Dear Readers,
I have written to you in the bloggy past about the importance of getting organized, and now I think it's time to revisit the whole topic, because my senior moments are increasing in frequency and intensity. There is no time like the present for me to report on the ways I am currently helping myself to become a more efficient caregiver. Some of these ideas may be huge ...some not! (Wait till you're almost 80 years old and you can hear your mind crumbling. (Take my word for it. It's a bummer.)
The other day I decided to buy a medicine wheel and load it up once a week with all of my patient's pills. I had been coping with a daily routine of pulling more than a dozen pills out of bottles and dumping them into a Dixie cup for Rawbaw to take with water throughout her waking hours. About 10,000 pills later, it dawned on me that I could put a lot of time back into my life by simply loading a medicine wheel once a week! It was a red-faced moment for me, but, hey, it's never too late to make a bright move.
I have also recently started posting recurring things-to-do to my master calendar — things such as Rawbaw's next bath-bench shower, repetitive housecleaning activities, weekly trips to the doggie park with Doggie Brooke, and other routine events about which I need constant reminders.
Beyond that, I am lecturing myself on writing all the monthly checks (hers, mine, and ours) in a timely fashion to avoid extra fees. To do otherwise would be to say I am obscenely rich and can afford such behavior. (I'm not, and I can't.)
Another progressive step forward, if I can pull it off: I am currently trying to shame myself into cleaning the stove (which, to my knowledge, has not been cleaned in years) and using Windex spray on all the ground-floor windows to improve our view of the world. (My alternative actions would be (1) to continue to cook exclusively on top of the stove, and (2) to open the front door of Rawbaw's house whenever I want to check the weather.)
Brushing the dog's fur daily for loose hair and bagging it for discreet disposal would also be a grand idea. I'll start tonight. (No, I won't. Rawbaw and I have been trying to get each other to do it for years. Rawbaw's excuse is that she has short-term memory loss and can't remember to get at it. My excuse, not nearly as good, is more complicated: a blend of abstraction, sloth, and self-pity, I suspect.)
Knowing what a poor housekeeper I am, I am realistically thinking about getting a squad of Merry Maids in here on a regular basis. The dust and dog hair accumulating in this old house [ cough/hack/snort ] should be dealt with authoritatively.
I am discovering that getting organized also requires me to accept a lot of charity, and I am getting quite good at that. When a friend or family member offers to do something for me purely as a favor, at no cost to me (other than a diminishing sense of self-reliance), I jump on it, clearly seeing the need for other people to do lots of stuff that has obviously been slipping through the cracks in my resolve to be a miracle worker.
Our next-door neighbor has offered to remove small trees from near the foundation of Rawbaw's house, and you can bet I will take him up on that. He has a big snow blower, too. So, I will let the white stuff pile up on my driveway and sidewalk next winter till he once again takes pity on me (or the neighbor lady on the other side of us takes pity — she has an even bigger snow blower and has bailed me out before, too).
Whenever Rawbaw's sons stop by to visit, I also take advantage of their generosity. For one thing, they are forever solving my problems with Rawbaw's computer and computer-linked (Magic Jack) phone system. J & J Electronics would stop by, too, for a price, but my nephews are free! And they know I am an old dog who's unwilling to learn much about such things. So, they just fix whatever's wrong and tell me what to do “the next time that happens,” knowing full well I don't understand what they're talking about and will just reach out to them again. Nice boys!
I have no shame. I call Rawbaw's best friends, who also happen to be gourmet cooks, and remind them that they haven't delivered a gourmet meal in a while. This always triggers a visit to our humble home and a night of great grub and wonderful fellowship.
In a very real sense, being a caregiver empowers you to lean on everyone around you for love and support. My advice to you is: do it!
The silver lining in all this is really neat. By getting organized to make yourself a better caregiver, you also improve your efficiency at living, in general.
Now I find myself planning ahead before I hop into my car to drive around town on errands of all kinds. I don't just write a list of things to get, but figure out the most time-efficient way to drive to all the places where I'll find them — and I'll consequently burn less gasoline.
Getting organized is also leading me to forming good habits. More exercise (especially regular walks in the park all summer — and at the YMCA's indoor track all winter) would help me lose weight, tone my aging carcass, and greatly increase my chances of enjoying good health into the distant future.
I may even start voting in local elections! I have never taken the time to get informed about local issues, but should.
To sum things up, getting organized will allow me to do more in less time, and the time I save can be applied to things I've talked about doing since Heck was a pup. Reading more. Learning a musical instrument. Volunteering hours to a favorite charity — such as the time I spend writing my caregiving blog for ICAN, the International Cancer Advocacy Network. Or the time I may yet volunteer to a local hospital or library.
It's downright amazing how life-altering a little bit of organizing can be. I will report further on the new me in Chapter Eighteen, by which time I hope you all are a bit better organized, too. If you are, you will have your own success stories to tell!
—Michael E. Hearons
