Caring Today Blog

PRICELESS

Posted by Debbie on: December 18th, 2008

With the help of a state trooper, a couple of paramedics, some firemen and one tough mother, Debbie looks back at some amazing "to-the-rescue" caregiving moments in the latest post of My So-Called (Caregiver) Life. 
 

For as long as I can remember, my dad was medically fragile. The good news was that my mom was anurse and did some pretty fine nursing at home. 
 
You know the credit card commercial that runs "blah blah, a thousand dollars; having your own blah blah, priceless". Well, here are some of my "real- life" versions of those ads from years past.

A state trooper in Alaska earns $65,000 a year; knowing they have oxygen in their trunk, priceless. Back story: Dad was having a heart attack and a policeman beat the paramedics to the house. All I can say is, must have been his first day on the job. He ran in circles, wringing his hands and chanting, "oh noooo," then, "oh noooooo!"  Each "no" got longer. My mom looked at him, rolled her eyes and snapped at him, "Get the oxygen out of your trunk!" He thanked her and said, "Oh yes, good idea." 

A paramedic's starting salary in Anchorage is approximately $50,000 a year; having a mom that trains them, priceless. Another time, the paramedics made it in time but had difficulty starting an IV on my Dad. They stabbed at him over and over again, missing or blowing the veins repeatedly. Thoroughly disgusted, my mom pushed them out of the way, climbed on the bed and straddled my dad. She took the IV bag and held it in her mouth while she started the IV herself.

An electrician in Alaska earns about 40,000 a year; having firemen willing to do the work, priceless. While Mom worked on my dad, only one paramedic was needed to assist her. Others who'd answered our emergency call took stock of the house and changed all the light bulbs as a couple were burnt out and my parents were not ladder-friendly people. Luckily, one of the firemen was so tall he could reach the ceiling lights without out even going on tiptoe. They wandered around, replacing here, checking wiring there, etc. while they waited for Mom to stabilize Dad.

Having hospice and knowing that it's paid for by Medicare; having a lifetime of absorbing my mother's wisdom, priceless. When the lovely woman from hospice came and visited Dad, she'd give me his vitals.  Those vitals were my signposts. I could see him declining but having numbers to watch reinforced what I was thinking and feeling.

And the best thing was this one spectacular day when Dad seemed so healthy. His blood pressure was 100/80-I told him he was a big faker and just wanted some attention. He laughed—and I grabbed the phone and called his sister.

I walked out of the room and explained that this was most likely going to be their last call and to talk as long as they could. I handed Dad the phone and walked away, giving them time alone. They spoke, told stories and laughed for two hours. 

Being able to see and take advantage of those final "good moments," priceless.