#mildstroke

[jeraldyndee]

My life is a constant battle between my love of food and not wanting to be fat. 🐷🐽🐷🐽

[littlemissmai]

It actually happened to me! Being 25 and taking care of a 60 year-old Mother who is suffering from a mild stroke.

I hate it when people get mad at you just because they worked on something which is supposed to be your work/job. But the truth is, it is also THEIR job!!!

Let me get this fact straight!

I am a 25 year old girl (or woman), going 26. Living with parents. Have 3 sisters and 3 brothers. 6th in the family or second to the youngest. And currently unemployed for almost a year now.

Well, I used to have one. But unfortunately, I resigned due to one reason alone (but just so you know, I did not regret it because it was worth it. She was worth it).

The past two years, I had been working as a Finance Analyst at one of the biggest corporations and shopping malls in the Philippines. I was born and lived in a highly urbanized city, and after I graduated college, I decided to move and look for a job in the capital city of the Philippines.

Last year, February 8, 2015, my Mom suffered a mild stroke. It was almost night time when my sister texted us (my sisters and I) that my Mom is brought to the hospital. The stroke affected the left side of her body.

The next few months were not that easy – being far away from your Mom, out of your reach, and helplessly do nothing except call her and give her your virtual moral support – were the hardest 6 months I have endured and suffered because I worry too much.

A few months later, I decided to resign and moved back from my hometown. To ease the worry at those horrific times.

I never thought, at this age, I would be taking care of my 60 year-old mother – wake up early to prepare her breakfast, prepare her snacks, give her medicines, get her blood pressure, accompany her in the veranda/porch, brush/clean her dentures, clean her chamber pot, help her take a bath and get dress, constantly looking out for her, and asking her every damn hour whether she’s okay or not to the point that it becomes annoying already (my sister’s words, so, yeah).

I spent ten months in this daily ritual and daze. There was a time I was not yet at ease in my new role.

Now at home, I cannot help but think of myself. Sometimes I find myself thinking and pondering what did I do to deserve this? How did I get myself into this situation? Why did I ruin an almost good-life I have back then? Yes, I should have not resigned from my last job, I should have not moved back home, I should have not left the almost good-life and career I used to have. Yes, I should have not. I could have left everything on the hands of my brothers and sisters who were with my Mom.

But the thing is I did! I did resign. I did ruin my life. I did leave. I did move back home.

I am a selfish creature thrust into a selfless situation. And because I love my Mom so much that I would do anything for her. But I guess, destiny gives me far too much credit.

As I mentioned earlier, I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters. 2 sisters are in the capital city of the Philippines, and the rest of them, are living with my parents. But what I cannot understand and comprehend is why is it am I the most productive when taking care of my Mom?

What I meant by productive is – why am I the only shit doing MOST of all those works, when my brothers and sisters can. Ironically, it is just so sad that they keep on pushing all the responsibilities to me. It is as though they waited for me to come home and do all those stuff that I missed; those months when they were still the one doing all those stuff.

On their defense, though, they were and are doing some of the works. To be fair, I am not taking all the credit. However, when they think/thought and/or feel/felt their job is done or they have already done something – granted as though they have already accomplished something and did their part, they refused to do the other stuff. Sigh.

All I ever wanted is for them to acknowledge her – whether if she’s doing okay or not? Does she need or want something? And to just drop by at her room, and see what she’s doing. But no. They can’t even spare the time.

Sad, I know right?

Moving on...

Unpredictable. That sums up what I have learned from the past few months. Mostly between the day-to-day activities of my mother and my family, when I have the moment to look into my own mind, it is a topsy-turvy mess of a puzzle. I feel as though I am accomplishing the bare minimum and running in circles.

Honestly, I am frightened of what the future will hold for my mother and for us. My mom is forced to cope, or at least live with, the reality her life after stroke. There are ebbs and flows in her acceptance. But in reality, coming to terms with her body and living like post stroke will be an enduring and lifelong course. We have already been informed that my mother will never return to a “normal” state of being. That on the incoming years, it will even become more difficult. There will be more obstacles and complications that will ascend which is what her health track record has proven so far. But the unknown factor is what will the complications be, and at what day will they start appearing?

And there is no doubt she understands that. Likewise, I am learning and realizing myself that coping with the realities and turbulence of being her daughter is also lifelong process with an ending that cannot even be comprehended. As far as I know is that I am scared, but so is my Mom.

Life was supposed to be fun. Life was to be an adventure. And life was to be lived. I could be promoted or could have been given a raise by now. I could be spending my money for traveling or spending anything my heart desires. I could mean to meet my soul mate somewhere down the road by now. But no.

The idea of turning away from my Mom? Of leaving her to traverse this depressing place she finds herself in alone – I CANNOT! If there's one thing I want to express it isn't the hardship or the suffering that comes with taking care of a 60 year-old stroke victim and dealing with unreasonable brothers and sisters – but it is the love I have for my dearly loved Mother.

She is my love -- the physical epitome of my beating heart. I simply cannot walk away.

[erickfulgencio]

Hard to admit, at the age of 20 the doctor said that I experienced mild stroke.