Kristyn wrote a great article a few weeks ago about being the Blood Sugar Police. It really struck a chord with me because while she cares for a son with diabetes, I am helping care for a grandmother with diabetes. I live with my eighty year old grandmother, and am one of her primary caretakers. We have good days and bad days… and the bad days can be really bad.
“Why don’t you just leave an old lady alone to die?”
That’s my favorite quote. (Not really.) It’s what she says when someone is nagging her to take her medicine, or eat better to control her blood sugar, or exercise a little, or get ready for the latest doctor’s appointment.
Where Kristyn is in the position of giving her diabetic son more responsibility for his own care and watchdogging, my grandmother is surrendering her responsibility. She doesn’t fill her own pill tray for the week. She can’t or won’t give her own insulin shots — even though the doctor ordered a special injector with large numbers on the dial for people with poor vision. She doesn’t watch her portion sizes. She doesn’t get up and exercise unless someone else takes her for a walk — even though she owns a treadmill!
The excuses can be very frustrating. “I don’t feel like it.” “I’m an old lady, I deserve to do what I want.” “I’m tired of taking all these pills.” “I’m tired of all this.” On bad days, I want to snap back. It’s very hard not to sometimes!
And I know I’m not the greatest “nurse” in the world. I didn’t move in here with the intention of being her caretaker… it just sort of happened. I’m here, it’s convenient (for the rest of the family) for me to give shots and make sure she takes her medicine and make sure she eats. And I’m not doing it alone; my mother comes over at least twice a day to check in and help with the shots. We also have a health aide who comes by to give my grandmother a bath twice a week, since she’s lazy about that, too.
My grandmother doesn’t have to be an invalid. She isn’t incapable. She isn’t totally senile or totally helpless. But it seems like somewhere along the line, she chose to be helpless. She seems comfortable with the rest of the family taking care of her doctor’s visits, daily shots and medicine, and everything else. And who knows… maybe when I’m eighty, I’ll want to give up responsibility and let somebody else take care of everything.
But being the Health Police is very tiring. Some days, it’s a fight to get every pill down her throat. It’s very hard to watch a person deteriorate right in front of you. I want her to be the cool grandmother she used to be, who would rent musicals with me and go shopping and go out to lunch with her retired teacher buddies. She used to be so feisty… and now she’s so passive. It’s very hard to live with sometimes.