Getting old is no fun, but there are things to be grateful for

We are getting to the stage when we need a replacement for most working parts. Hips, knees brain, legs! Yet still we continue keeping the home going and trying to keep the jungle we call a garden done.

When the Government offered us help in the form of a care package, we decided to get the very kind person from the local health service to come and see us for a chat. She sat drinking tea as we listed our ailments. My husband is nearly 83 and suffering atrial fibrillation, decreased level of mobility and a few other minor problems. I have rheumatoid arthritis and am on Warfarin for a similar heart condition taking enough pills to put an elephant out.

She offered us weekly home care, which is basic, and suggested some possible alterations for the home, like a step into the high shower edge, and some grab bars. It seemed a good idea but the things we really needed not so easy, the grass cutting in a large garden is becoming difficult, they don’t offer that, but will ‘tidy up’ a couple of times a year, and the other things, like climbing ladders to do the air-conditioner or high cleaning. Nope. Like us, no one can climb ladders. Maintenance department at the hospital can be called on occasionally to do that and possibly the windows.

This is an old house and not easy to clean, high ceiling and dusty corners leer at me and I try to pretend I can’t see the cobwebs. We agreed we might have the home care person come for an hour, to vacuum and wash floors, but I decided once a fortnight was enough. The other jobs might get done, but the time scale was rather open ended.

I worked at the hospital in aged care for about eight years, and before that I was doing showering and home visits to remote places, for very neat and tidy widows and some crusty old men in caravans, so I had some knowledge of the job. I also know all the people who do the work.

This is a disadvantage, it’s weird being the one on the receiving end and not the worker. When my home carer came I chatted but felt very strange about it. It did not sit well with me. The next fortnight I felt even worse and although the man who came did a good job I was feeling more uncomfortable. I rang after that visit, and cancelled the help.

I am now back to doing what I can when I can. I garden when I am having a good day, attack weeds, cut things back and then crawl about with all my parts hurting for a day or so. But a glass of wine fixes that. I clean the shower sometimes, but mostly I swipe at it with a long handled sponge and then spray the doors with window cleaner.

The hidden and hard to reach corners and skirting boards get neglected so I found a washing up brush on a stick to reach those. I find sneaky ways of reaching things or cheating, mostly I find the basic needs are clean beds and clothes. I insist on that, so the fight to get the doona cover on is a battle sometimes. When my arthritis was severe I just put the cover on the top and gave up.

I have shed tears in winter hanging clothes out, yet I still do it. I love cooking but hate washing up, so thank goodness my husband does that. He also cuts the odd lawn and we try to make sure we have money to pay a young man to cut the nature strip or sometimes do one of the four lawn areas. This getting old is no fun, but I am so glad we have good friends that we eat well, and survive in spite of our slight disabilities, we never give in and going out for a drink and a meal on Friday night is the antidote to any worries.

What things are you grateful for? Have you found you need more help around the home?

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