Seeing My Inlaws
Mar. 30th, 2026 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canyonwalkerSpring Family Visit Travelog #4
At the house · Sun 29 Mar 2026. 10pm.
We arrived this morning to visit my inlaws for the next week. One thing we knew we'd confront right away is MIL's health situation. Though she's in her 80s and has contended with a variety of (non-terminal) health conditions for many years she's remained very sharp, maintaining the home and the household finances, and as mobile as pain from the not-willing-to-work-as-a-team parts of her body allow her to be. But that's different now.
She's still mentally sharp, but mobility, even around the house, has taken a nosedive. She sits in her armchair most of the day and all night. (She can't sleep lying down for reasons.) She's in pain, has low energy, has little appetite, and can't swallow and eat most foods. And because she's still mentally sharp everything is actually harder. She is aware every minute of the day how adult things she used to take for granted that she could still do even in her 80s, she now cannot. Every minute she's confronted by a fresh reminder of disability.
FIL is dutiful as her caretaker. He's in his 80s, too, and is in worse shape than she was, pre- this cancer, but is earnestly doing the best he can. The challenge is he's close to worthless at housework. He needs detailed instructions on where to find things, what to do with them, and how to pack them away when he's done. MIL is fine with giving instructions. She's a very exacting person, so she's accustomed to it. But unfortunately this creates a dynamic where every mundane household thing, dozens of times a day, devolves into a game of Twenty Questions. MILs is constantly having to answer questions, 'What do you want?", "Where is that?", "How to do it?", etc. And combine that with the fact that FIL is hard of hearing, with a hearing aid that only works about 50% at best, and MIL can't speak very loudly, and "Twenty Questions" turns into more of a Laurel & Hardy "Who's on First?" farce. Repeated a dozen times a day.
It might be funny if it weren't so infuriating.
At the house · Sun 29 Mar 2026. 10pm.
We arrived this morning to visit my inlaws for the next week. One thing we knew we'd confront right away is MIL's health situation. Though she's in her 80s and has contended with a variety of (non-terminal) health conditions for many years she's remained very sharp, maintaining the home and the household finances, and as mobile as pain from the not-willing-to-work-as-a-team parts of her body allow her to be. But that's different now.
She's still mentally sharp, but mobility, even around the house, has taken a nosedive. She sits in her armchair most of the day and all night. (She can't sleep lying down for reasons.) She's in pain, has low energy, has little appetite, and can't swallow and eat most foods. And because she's still mentally sharp everything is actually harder. She is aware every minute of the day how adult things she used to take for granted that she could still do even in her 80s, she now cannot. Every minute she's confronted by a fresh reminder of disability.
FIL is dutiful as her caretaker. He's in his 80s, too, and is in worse shape than she was, pre- this cancer, but is earnestly doing the best he can. The challenge is he's close to worthless at housework. He needs detailed instructions on where to find things, what to do with them, and how to pack them away when he's done. MIL is fine with giving instructions. She's a very exacting person, so she's accustomed to it. But unfortunately this creates a dynamic where every mundane household thing, dozens of times a day, devolves into a game of Twenty Questions. MILs is constantly having to answer questions, 'What do you want?", "Where is that?", "How to do it?", etc. And combine that with the fact that FIL is hard of hearing, with a hearing aid that only works about 50% at best, and MIL can't speak very loudly, and "Twenty Questions" turns into more of a Laurel & Hardy "Who's on First?" farce. Repeated a dozen times a day.
It might be funny if it weren't so infuriating.
