No, not me!
Well; in truth, I am a bit grumpy just now, but this post isn’t about me, its about my father. He’s definitely grumpy; sometimes very grumpy, even downright miserable. Of course, he has every reason to be: a hip operation causing mobility problems, shortness of breath, a malfunctioning heart, problems with his skin, problems with his hands and, worst of all, continence problems.
Recent discussion with a friend: “Is continence gong to the loo?” “Yes. Incontinence is going anywhere else!”
In his position, I too would be grumpy.
The truth is that, only two weeks after hospital he is doing amazingly well, managing his continence by sheer will power alone and performing his bed-bound and chair-bound mobility exercise every day, but he hides his progress under a stream of low level grumpiness and occasional bursts of frustration, even anger, at his situation. He catastrophises minor inconveniences, something simple like dropping his pen becoming a major crisis that might bring me rushing into the sitting room: “Dad, Dad, what’s happened??”
He’s hard to be around when he’s like this and I have caught myself fighting back, telling him, unfairly it now seems, that his behaviour makes me feel I’m doing a poor job at looking after him. I don’t like that I used that response.
I wouldn’t think any more of it; he was, after all, just like this when he was looking after my mum, his frustration often breaking though his love and care for her, but I’m seeing patterns now that make me think deeper about his moods. In the morning, if he hasn’t slept well, and often towards the end of the day, he can have a spell of an hour or more full only of gloomy, despairing commentary laced with stress and anxiety about the minutia of his daily life. At these times he is completely resistant to all attempts to provide cheer, and I try to just listen calmly until the gloom has receded.
I’m starting to ask myself where being grumpy might end and where suffering from depression might begin. I’m wondering if something beyond a cup of tea and a slice of freshly made cake from a neighbour might be required to avoid “things getting on top of him” becoming a downwards spiral, out of which it might be hard to pull him.
Aging parents can be a worry.
I feel for you, and recognise these signs very clearly. I think at this stage their sleep is not refreshing, their body is no longer comfortable (I often thought my Dad would benefit from so physio or a regular massage). I felt that some of my Dad’s raging represented him being infuriated at what he found he could no longer do efficiently.
The role of carer is a difficult, wearing one and you need to be patient and forgiving to yourself, as well as to him. Perhaps some research into depression might help you feel that youre handling your father correctly. None of this is easy, but this post depicted your situation with clarity. xx