Patience is a state of limbo – of not expecting or forcing something to happen. Patience is – supposedly – a virtue. I wish it were a commodity that I could go to the store and buy. Because I don’t have any.
I can persevere occasionally. Like today when I’m calling millions and gazillions of nursing homes trying to find an open bed. No you say? No they say. Wow we must be truly in the age of baby boomer‘s parents taking up all the places in the homes. I mean really there aren’t that many people IN Maine – how can all the rooms be full? Yetch. Really they need to die – other people need your spot. Truly. This is not intended to be nice, polite or politically correct. It is time for Grandpa and Grandma to shuffle off this mortal coil and give somebody else a break.
I’d do it if I could but I’m not in a nursing home. I’d still do it because I am past suicidal. I am into God if you don’t get him out of my face in the VERY NEAR FUTURE I am going to kill myself. I just spent an hour getting him off the steps and downstairs to the bathroom where he spent another hour and then I went back to help him get all clean clothes on and start the laundry. That was another hour. Three hours of the day gone just getting him to the bathroom. Is it any wonder I am hysterical. Because I am hysterical.
I can’t even conceive of giving him a bath. That will have to wait for tomorrow because today – after I give him his lunch – I am off. I will do emergency caregiving only. Otherwise I am not here. I am non-existent and anything other than life or death will not bring me out of my room. Nothing.
I just notified LL Bean that I will not be able to come back to work this season. This was a hard decision but totally necessary. I don’t have the energy to tie my shoes, let alone go to work.
Now I will just chill and try to embrace patience. In the moment – always in the moment.