Ever have one of those days when you want to scream at an inanimate object?

Like, for instance, a bed?

That was me, standing in my father-in-law’s guest bedroom.

His house was under contract. He’d put it on the market with hopes of moving to a nice condo in Florida.

But when a heart problem landed him suddenly in the hospital, he received a second, life-altering diagnosis: “mild cognitive impairment.”

His doctor’s euphemism for “unable to live alone, effective immediately.’

He was headed to an assisted living community near us. We had to clear out his house in 10 days. Which meant two weekends, since the house was 50 miles from ours and we worked full time.

So, we rolled up our sleeves.

We sorted. We packed.

We hauled belongings to Good Will and ReStore.

We disposed of hazardous household products.

We removed everything down to the last loose Q-tip and stray Kroger receipt.

We swept and wiped and scrubbed.

And then, at 3 pm on the last Sunday, I realized: we still hadn’t dealt with the bed!

Dear Life. When I said, “can my day get any worse,” it was a rhetorical question and not a challenge                                                                             – Unknown, Pinterest.

There’s a myth that local garbage collectors will pick up mattresses during regular curbside service. That’s seldom true.

If you’re lucky, you can arrange a costly special pick-up, but only with advance notice and proof of residency.

I felt panic rise in my throat. My mind raced through possible solutions, rejecting each one out of hand.

“A few days is not enough “advanced” notice for special bulk pick-up. And I can’t reach the sanitation department today.”

“We don’t know any local junk haulers.”

“Charities won’t accept used mattresses. I think it’s a state law.”

“We aren’t residents, so we can’t dispose of it in the landfill.”

“We can’t even haul this thing home. It won’t fit on top of our car.”

When my mind ran out of solutions, it turned on itself:

“You know how hard it is to get rid of a mattress! Why didn’t you plan for this?”

And then, it surrendered:

“That’s it. This problem is going to end me.”

If you’ve been a family caregiver for some time, I know you’ve been there. That moment you’re sure life finally handed you a problem with no solution.

At this point in my caregiver journey, I had these moments at least once a day. So frequently, in fact, I noticed a few mental tendencies that made problems seem insurmountable.

#1: My exhausted mind is a drama queen.

My thought “This problem is going to end me” is a tiny bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? Truly, thousands of beds are successfully discarded daily.

But that thought wasn’t an objective one. It was a cry for help.

Give me a rest. NOW!

Our minds are brilliantly creative problem-solvers, but they can’t rise to the occasion if they’re worn out. They need the three Rs: Retreat (from the problem); Relax, Reconnect when ready.

#2: My mind wants to solve problems immediately. 

When I can’t find an immediate solution, I panic because I can’t tolerate the sense of uncertainty. I want to make the feeling go away immediately with a perfect, beginning-to-end plan.

Yet, few problems require immediate solutions. In fact, it’s sometimes smarter to wait.

My problem isn’t the problem. It’s my discomfort with not knowing what to do.

#3: My mind is terrified I’ll make a mistake. 

I like to get my ducks in a row before I move forward. I hate inefficiency and do-overs and needless cost. And, most of all, I hate being told I did something wrong.

But let’s face it. The world of eldercare is rife with hard-to-navigate agency websites and cryptic forms to fill out. Rules and policies even the people hired to enforce them don’t understand. (Which may explain why they never answer the phone.)

Sometimes, your best way forward is a step that feels like it’s in the wrong direction.

 Because, if it is wrong, someone “in charge” will get in touch with you and tell you, finally, what they really want. They may even give you helpful advice.

Sometimes starting out on the wrong foot isn’t a mistake or a fail. It’s a strategy.

#4: My mind believes I alone have to think of the solution. 

Yet, sometimes, the best solution comes out of the blue. It’s nothing you ever imagined. In the best of all possible worlds, your problem may even be someone else’s solution.

And, in the end, that’s what happened for us.

Everything is figureoutable
                          – Marie Forleo, entrepreneur and author

We remedied my meltdown with a late lunch. There’s nothing like a great barbeque sandwich to relieve a frazzled mind.

Over iced tea refills, we made a calm, rational decision.

We would haul the mattress to the driveway. The real estate agent told us, in no uncertain terms, the city would pick it up on garbage day.

 (For the record, she was wrong.)

(I checked.)

Her assurance would give us cover with the new owner, who would be irate to find our bulk trash in her new driveway. It would buy me time to work on a disposal plan.

Meanwhile, I suspected the neighbors would burn up the phone lines to the Homeowners Association and my husband would soon get a call. But I also betted the HOA could direct us to a reputable junk hauler.

But in the end, a completely unexpected solution materialized before any drama played out.

According to my father-in-law’s friend across the street, the development’s landscaping crew spotted the nearly new mattress and loaded it on their trailer, presumably for their own personal use.

Problem solved!

The mattress disappeared, free of charge.

A local family got a gently used mattress at no cost.

And, BONUS! Per the friend, the neighbors had something to complain about at the cul-de-sac’s weekly cocktail hour.

I call it a win-win-win.

*Photo by conderdesign at Pixabay.


Would you like to know more about eldercare or grief coaching? I offer complimentary 45-minute discovery calls to see how my eldercare or grief coaching might help.

I promise, there’s no hard sell. Even if you decide eldercare coaching isn’t for you, I’ll give you some DIY suggestions and resources that might help you.

Not up for a call yet? Email your questions to me at cindy@shadowlandscoaching.com

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