By AMY SHANKLAND
Sandwiched
When someone asks me what is the hardest part of being in the sandwich generation, I immediately reply “the role reversal.” After decades of your mother or father parenting and advising you, it seems like all of a sudden you have to parent them. And it involves a roller coaster of emotions.
After meeting someone new, I’ll sometimes explain to them that I have a 21-year-old child, a 19-year-old child, and an 89-year-old child. I don’t mean any disrespect to my mother with that, but it helps lighten the mood.
Mom’s hospice nurse Laurie (one of her many angels) called me Tuesday to update me on what she is seeing. Mom’s pain continues to worsen, which is heartbreaking. It’s also not surprising with her advanced cancer. And she’s refusing to take showers, which a hospice aide tries to help her with two times a week.
I can understand that. Right now, any movement hurts, even with pain medication. However, once Mom’s in the shower, it soothes those aches and pains tremendously.
Laurie and I tried to figure out how to convince Mom to suffer through some pain in order to get great relief. I explained to Laurie that I could talk to Mom about it, but she’d forget the conversation as soon as I walked out the door.
“Would you be able to come over one morning when the aide comes to try to convince her?” Laurie asked. I looked over my schedule and was once again thankful to work for myself. I told Laurie that I would make myself available to do so for the next three days.
As soon as I hung up the phone I sighed (sighing is a tremendous help in the sandwich generation by the way … it’s an alternative to screaming and can be done in public.)
I instantly felt that role reversal. I pictured myself in Mom’s apartment talking to her gently and trying everything in my power to persuade her to get in that shower. It felt like I was a mom to young ones again trying to coax them to take a bath after they repeatedly refused.
The whole thing is a delicate line. You certainly can’t treat your elderly parent like a child – they’ve earned your respect. You don’t want to be patronizing. But you also have to be firm.
I often utilize a principle I learned when I taught the Dale Carnegie Human Relations course – put yourself in the other person’s shoes. As I write this, I haven’t seen Mom yet, but I’m thinking I’ll explain to her that I know she’s hurting. I can’t even imagine the pain.
I’ll work with the aide to explain how good she’ll feel once she sits on the shower seat and lets that warm water surround her. Her aide will also give her a gentle massage, which will be soothing.
Let’s hope this role reversal yields a good outcome.