a friends, the last thing he made it to, and was on "top form" before he went home and collapsed (took of his party face). I will do them, with friends and family and support, but this year it is "real", not fake, the menace is in on the picture too, we will support each other and get through it. In a strange way I am looking forwards to Christmas, we are spending it with Kevin's family, we can all support each other without him, and make the best of it, learn to enjoy Christmas without him, he was the Christmas obsessive. No doubt the tree won't be up to scratch, and I will have to get up and make the coffee myself before the "grand reveal" (he would wake us all up on Christmas morning - yes, he was awake before the menace), but we will all be aware of what we have, but also what we don't. We are all in on it together.
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
Not waving, but drowning
It is the first week of the school holidays, it is nearly 1am and I should go to bed, as my friend's children will be here at 8am in the morning. I am looking after them for the week. She, like me, doesn't want them in childcare all summer and I wanted to help out. My grand plan was to look after the kids during the day and work in the evenings, up until today it went okay, if a little fraught!
The Menace has been having play therapy, he went today and I sat around with the other two waiting for him. He needed today, I needed him to have it. Yesterday we had what I had been waiting for...
For the last three days I have looked after three of them, lets call them, the Menace, Lauren and Edward. Lauren in the Menace'sbest friend and Edward is here 5 year old brother. I have taken them to the park every morning, to walk the dog, and the Menace has finally learnt to ride his bike. I have also taken them swimming in our local school pool (which I have paid a subscription to over the summer) and we have watched DVD's and had picnic. To be honest I am exhausted and its only the middle of the week - I have then, after that worked all evening!
The Menace has always felt a bit short changed that he hasn't got brothers and sisters. We live in an area where everyone seems to have loads of children! It has been a bit of an eye opener to him, as he has had to compete for attention and not always got his own way! Little things like I can't just swim to him in the deep end, becuase Edward is too young...
Yesterday we had the moment I have been waiting for. They were all tired, and I was preparing tea. I heard them all shouting in the garden, so I went out. Dennis was being bossy and Lauren wasn't happy, as far as I could tell Dennis was in the wrong. I told him so, he burst into tears "I want Daddy..!" My response (as calmly as I could) "Of course you do, but it doesn't change anything, you still need to let Lauren have her turn", then he said the words I have dreaded, in a really babyish voice "Daddy lovely, Mummy horrid!!". I didn't get angry or react, just took him to the kitchen to calm him down and allow him to go back to his friends, but it hurt...
I know that his dad will be immortalised in his mind as lovely, remembered for all the good things and I will gain the reputation for being the disciplinarian, its just how it has to be. I remember telling Kevin this before he died, "you'll always be loved, it will be me who gets the reputation for being a cow!" I didn't expect it quite so early. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I waited until bedtime and I told him "Its hurts when you say things like that." His response was that Mummies should be nice to their sons. I put him straight, "My job is to teach you right from wrong, Daddy would have told you off too." He will never say sorry (just like his dad), but he did tell me he loved me.
Today I factored in more down time for them all, but by the end of the day they were still getting fractious and I was getting ready for the Mum to pick them up. Just before she did, another curve ball hit, my father phoned:
"Your Mum is in trouble, she has had another bad stroke."
The Menace has been having play therapy, he went today and I sat around with the other two waiting for him. He needed today, I needed him to have it. Yesterday we had what I had been waiting for...
For the last three days I have looked after three of them, lets call them, the Menace, Lauren and Edward. Lauren in the Menace'sbest friend and Edward is here 5 year old brother. I have taken them to the park every morning, to walk the dog, and the Menace has finally learnt to ride his bike. I have also taken them swimming in our local school pool (which I have paid a subscription to over the summer) and we have watched DVD's and had picnic. To be honest I am exhausted and its only the middle of the week - I have then, after that worked all evening!
The Menace has always felt a bit short changed that he hasn't got brothers and sisters. We live in an area where everyone seems to have loads of children! It has been a bit of an eye opener to him, as he has had to compete for attention and not always got his own way! Little things like I can't just swim to him in the deep end, becuase Edward is too young...
Yesterday we had the moment I have been waiting for. They were all tired, and I was preparing tea. I heard them all shouting in the garden, so I went out. Dennis was being bossy and Lauren wasn't happy, as far as I could tell Dennis was in the wrong. I told him so, he burst into tears "I want Daddy..!" My response (as calmly as I could) "Of course you do, but it doesn't change anything, you still need to let Lauren have her turn", then he said the words I have dreaded, in a really babyish voice "Daddy lovely, Mummy horrid!!". I didn't get angry or react, just took him to the kitchen to calm him down and allow him to go back to his friends, but it hurt...
I know that his dad will be immortalised in his mind as lovely, remembered for all the good things and I will gain the reputation for being the disciplinarian, its just how it has to be. I remember telling Kevin this before he died, "you'll always be loved, it will be me who gets the reputation for being a cow!" I didn't expect it quite so early. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I waited until bedtime and I told him "Its hurts when you say things like that." His response was that Mummies should be nice to their sons. I put him straight, "My job is to teach you right from wrong, Daddy would have told you off too." He will never say sorry (just like his dad), but he did tell me he loved me.
Today I factored in more down time for them all, but by the end of the day they were still getting fractious and I was getting ready for the Mum to pick them up. Just before she did, another curve ball hit, my father phoned:
"Your Mum is in trouble, she has had another bad stroke."
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Leading up to the school holidays
I have been doing my usual, keeping busy. I have been out with other Mums to Beautylase, I have been to book club, I have crewed on a yacht and now booked the next two weeks up totally!
All of this was fun, but as the end of my academic year came I started to feel the cracks. Fun though being busy is, I am trying to fill a void, I am hoping if I carry on long enough the grieving will pass me by and I will not have noticed.
After Kevin died I went straight back to work and focussed on that. I threw myself into the Half Marathon and now whatever activity I can find, but you can't avoid grief, it catches up with you. I started (about mid June) to feel crabby and annoyed with people over little things. I was annoyed with people who gave me sympathy, I was annoyed with people who didn't. It didn't really make sense. One night, after book club I came home to find that the Menace was too scared to go to bed, he thought he was going to be kidnapped. I paid the babysitter, apologised and then carried him to bed. I then found myself crying and swearing at the photo of Kevin. I was angry that I had been left to pick up the mess. Once again my overiding emotion seems to be anger at this stage, I hate anger, it is such an ugly emotion, but the reality is (to use Kevin's neices words) this is not what I signed up for. This is not where I expected to be. I also find myself appalled at the stereotypical classification (not others - mine). When I think of a widow, I imagine someome much older than me. The term "single mum" doesn't sit easily with me either.
I also get annoyed with people's sudden romantic view of death and of Kevin. He was such a kind man, so noble etc, yes, yes. I want them to talk about him in real terms, not an ideal that they have drawn up. Personally I like my people slightly flawed, not perfect, perfect annoys me (what a surprise!). I was peeved to find at parent's evening that my son is also doing it. In his books he rights about his brave, calm (not a word I would have used to describe him) daddy. he also writes about his lovely soft dog (so not the one that nicks his toys etc) but he hasn't written anything about me. I felt peeved and left out. The other family members made it into his book, but not me. Obviously I haven't told him I am peeved, but I did feel it.
Recently I have felt raw and cracked, and we are reaching the time of year that I have been dreading. The six weeks off in the rain (inevitably). Lets just hope that I can pull myself together again for them. I told myself today that I don't want to feel like this, it is draining, the decision to move myself forward into an acceptance of my world is up to me.
All of this was fun, but as the end of my academic year came I started to feel the cracks. Fun though being busy is, I am trying to fill a void, I am hoping if I carry on long enough the grieving will pass me by and I will not have noticed.
After Kevin died I went straight back to work and focussed on that. I threw myself into the Half Marathon and now whatever activity I can find, but you can't avoid grief, it catches up with you. I started (about mid June) to feel crabby and annoyed with people over little things. I was annoyed with people who gave me sympathy, I was annoyed with people who didn't. It didn't really make sense. One night, after book club I came home to find that the Menace was too scared to go to bed, he thought he was going to be kidnapped. I paid the babysitter, apologised and then carried him to bed. I then found myself crying and swearing at the photo of Kevin. I was angry that I had been left to pick up the mess. Once again my overiding emotion seems to be anger at this stage, I hate anger, it is such an ugly emotion, but the reality is (to use Kevin's neices words) this is not what I signed up for. This is not where I expected to be. I also find myself appalled at the stereotypical classification (not others - mine). When I think of a widow, I imagine someome much older than me. The term "single mum" doesn't sit easily with me either.
I also get annoyed with people's sudden romantic view of death and of Kevin. He was such a kind man, so noble etc, yes, yes. I want them to talk about him in real terms, not an ideal that they have drawn up. Personally I like my people slightly flawed, not perfect, perfect annoys me (what a surprise!). I was peeved to find at parent's evening that my son is also doing it. In his books he rights about his brave, calm (not a word I would have used to describe him) daddy. he also writes about his lovely soft dog (so not the one that nicks his toys etc) but he hasn't written anything about me. I felt peeved and left out. The other family members made it into his book, but not me. Obviously I haven't told him I am peeved, but I did feel it.
Recently I have felt raw and cracked, and we are reaching the time of year that I have been dreading. The six weeks off in the rain (inevitably). Lets just hope that I can pull myself together again for them. I told myself today that I don't want to feel like this, it is draining, the decision to move myself forward into an acceptance of my world is up to me.
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
The Menace's birthday, oh and the run!
No amount of obsessive weather watching made any difference, it hissed it down all day!
The week before I worked myself up into a crescendo of stress. I didn't even realise it until it was too late. Unfortunately the timing was awful, my busiest time of year, and I really wanted the event to go well. In a strange way I was more concerned about it than I was with the funeral! Kevin had told me what he wanted at the funeral, but I had nothing but my own wits to get me through this, and also I had to run a race, and mark an awful lot of exam papers. So I did what anyone in my situation would do - I baked 40 brownies and two birthday cakes, and invited three children over for a sleepover! Of course, that had to be the antidote!
It wasn't! (strange that) I also found myself in a strange emotional state. I really wanted to do Kevin proud, but I was also angry and having to live with this constant dilemma of his memory. Wanting to do right and not knowing if you can, and also being angry and having to do it all alone is a strange state to be in.
So I just got stressy, faffed alot and watched the dog misbehave (my barometer of how I am feeling). I know where all this bad feeling came from, Kevin was the one who was good at birthdays, and I knew that I had to step up to the mark and take another role that I didn't really want to! And just when I had so many other things to do too. I hated writing the card - love mummy (no daddy, that's it).
The run was hard, they have changed the course since I last did it, and it is very "undulating" especially in the second half! As I ran it I thought of Kevin, made piece with my bad feeling of the week. Parts of the route were runs we had done together and I felt he was there with me, I also ran in his Beating Bowel Cancer vest.
As ever I was ambitious in my timings having suggested to The White Lion that we would start the barbecue at 1.30, this did mean that there was no time for relaxing, it was staight home for a shower and then off again. Despite the awful weather we all had a good day, I cried a few times, I hope poeple forgave me and I really feel that we did Kevin proud. We raised over £8000 for Beating Bowel Cancer, thanks to all who suppported, ran, sponsored etc.
I managed to sell the T-shirts (to recoup my cost and add to the charity pot). I was worried I would forever be wearing T-shirts of Kevin! I thought I may be like Miss Havisham from Great Expectations. The team had been sort of viral, it grew and grew as we got nearer the day, so I had ordered them not entirely sure who wanted them, but thankfully people were happy to have them.
And even better, The Menace had a great birthday, he enjoyed the fun run with his friends and teachers, and then playing in the marquee at the White Lion with all the kids. He was so tired when we left, he didn't put up a fight at all, and I was so concerned I nearly left the dog! So thats another first done, next one is father's day!
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
St Albans Half Marathon
This weekend it is St Albans half marathon, 7 years ago Kevin missed it because The Menace was born on the Saturday night! He had persuaded a group of people from the pub to run, then he conveniently missed it! This Sunday it is the Half Marathon and also The Menace's birthday its one of those firsts!
So a group of us are running it in memory of Kevin. I am quite humbled and gobsmacked (not a word I usually use) by the support of friends and also the money we have raised for Beating Bowel Cancer. I have got T-shirts for running from the charity, some are also walking and many of The Menace's friends are running the fun run with him. We are doing a charity event at the White Lion afterwards, with a raffle and kids activities and I have many T-shirts printed with Kevin's picture on. I am sure he would be delighted to think of himself as a fashion item! I wanted to use the picture of him wearing his "let's F*** Cancer", but somehow it seemed inappropriate for The Menace and his friends to wear that, so I opted for a tamer one!
I have now started to obsessively watch the weather forecast, I feel somehow responsible for it! I really just want the day to go well, partly to say thank you to all the support that has been offered, the team has been viral, it has grown, sponsorship has far exceeded my expectations - and also to help The Menace enjoy his birthday. He loves his new T-shirt, it has already been into school and come home thankfully. I have already had to wash it!
I suspect this will be a difficult day for him, but I hope that seeing everyone there to support his dad's charity will help him through. His teacher is running the fun run with him (as a friend) lots of people will be there to help him.
So a group of us are running it in memory of Kevin. I am quite humbled and gobsmacked (not a word I usually use) by the support of friends and also the money we have raised for Beating Bowel Cancer. I have got T-shirts for running from the charity, some are also walking and many of The Menace's friends are running the fun run with him. We are doing a charity event at the White Lion afterwards, with a raffle and kids activities and I have many T-shirts printed with Kevin's picture on. I am sure he would be delighted to think of himself as a fashion item! I wanted to use the picture of him wearing his "let's F*** Cancer", but somehow it seemed inappropriate for The Menace and his friends to wear that, so I opted for a tamer one!
I have now started to obsessively watch the weather forecast, I feel somehow responsible for it! I really just want the day to go well, partly to say thank you to all the support that has been offered, the team has been viral, it has grown, sponsorship has far exceeded my expectations - and also to help The Menace enjoy his birthday. He loves his new T-shirt, it has already been into school and come home thankfully. I have already had to wash it!
I suspect this will be a difficult day for him, but I hope that seeing everyone there to support his dad's charity will help him through. His teacher is running the fun run with him (as a friend) lots of people will be there to help him.
Monday, 6 June 2011
Becoming Pack Leader
After the trip to Yorkshire I came home and looked up the dog trainer, who I encountered one day in the park. It was a particularly bad day, the dog was annoying me, and I randomly picked on this man to tell him I didn't know what to do with my dog. He had given me a card and I had left it lying around the house somewhere.
However I was aware that I needed to do something with the dog. It turns out that they pick up on your stress and take over as "pack leader" if they feel you are not up to the job. All of the hound's bad behaviour was related to my stress levels, and the more nervous I became with him the more badly behaved he was going to be. (In fairness to him, he was trying to be helpful, only in a human world, a dog's idea of helpful isn't that helpful)
Steve Lawrence (the dog trainer) came to the house and did an assessment. Annoyingly, all the things that the dog does with me, he did not even attempt in front of him. Steve put socks out (the dog nicks them off the washing line), the dog left them, he played fetch with Steve quite happily, with me he runs off with the ball! When Steve went to leave, the dog didn't attempt to bolt from the house like he normally does! It appears that in the dog's eyes, I do not have leadership qualities. (His name is Steve Lawrence, you can e mail him at stephen.lawrence7172@yahoo.co.uk, if you have a dog behavioural issue, I would highly recommend him!)
So I have been asserting myself as pack leader again! It is not as easy as when Steve did it, I am breaking three years of bad habits.(It has also occured to me that really I am being trained, not the dog!) The dog trainer has now been round three times and there is a definite improvement, but I fear that there is a long way to go! I now have to structure his walks and bond with him, just leaving him to his own devices and walking is not enough, but it will be worth it in the long run.
It did occur to me that I also needed to reign in The Menace, he was starting to feel that he was in charge! A house run by a six year old is havoc, so I have also been using the "calm assertive" technique on him. I managed to get him back in his own bed, not calling out all the time and generally sleeping better, helped by the fact that I used just after his bedtime to do "playing with the dog in the garden/ bonding".
They say you can learn leadership behaviours! I am doing my best! I was starting to feel in control of my life again, it was all going swimmingly, then we hit the end of May/ June! The busiest time for me (workwise), and also the time The Menace started to show his distress. Half term seems to have brought on a level of distress that wasn't obvious before. I think that this is partly to do with time (apparently it is not unusual for it to take a few months for children to show any signs of upset) and partly to do with it being the "second" holiday without him. In a way the "seconds" are worse than the "firsts". One expects the "firsts" to be hard, but the "seconds" give things a sense of permanancy that wasn't so real before.
I have contacted Grove House (the cancer hospice) to get some help for him, but I am still being "calm assertive". The dog training has been good for me in many ways, I am finding my walks with the dog more relaxing, and it has made me think about how I behave, and how I appear to be in control. Certainly The Menace doesn't like it when I am upset, it appears neither does the dog! Hopefully time and lots of "calm assertive" behaviour from me will lead to a better household!
However I was aware that I needed to do something with the dog. It turns out that they pick up on your stress and take over as "pack leader" if they feel you are not up to the job. All of the hound's bad behaviour was related to my stress levels, and the more nervous I became with him the more badly behaved he was going to be. (In fairness to him, he was trying to be helpful, only in a human world, a dog's idea of helpful isn't that helpful)
Steve Lawrence (the dog trainer) came to the house and did an assessment. Annoyingly, all the things that the dog does with me, he did not even attempt in front of him. Steve put socks out (the dog nicks them off the washing line), the dog left them, he played fetch with Steve quite happily, with me he runs off with the ball! When Steve went to leave, the dog didn't attempt to bolt from the house like he normally does! It appears that in the dog's eyes, I do not have leadership qualities. (His name is Steve Lawrence, you can e mail him at stephen.lawrence7172@yahoo.co.uk, if you have a dog behavioural issue, I would highly recommend him!)
So I have been asserting myself as pack leader again! It is not as easy as when Steve did it, I am breaking three years of bad habits.(It has also occured to me that really I am being trained, not the dog!) The dog trainer has now been round three times and there is a definite improvement, but I fear that there is a long way to go! I now have to structure his walks and bond with him, just leaving him to his own devices and walking is not enough, but it will be worth it in the long run.
It did occur to me that I also needed to reign in The Menace, he was starting to feel that he was in charge! A house run by a six year old is havoc, so I have also been using the "calm assertive" technique on him. I managed to get him back in his own bed, not calling out all the time and generally sleeping better, helped by the fact that I used just after his bedtime to do "playing with the dog in the garden/ bonding".
They say you can learn leadership behaviours! I am doing my best! I was starting to feel in control of my life again, it was all going swimmingly, then we hit the end of May/ June! The busiest time for me (workwise), and also the time The Menace started to show his distress. Half term seems to have brought on a level of distress that wasn't obvious before. I think that this is partly to do with time (apparently it is not unusual for it to take a few months for children to show any signs of upset) and partly to do with it being the "second" holiday without him. In a way the "seconds" are worse than the "firsts". One expects the "firsts" to be hard, but the "seconds" give things a sense of permanancy that wasn't so real before.
I have contacted Grove House (the cancer hospice) to get some help for him, but I am still being "calm assertive". The dog training has been good for me in many ways, I am finding my walks with the dog more relaxing, and it has made me think about how I behave, and how I appear to be in control. Certainly The Menace doesn't like it when I am upset, it appears neither does the dog! Hopefully time and lots of "calm assertive" behaviour from me will lead to a better household!
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
The Englishwoman who went up and hill and came down a mountain,.... only to find it was just another molehill
The title is a tenuous link, but bear with me....
Having just had a lovely week away in Ireland i have spent the "Royal Wedding" bank holiday weekend in Yorkshire at my parents, this is something i was nervous about, and also find difficult to write about. I don't want to offend, but also do need to paint a realistic picture.
The whole time that Kevin has been ill (he was diagnosed with cancer in December 2004) my mother has also been very ill. Just after Kevin finished his first round of chemotherapy my mother had her first stroke. This was in the July of 2005, followed by another really bad one in the September. It was then discovered that she had had a number of ischemic attacks, and the one in September was hemorrhagic (apologies if the spelling of either of these is wrong). Unfortunately the treatment for one causes the other, in other words there was nothing they could do. Over the past 6 years my mother has become more and more debilitated with multi-infarct dementia. She is now unable to do much more than eat (she has to be fed), sleep and bodily functions (she has been in a wheelchair since September 2005).
Over the years in between Kevin's treatments i have taken time off to also go and look after my mum so my step father can have a break. At first she would talk to us, her short term memory was bad, but she knew who we were, now she nods sometimes, occasionally says yes or no, but that is it. These responses are also intermittent so it is hard to know what she takes in, or doesn't.
Kevin was so accepting of his illness, and this has helped me to be very matter of fact about medical conditions. However, i regret to say that my step father's approach is very different. He insists that only her outside body is affected and that mum hears and knows everything we say. I am not convinced. The last time i went to Yorkshire before Kevin died was in September last year. I went on my own, i left Kevin and the Menace with a team of support around them in case it was needed. Before that we would go sometimes as a family and my role would be to look after mum, Kevin would keep the Menace amused and we would do our best to "keep up appearances". I would always end up very tense, not surprisingly Kevin never really enjoyed these visits, and afterwards we would either end up in fits of giggles about the situation or have a huge row. Here is why:
I come from what Kate Fox* would class as a very middle class family. My step-father is ex navy, my own father was ex-army. Standards and protocol must be maintained at all times. There is a table cloth for breakfast, not for dinner. There must always be a jug of water, etc. No illness or small children affects this standard, we maintain them at all times. I obviously don't maintain this in my own home, i think mealtimes should be enjoyed and relaxed and with it just being the Menace and myself we tend to get up for what we need, eat, chat, get down, enjoy. As Goffman** states small children are not good for maintainting the pretence, and the Menace finds the formality constraining, this was kind of manageable when Kevin was there, not so easy now. Mum takes about two hours to eat her meal, and i don't want Dennis to have to sit through the whole thing (in fairness he is not expected to, but it is a very long adult meal, nonetheless). I am also aware that when we are there, Dennis finds the attention i give to mum hard to watch, he tends to whine and get "needy"(this is hardly surprising after everything he hs been through), i have resolved that i will not go unless there is one of my siblings there and other children for him to play with.
This time my step-sister and her husband and daughter were there. The Menace has company and we were all able to muck in and maintain the levels of performativity. I'll explain: Foucault*** explains social constructionism through society's need to problematise issues (saying what is wrong, helps us to define what is right) and politicise them. My step-father has been a carer for 6 years, but prior to this was a business man, and an navy officer. He has turned problematising and politicising into an art form and a hobby/ habit. Everything is treated with the same level of detail (Foucault emphasised the importance of detail), from deconstructing the state of the nation to how many beans, cut in what style and cooked for how long.... we must have. Not only are we judged by these exacting standards, but also by the behaviour or our dogs (mine isn't that well behaved), i know that if i blow a whistle, it is unlikely my dog will be sitting at my heel, ready to jump through a hoop on the next command, so the only way i felt comfortable, was to run to the top of the nearest hill (it is quite steep) and let the dog off his lead so he could have a run, and then come back both myself and the dog exhausted (hence the tenuous link to the title - by the way this run took me an hour and a half each time). All of this demonstration of enthusiasm and attitude is a great distraction from the real issues. These are:
- My father feels isolated and lonely, he is angry that he has to make all the difficult decisions about my mother's care. (Legally this is up to him, none of us can do anything without his permission) He has said before that he is fed up with making decisions, but i have tried to take them off him, he will not relinquish them.
- My father is bored and frustrated with his life of caring.(The detail and care into everything is a way of holding onto the life he had before he became a carer - these are important to him as a symbol of his position and status, hence he wants to hold onto them)
_ How much is my mother really "in there"? Is she happy? (These are the really difficult questions, that we are all trying to avoid asking, because we can't answer them. I would like to point out that whilst i have vented my frustration at the silly things, as a family we are all doing that because facing these "big" things is too difficult for us all to do. I assume this is natural behaviour (having done this over my husband's and my mother's illness for 5 years, i know no other way)).
I really missed Kevin on the journey home - i had no-one to deconstruct the weekend with, no-one to sound off to. My poor friend who came round that evening got a bit of an ear bashing. I had an appointment at the GP the next morning, he said i had raised blood pressure, i have to go back in a week to see if this is a false reading or not. Ireland may have been relaxing as it gave me a chance to escape. Yorkshire was less so as i had to confront things.
Oh, and the molehill bit - i am not very good at all the funny little games we construct to help distract us from the "big" questions, they all seem a bit meaningless in light of other issues.
References (desparately trying not to be too academic so flouting the conventions of referencing slightly)
Kate Fox (2004) Watching the English: the hidden rules of behaviour. Hodder and Stoughton Ltd
Erving Goffman (1959) The presentation of self in everyday life. Penguin
Michel Foucault(1975) Discipline and punish: the birth of the prison. Penguin
Having just had a lovely week away in Ireland i have spent the "Royal Wedding" bank holiday weekend in Yorkshire at my parents, this is something i was nervous about, and also find difficult to write about. I don't want to offend, but also do need to paint a realistic picture.
The whole time that Kevin has been ill (he was diagnosed with cancer in December 2004) my mother has also been very ill. Just after Kevin finished his first round of chemotherapy my mother had her first stroke. This was in the July of 2005, followed by another really bad one in the September. It was then discovered that she had had a number of ischemic attacks, and the one in September was hemorrhagic (apologies if the spelling of either of these is wrong). Unfortunately the treatment for one causes the other, in other words there was nothing they could do. Over the past 6 years my mother has become more and more debilitated with multi-infarct dementia. She is now unable to do much more than eat (she has to be fed), sleep and bodily functions (she has been in a wheelchair since September 2005).
Over the years in between Kevin's treatments i have taken time off to also go and look after my mum so my step father can have a break. At first she would talk to us, her short term memory was bad, but she knew who we were, now she nods sometimes, occasionally says yes or no, but that is it. These responses are also intermittent so it is hard to know what she takes in, or doesn't.
Kevin was so accepting of his illness, and this has helped me to be very matter of fact about medical conditions. However, i regret to say that my step father's approach is very different. He insists that only her outside body is affected and that mum hears and knows everything we say. I am not convinced. The last time i went to Yorkshire before Kevin died was in September last year. I went on my own, i left Kevin and the Menace with a team of support around them in case it was needed. Before that we would go sometimes as a family and my role would be to look after mum, Kevin would keep the Menace amused and we would do our best to "keep up appearances". I would always end up very tense, not surprisingly Kevin never really enjoyed these visits, and afterwards we would either end up in fits of giggles about the situation or have a huge row. Here is why:
I come from what Kate Fox* would class as a very middle class family. My step-father is ex navy, my own father was ex-army. Standards and protocol must be maintained at all times. There is a table cloth for breakfast, not for dinner. There must always be a jug of water, etc. No illness or small children affects this standard, we maintain them at all times. I obviously don't maintain this in my own home, i think mealtimes should be enjoyed and relaxed and with it just being the Menace and myself we tend to get up for what we need, eat, chat, get down, enjoy. As Goffman** states small children are not good for maintainting the pretence, and the Menace finds the formality constraining, this was kind of manageable when Kevin was there, not so easy now. Mum takes about two hours to eat her meal, and i don't want Dennis to have to sit through the whole thing (in fairness he is not expected to, but it is a very long adult meal, nonetheless). I am also aware that when we are there, Dennis finds the attention i give to mum hard to watch, he tends to whine and get "needy"(this is hardly surprising after everything he hs been through), i have resolved that i will not go unless there is one of my siblings there and other children for him to play with.
This time my step-sister and her husband and daughter were there. The Menace has company and we were all able to muck in and maintain the levels of performativity. I'll explain: Foucault*** explains social constructionism through society's need to problematise issues (saying what is wrong, helps us to define what is right) and politicise them. My step-father has been a carer for 6 years, but prior to this was a business man, and an navy officer. He has turned problematising and politicising into an art form and a hobby/ habit. Everything is treated with the same level of detail (Foucault emphasised the importance of detail), from deconstructing the state of the nation to how many beans, cut in what style and cooked for how long.... we must have. Not only are we judged by these exacting standards, but also by the behaviour or our dogs (mine isn't that well behaved), i know that if i blow a whistle, it is unlikely my dog will be sitting at my heel, ready to jump through a hoop on the next command, so the only way i felt comfortable, was to run to the top of the nearest hill (it is quite steep) and let the dog off his lead so he could have a run, and then come back both myself and the dog exhausted (hence the tenuous link to the title - by the way this run took me an hour and a half each time). All of this demonstration of enthusiasm and attitude is a great distraction from the real issues. These are:
- My father feels isolated and lonely, he is angry that he has to make all the difficult decisions about my mother's care. (Legally this is up to him, none of us can do anything without his permission) He has said before that he is fed up with making decisions, but i have tried to take them off him, he will not relinquish them.
- My father is bored and frustrated with his life of caring.(The detail and care into everything is a way of holding onto the life he had before he became a carer - these are important to him as a symbol of his position and status, hence he wants to hold onto them)
_ How much is my mother really "in there"? Is she happy? (These are the really difficult questions, that we are all trying to avoid asking, because we can't answer them. I would like to point out that whilst i have vented my frustration at the silly things, as a family we are all doing that because facing these "big" things is too difficult for us all to do. I assume this is natural behaviour (having done this over my husband's and my mother's illness for 5 years, i know no other way)).
I really missed Kevin on the journey home - i had no-one to deconstruct the weekend with, no-one to sound off to. My poor friend who came round that evening got a bit of an ear bashing. I had an appointment at the GP the next morning, he said i had raised blood pressure, i have to go back in a week to see if this is a false reading or not. Ireland may have been relaxing as it gave me a chance to escape. Yorkshire was less so as i had to confront things.
Oh, and the molehill bit - i am not very good at all the funny little games we construct to help distract us from the "big" questions, they all seem a bit meaningless in light of other issues.
References (desparately trying not to be too academic so flouting the conventions of referencing slightly)
Kate Fox (2004) Watching the English: the hidden rules of behaviour. Hodder and Stoughton Ltd
Erving Goffman (1959) The presentation of self in everyday life. Penguin
Michel Foucault(1975) Discipline and punish: the birth of the prison. Penguin
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