For Bil, my autistic brother in law, his mother, and us, it has not been the best 10 days.
My mother in law, Bil's mother, fell and hit her side and then her head. Bil pulled the emergency cord in her apartment for her, but she wouldn't let the paramedics take her to the ER. She didn't want Bil left alone because thunderstorms were threatening.
We ended up taking her, and Bil was so bored because he could not control the TV in the waiting room. And, finally, he decided he wanted to be home after all.
A CT scan of mil's head was negative. A stroke of luck. It could have been so much worse.
When they asked my mother in law if she had hurt anything else, she said only "I am old. I hurt everywhere." It turns out, after a second trip to the ER after she couldn't stand the pain any more, that she had broken her tailbone. There was nothing to be done, only pain management.
But our mother in law has two other sons besides Bil, and both are very much in her life. Another stroke of luck.
The next day was the Fourth of July, and Bil wanted to be at our house, where we were entertaining several other family members. The plan was to have a BBQ and bring the leftovers (we made sure there were plenty of leftovers) to my mother in law's house.
When we took Bil home, Bil's first words to his mother were "have you eaten?"
Many people believe autistic people don't care about others in their lives. They are wrong. We are lucky in another aspect - Bil is verbal, and is a great help to his mother. How lucky.
But this is only a small part of the story. There's a lot more, but I will blog about it more next week.
Wish us luck.
Linking with Sanch Vee and #FridayReflections. Today's prompt: Lucky.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Friday, July 7, 2017
Friday, June 30, 2017
The Ultimate Conversation
We all will die one day.
There, I said it.
It's a truth we humans like to avoid We use all kinds of euphemisms in describing it. Passing on. Passing away. Going to heaven. Being promoted to glory. Going to sleep in the arms of the Lord. Taking a dirt nap.
Euphemisms don't work too well with people who are autistic. Many of them take these euphemisms literally.
Yet, we were warned recently, we do have to talk to Bil about the upcoming death of his mother. No, she isn't terminally ill. But, she just fell again, earlier this week, and it's a matter of time. That "matter of time" may be numbered in years. Or months. We just don't know.
But it's important to do it right.
For example, if you want to talk to him about his mother (who is elderly) dying one day, we were told you can't say to him "one day, your Mom will be gone". That might well mean that she is going to walk out of their shared apartment one day and maybe she'll be back tomorrow, or the next day.
No, it has to be in the sense that death is natural, and it is going to happen.
We need to prepare him for this most unpleasant event which will come one day.
One thing in our favor is that his father has died, so he is not a stranger to death. But, after his father's death, little changed.
This time, everything will change.
So, the ultimate conversation will have to happen, and soon.
We just have to figure out how.
There, I said it.
It's a truth we humans like to avoid We use all kinds of euphemisms in describing it. Passing on. Passing away. Going to heaven. Being promoted to glory. Going to sleep in the arms of the Lord. Taking a dirt nap.
Euphemisms don't work too well with people who are autistic. Many of them take these euphemisms literally.
Yet, we were warned recently, we do have to talk to Bil about the upcoming death of his mother. No, she isn't terminally ill. But, she just fell again, earlier this week, and it's a matter of time. That "matter of time" may be numbered in years. Or months. We just don't know.
But it's important to do it right.
For example, if you want to talk to him about his mother (who is elderly) dying one day, we were told you can't say to him "one day, your Mom will be gone". That might well mean that she is going to walk out of their shared apartment one day and maybe she'll be back tomorrow, or the next day.
No, it has to be in the sense that death is natural, and it is going to happen.
We need to prepare him for this most unpleasant event which will come one day.
One thing in our favor is that his father has died, so he is not a stranger to death. But, after his father's death, little changed.
This time, everything will change.
So, the ultimate conversation will have to happen, and soon.
We just have to figure out how.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Mortality #atozchallenge
We all face endings in our lives. It is hard for all of us to cope,
but we have resources - intelligence, life experience, and the ability
to reach out for help.
My brother in law, "Bil", is about to reach an ending in his life. And his disability limits how he can cope, or reach out for help.
Today's post is about mortality.
My mother in law will turn 90 later this year, as my husband and I turn 65. She is not in the best of health. Without Bil, and some other assistance, she wouldn't be able to live independently.
One day, perhaps soon, perhaps not, she will no longer be able to take care of Bil. And, eventually, she will reach the end we all do, because we are all mortal.
I've wondered, for years: How will Bil react to this ending in his life? I suspect that it will be different from when his father died, nearly 20 years ago. Bil didn't really react to it, not in a way that we not on the autistic spectrum would recognize. In fact, he blamed the family cat for his father's death. (His father died in his sleep from a heart attack). How he came to this conclusion, I don't know.
Bil's father didn't participate that much in Bil's upbringing. I don't remember much interaction between Bil and his father, in fact.
None of us is getting younger. His two brothers and his two sisters in law are all older than Bil is. And that's another worry, too. Autism does not shorten your life span. Bil is in better health than all four of us. Chances are, we will all predecease him.
I dread the day when we will find out the answer to the question of how Bil will react to his mother's death. His mother has been his caregiver, his companion, his interpreter of the world, his advocate, for his entire life. The conversations about this are going to have to come soon, though. That is also something else we must face.
How do we approach it?
It's all part of "M" day for the Unknown Journey Ahead, my theme for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.
My brother in law, "Bil", is about to reach an ending in his life. And his disability limits how he can cope, or reach out for help.
Today's post is about mortality.
My mother in law will turn 90 later this year, as my husband and I turn 65. She is not in the best of health. Without Bil, and some other assistance, she wouldn't be able to live independently.
One day, perhaps soon, perhaps not, she will no longer be able to take care of Bil. And, eventually, she will reach the end we all do, because we are all mortal.
I've wondered, for years: How will Bil react to this ending in his life? I suspect that it will be different from when his father died, nearly 20 years ago. Bil didn't really react to it, not in a way that we not on the autistic spectrum would recognize. In fact, he blamed the family cat for his father's death. (His father died in his sleep from a heart attack). How he came to this conclusion, I don't know.
Bil's father didn't participate that much in Bil's upbringing. I don't remember much interaction between Bil and his father, in fact.
None of us is getting younger. His two brothers and his two sisters in law are all older than Bil is. And that's another worry, too. Autism does not shorten your life span. Bil is in better health than all four of us. Chances are, we will all predecease him.
I dread the day when we will find out the answer to the question of how Bil will react to his mother's death. His mother has been his caregiver, his companion, his interpreter of the world, his advocate, for his entire life. The conversations about this are going to have to come soon, though. That is also something else we must face.
How do we approach it?
It's all part of "M" day for the Unknown Journey Ahead, my theme for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.
Friday, February 17, 2017
The Cat Killed Him
I am scared about what will happen when my mother in law dies, and my brother in law, "Bil", faces life without his mother for the first time in his life. "Bil", as my regular readers know, is developmentally disabled.
His mother in law has been there nearly every day of his over 55 years of life. Except for several hospitalizations, and a couple of vacations away from her (during which he was cared for by other family members), she has been in his life daily.
His mother is her interpreter, the person who helps him understand the world. She has cooked for him, cleaned for him, took him to family gatherings. Until the last two years, she was his transportation, as Bil has never been able to learn to drive, and has never been taught to use public transportation. She helped to order his life. Someone, once, observing them, mentioned they sat together like an old married couple.
It's a relationship we can understand intellectually, but not emotionally.
When his father died, he didn't seem to be affected that much. In fact, his reaction was somewhat puzzling.
He blamed his father's death on the family cat.
He didn't try to harm the cat, no. But he insisted that the cat had killed his father. I think the cat also realized that he wasn't all that welcome. Eventually, he went to live with a neighbor, one who owned a cat. The neighbor welcomed the cat and fed him when he showed up. One day, the family cat never returned, deciding he would rather live with the nieghbor.
To this day, we don't understand "Bil"'s logic, and why Bil felt that the cat had killed his father.
But, we know, when his mother (who is nearly 90) passes, it will be different.
We do know his father in law didn't participate that much in his day to day care. It was always his mother who took care of him. His father was in the background.
We don't know how Bil will react. Will he listen to us? Will he show temper and refuse to be reasoned with? It scares me. The thought of my husband's death, or my death, doesn't scare me nearly as much.
What we do know is that the state will not let him stay in the apartment he shares with his mother. And we are not sure how much he understands how much his life will change.
Can any of us truly understand what her death will mean to all of us?
We will have a meeting later this month with a social service agency, and learn more about his future, and what we can do to make sure that Bil's wishes are honored.
Today, I am blogging from a prompt "What scares you most about dying?" at Living My Imperfect Life.
His mother in law has been there nearly every day of his over 55 years of life. Except for several hospitalizations, and a couple of vacations away from her (during which he was cared for by other family members), she has been in his life daily.
His mother is her interpreter, the person who helps him understand the world. She has cooked for him, cleaned for him, took him to family gatherings. Until the last two years, she was his transportation, as Bil has never been able to learn to drive, and has never been taught to use public transportation. She helped to order his life. Someone, once, observing them, mentioned they sat together like an old married couple.
It's a relationship we can understand intellectually, but not emotionally.
When his father died, he didn't seem to be affected that much. In fact, his reaction was somewhat puzzling.
He blamed his father's death on the family cat.
He didn't try to harm the cat, no. But he insisted that the cat had killed his father. I think the cat also realized that he wasn't all that welcome. Eventually, he went to live with a neighbor, one who owned a cat. The neighbor welcomed the cat and fed him when he showed up. One day, the family cat never returned, deciding he would rather live with the nieghbor.
To this day, we don't understand "Bil"'s logic, and why Bil felt that the cat had killed his father.
But, we know, when his mother (who is nearly 90) passes, it will be different.
We do know his father in law didn't participate that much in his day to day care. It was always his mother who took care of him. His father was in the background.
We don't know how Bil will react. Will he listen to us? Will he show temper and refuse to be reasoned with? It scares me. The thought of my husband's death, or my death, doesn't scare me nearly as much.
What we do know is that the state will not let him stay in the apartment he shares with his mother. And we are not sure how much he understands how much his life will change.
Can any of us truly understand what her death will mean to all of us?
We will have a meeting later this month with a social service agency, and learn more about his future, and what we can do to make sure that Bil's wishes are honored.
Today, I am blogging from a prompt "What scares you most about dying?" at Living My Imperfect Life.
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