I love the brief moments of clarity…

Mom’s routine continues.  Her aide awakens her in the morning and gets her dressed and then she has breakfast in the dining room with all of the residents.  After that, the majority of the twelve residents gather in the living room for the morning news, exercise and one or more activities.  Mom sits in her rocking chair there with a view of the entire area.  Although she doesn’t participate in the activities any longer, she holds her baby and watches everything happening around her as the morning progresses, snoozing here and there.  Twice each week her morning routine is disrupted briefly for a shower which makes her tired and she snoozes more.

Snoozing after her morning shower.

Lunch time arrives and typically she is ready to go in the dining room and eat.  The times she refuses lunch are very few and far between.  She may be 98 but she still eats well, just small portions.

There are more activities in the afternoon either in the living room or the TV area.  Her preferred seating in either area allows her a view of the comings and goings of the staff and visitors.  It’s very different from when she lived with my brother and later, me.  At our homes she spent all of her time looking out the windows, watching everything happening in the neighborhood.  Now her neighborhood is indoors and has enough activity to keep her interested.

Five o’clock comes and it’s time for dinner.  Again, Mom eats well.  My sister reports that sometimes she has to remind her how to start eating but she seems to take off well once started.

Evening is more time for sitting and watching until it’s time to get ready for bed.  Days flow one into another with the routine. 

While her days may be consistent, we never know exactly what we’ll find day to day.  Mom, for the most part, is past her combative stage, although it will pop up here and there, mainly at shower time.  She is definitely past her anxious stage – at least what seemed anxious for my very laid back Mom.  She typically smiles at everyone and I hear that she is pleasant.  I know when I arrive she is always pleasant.  She just doesn’t always know who I am.

I always carry my tablet and I use it to show Mom pictures of family.  I start with her “momma” and “daddy” because she can always recognize at least one of them, usually both.  I move on to pictures of Daddy or her and Daddy and mention that he is her husband and my daddy with each picture.  I tell her that she is my mommy and I am her daughter.  Her response varies each time but if she didn’t recognize me as “hers” when I arrived, she usually knows by the time I leave.

If things are going well, I’ll move on to pictures of me and my siblings and I go through the names.  I was at that point the other day when, in a brief moment of clarity, Mom looked at me and said, “You were named after my mom.”  Indeed I was!  My middle name comes from my grandma’s middle name!

She is seldom “here” but when she is, it pulls at my heartstrings.

The saga of the wheelchair and hospice continues…

As you can imagine, Mom did not understand that she needed to stay in the wheelchair even after I told her it was hers and it would be better for her feet to be elevated.  A couple other things happened along the way too.

In my last update, I mentioned that my husband adjusted the leg supports of the wheelchair.  They went up and down and he had adjusted them for the length of her leg.  It was great!  That didn’t last long…

At my next visit, the chair was in Mom’s room and the legs supports had been removed.  Mom was sitting in the living room in her normal chair with her feet propped up on her stool.  Evidently communication was not what it should have been among the various shifts and the word had not been spread that Mom should be in her wheelchair as much as possible per the doctor’s orders.

In addition, when I went to get the chair and put the leg supports back on, someone had over extended them and they would no longer adjust up and down.  Back to the drawing board!

Tina, Mom’s former caregiver, happened to be there to visit and we spent a long time talking about the recent diagnosis and the issues with the wheelchair.  The director happened to stop back and Tina, the director and I spent some time talking about next steps.

So, I brought the issue to the attention of all the right people and they sent it up the flagpole to supposedly the right hospice people but two more visits and the leg supports were not fixed and Mom was not yet spending enough time in the wheelchair.  This time the director sent word up the flagpole herself and a new wheelchair arrived that day.

There was still the issue of communication among the shifts.  Mom was being handled differently by the various caregivers and I soon found that her normal caregiver, Melissa, was getting mixed messages.  On my next visit, Mom was not in the chair and could barely stand.  I got the wheelchair, installed the leg supports (that had again been removed) and with the help of the hospice aide, got Mom set up in it properly.  When I took Mom into lunch, I asked if she could stay in the chair to eat and Melissa was sooo happy!  She had really been concerned about Mom’s difficulty transferring from chair to chair and wanted to keep her in the wheelchair but wasn’t sure it was okay.

You may wonder why I would want to keep her in the wheelchair if she wants to walk.  My friend, an RN, explained that in Mom’s condition, the goal is to keep her in the wheelchair enough that she forgets walking.  I was already concerned that at Mom’s age, dealing with cancer and dementia, the last thing we need is to add the complication of a broken bone.  We’ve been lucky so far but we can’t guarantee that Mom will continue to bounce.

Have I solved the issues?  No.  Melissa told me that she puts the wheelchair in front of Mom and sometimes Mom accepts it because she knows she is in pain.  Other times, Melissa turns to find Mom walking down the hall.

The lesson in all of Mom’s time at the assisted living facility is that the caregivers there will follow the path of least resistance.  It’s important to be involved and keep a close eye on your loved one in any facility.

When she first arrived, it was bathing.  They would suggest but wouldn’t ensure that it happened.  I had to step in and do the bathing myself before they took it seriously and made it through Mom’s objections to her acceptance.  There were more bumps with a change of caregiver but again I stepped in and it smoothed out.  Mom has experienced another change with hospice.  A hospice aide now comes in to bathe her and although Mom has complained, Arlene has gently moved her through the process each time and eventually Mom will complain less.

There have been other things Mom has railed at but they were less important.  You have to pick your battles.  Who will win the wheelchair battle?  Only time will tell…

Mom holds the baby as Arlene dries her hair after her shower.

Nice and clean!  Mom felt the baby's toes and said she was nice and warm in her blanket.

 

Things are calming down again…

Several weeks ago, the unthinkable happened!  Tina left to take a job with the County Sheriff’s office.  I dreaded the adjustment period while they find a new team to work with the residents, especially since I’m working full time and can’t get up there more than once a week.  I figured Mom’s “I can do it myself” would come out to play again.

The first week I arrived and Mom had not been bathed.  I was concerned that she had caused a problem but after investigating, I learned that the days were mixed up and someone else was bathed rather than Mom.  I was promised that she would be bathed the next day.  I knew there would be hiccups with the change but I was hopeful.

I arrived for my visit on the second week and again, Mom had not been bathed.  A young man was cleaning her room – and doing an excellent job of it!  I asked if there had been a problem with her bath.  Yep, she refused!  I guess nobody thought through the impact of assigning a young man, however nice he might be, to take care of an ambulatory 97 year old woman…  Although I did tell them if my daddy had been there instead of Mom, I would have been happy to have that young man caring for him.

I quickly requested that Mom be cared for by females only and they promised she would be bathed that day or worst case, the next morning.  In the midst of a very busy weekend, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it up there again so I asked my sister and nieces if they could help check up on Mom to ensure she was bathed.  Love to them all for visiting and making sure it happened!

Third visit since the upheaval was this morning.  I’m very happy to say that Mom was bathed and eating a snack when Hurricane, my very soon to be five year old grandson, and I walked in.  Everyone was in the living room enjoying a game led by one of the aides.  It was so nice to see everyone calm and content – and all happy to see a little one in their midst.  He was shy but that didn’t seem to bother anyone and Mom was so happy to see him!

He did well and wasn’t too rambunctious but by the end of the visit, I could easily tell we had worn Mom out.

 

Will there be more hiccups?  I’m sure there will be but the good news is that they are trying.  The combination of Melissa and Stephanie today was wonderful and I immediately sent a message to let the powers that be know.  I can only hope that they stick with them or another combination of two people that works as well.

He really does watch over us…

Some might think I am crazy but my first memories involve Mom, Daddy and God.  Sometimes all together as in going to church or getting ready to go to the hospital when I busted my head open on an iron radiator when I was about three.  Sometimes it’s just Daddy as when he came into my preschool class at church to play piano or when he taught me to sing “Jesus Loves Me”.  Sometimes it’s just Mom as when she made me lunch in a lunchbox and we ate it outside on a quilt in the yard because I wanted to be like my big brothers and sister and have a lunchbox or when I played under the quilt frame while she worked on a quilt for one of our beds.

Sometimes it was just God.  Most vivid is the memory of our big old house, built in the 1880s, and how noisy it would get when there was a thunderstorm.  I was so scared of all that noise and the thunder and lightning!  I can remember being as young as three and hiding under the covers and saying a prayer to God, “Please God, I’m scared, could you please make the storm go away?”  I can’t say if the storm went away or if I became peaceful enough to sleep but the next thing I would know, it was morning.  As far as I was concerned, God was there watching over me.  I have carried that feeling throughout my life.

I would not claim to always have listened to Him – sometimes I have made huge mistakes that obviously were not in His plan.  I eventually realize my mistake and, not without trial and tribulation of my own making, I am led back to the path I should take.  I also never ask Him, “Why?”  I figure that’s not for me to know but there’s a purpose to all.

So why is this all on my mind?  Well, many changes have been occurring with the residents at the home.  Over the last year I have watched the steady progression of the disease and eventual death in some, others are following that path quickly.  For the most part, it’s really been a calm ride but every once in awhile there is a resident that acts out and can be a danger to the aides or the other residents.  There have been a few times recently when I have helped the aides as they tried to deal with these situations without anyone being hurt.  I truly appreciate what they deal with on a daily basis!

Still, you probably wonder what God has to do with it.  When Daddy was 69 and far into his journey with Alzheimer’s, he suddenly didn’t know my brother and ran across two fields and jumped three fences to get to our neighbor’s farm and get away from my brother.  He was VERY healthy!  Shortly after that, he checked himself into a local hospital that is known for geriatrics to get some testing done.  A half hour after he arrived he forgot why he was there, wanted to go home and became violent.  They immediately gave him a sedative.

No big deal, right?  Unfortunately, Daddy had never taken any medication so the proper dosage for his height and weight hit him like a ton of bricks.  He was out for the better part of three days and when he woke up, had to be reminded how to chew and swallow again.  Although a week or so before he had run across those fields and jumped those fences, he never walked again.

I don’t think any of us ever felt there was a reason to be upset with the hospital because they had no way of knowing what would happen, nor did we.  I believe that God was watching out for Mom, knowing that Daddy had progressed far enough that she needed more help.  Daddy went directly into the nursing home and Mom spent every day, all day, with him but never had to deal with violence – because he was no longer mobile – and was able to get her rest every night at home.

Do I believe it was supposed to happen that way?  Definitely!