Caregiving: Cigarettes will be the death of me - part 1

If you smoke, I'll warn you right now that this note will likely offend you.

And I ain't gonna apologize.

I can't stand smoking. Cigarette smoke gives me headaches, often migraines. I cheered when Illinois basically went smokeless two years ago. There were places my husband and I never went because of smoke, and now we could go in breathing peace.

Ah, the good life, finally.

Then the universe decided to have the last laugh by giving me the challenge of caregiving for my dad-in-law who smokes.

I lived on migraine pills the April day we packed up Pepaw's belongings in Florida to bring him up here. Every time we stopped for gas, he had to take a smoke break. Everything was unloaded in our garage because I refused to allow that stinky stuff into my house. That was one reason why I bought him all new clothes, which was simply a half dozen t-shirts and a couple pairs of jeans, because that's just who Pepaw is, a very casual man.

He lived with us for 10 days, and we trained him to smoke outside on our porch and drop his butts into a pot of dirt. When we moved him to a retirement center, we showed him where to go outside to smoke. That wasn't always successful because sometimes he'd go elsewhere on the property and deposit his butts among the foliage. I stood right there one day and said, "Give it to me," but he flipped it inside the shrubs anyway. I wanted to scream!

I hate dementia as much as smoking, and when the two intertwine, it ignites a whole new rage inside me … and I just come home and beat my head against a pillow.

Pepaw's dementia also bursts into full bloom when we take him into a store, and he can't understand why cigarettes are so expensive … at least compared to what he remembers, and Lord only knows what year that is. I flat out told him one day that the taxes are so high to encourage people to stop smoking and we'll have a healthier world. That explanation went right over his head and reminded me that logic is simply a waste of time and energy.

Hey, I'm human, and sometimes I forget that reality of dementia.

Last week …

To be continued tomorrow.