Category Archives: Memories

September 7, 2012 · 8:48 pm

Weekend of the unknown

It’s my first weekend as a full-time caregiver. Yikes!

To be fair, Mom is doing pretty darn well on her first full day back at home. She mostly made her meals for herself today, and is getting around the condo just fine.

On the other hand, her INR levels spiked to a somewhat disturbing level today (fun with Coumadin & blood clots) and we had another colostomy bag leakage. So yes, ups and downs, but I’m used to that by now.

But now, I get a taste of what Mom went through as caregiver to Dad for those last few years of his life. Even though my mom has lost a bit of her mental sharpness, it is so much easier to be a caregiver for someone who can and wants to follow instructions. I can only begin to imagine what Mom had to endure with Dad, who was non-compliant due to his dementia.

That’s not to say that Mom’s motor-mouth and other quirks don’t drive me a little crazy. They do. But then they always have. And that’s the key. Mom’s been through a lot physically, but she’s still Mom emotionally and mentally. With Dad, we lost him mentally more than physically at first. I think as a society we are more equipped to deal with the crumbling of the physical body versus the disintegration of the mind as we grow older.

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September 6, 2012 · 8:01 pm

A parent comes home

Well, Mom is home. There were times when I thought I would never write those words. We have been through so much in these past two months.

Dad was never able to come home, but then, with his dementia, home was lost to him. It was lost to Mom as well for awhile, but happily she seems comfortable being back at home.

Of course, I know more dark clouds probably lurk on the horizon. Is there still cancer in my Mom’s body? That’s the next bridge we have to cross.

But today was a good day. And that’s what matters the most.

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September 5, 2012 · 7:02 pm

Giving up the little things at the nursing home

Today, my mom and her roommate were complaining about some of the things that were not being done around the nursing home. The complaints didn’t involve serious infractions, but it did make me think about how little control you have once you have to check into a nursing home.

Both Mom and the roommate said their bedsheets hadn’t been changed in two weeks. With my mom’s colostomy accidents, I would think you would need to be changing the sheets much more frequently. They also did not receive a fresh set of towels for the past two days. Again, little things, but both of these women are with it enough to want to maintain good hygiene, so it’s a shame to see their efforts thwarted by a shortage of clean supplies.

In the dining hall, I saw a woman in a wheelchair struggle to pick up her napkin, which had fallen on the floor. She almost fell out of her wheelchair trying to get it! I was about to get up to help her but then I saw an aide come to her table. But she ignored the poor old woman, assisted someone else, and left. Her tablemate noticed her struggling and helped her get her napkin.

I don’t blame the staff members, they are so busy trying to hand out the correct meals, then feed the many who can’t feed themselves. A dropped napkin is obviously not a priority.

But it goes back to dignity. And though ideally the nursing home is about restoring your health, which can boost your self-esteem, it also can be a place that kills your spirit.

Luckily, I’ve been able to help Mom out with some of the stuff she has needed. But I think about my father at the nursing home, and those long hours and days alone, when his needs may have been ignored as well. Not intentionally, but just as a side effect of being short staffed and my dad being a very quiet guy with dementia.

So many of the elderly’s struggles go unseen and unheard within the walls of the nursing home. While of course it’s depressing, I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to witness the good and the bad of elder care firsthand.

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September 4, 2012 · 8:44 pm

Things to think about when you get older

After seeing Mom today at the nursing home here in Roswell, I was waiting for the bus which was running late as usual. An elderly lady came up and set down with me. She would peer over her book periodically to see if the bus was coming. Finally, she sighed and said, “Well I was going to catch a movie today but now I’m not going to make it.” She wished me a nice day and shuffled back down the sidewalk. It was 100 degrees outside.

Sure, she could have called for a cab but they are really pricey in this town.

It’s too bad that a town with such a large elderly population doesn’t have a better transit system. Even the small town my parents retired to has a more reliable, door-to-door shuttle that only costs $1 each way. Each year, the transit system there has to fight to keep their government funding, because local politicians don’t want to throw a few dollars their way. It’s a clean, reliable service and is a lot cheaper than the town’s cab service. There’s also a sizeable elderly population and a lot of tourists.

Anyways, the poor old lady who just wanted to see a movie made me think about how important it is to think about things like transit options as you grow older. Luckily, my parents had options when Dad had to give up driving due to his dementia. It’s important to have these resources so that you can still get out and enjoy yourself, even if it’s just a trip to a movie theatre or local restaurant.

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September 3, 2012 · 7:59 pm

Dad sweetens up my morning

Of course, I’m way too young to remember this memory, but one of Mom’s more fond memories of Dad and I was when he would come in to my room in the morning and put honey on my pacifier. He would keep me entertained while Mom tried to get a few more minutes of sleep. (Or maybe just some much needed alone time.)

Now honey is not recommended for babies under age 1, due to botulism concerns. In the 1970’s, parents had to wing it more, having less access to information. Fortunately, I survived. 🙂

Dad would also sing to me. I think his baby duties centered more on keeping the baby happy than doing the dirty work, but Mom seemed okay with that.

And even though it is not a memory that I can remember, all of those special moments help shape us, and make us who we are when we grow up.

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September 2, 2012 · 8:49 pm

Another ER visit

I never was with Dad on any of his emergency room visits. By the time I flew in from Atlanta (if my presence was recommended), he was already in ICU. Dad had several ER visits in the last year of his life, while he lived in the care center. None of these trips involved Mom or I being by his side. He would fall or have some other minor issue, and the nursing home would send him to the ER, then pick him up when he was discharged.

Today, Mom was sent to the ER for what turned out to be yet another blood clot. (That would be #3 if you are keeping track. I know I am.) Luckily, Mom still has most of her mental capabilities and knows why she was brought to the hospital. She can interact and joke with the staff. No one enjoys visits to the ER, but Mom can maintain her good spirits throughout the ordeal.

But I thought about Dad today, and all of those ER visits when he was in the latter stages of Alzheimer’s. Was he frightened? He was no doubt disoriented. He could name some of the staff members at the care center, the ones he liked the most. (Well, he would get close enough to their names, say Ronnie for Ricky.) All of a sudden, he was whisked away to a new place with new people. Perhaps it didn’t faze him that much at all. It’s just one of those things I’ll never know.

I’ll also never know the degree of loneliness that Dad felt, if he felt any at all. The emergency room is a lonely place to be, and you usually have plenty of time to sit around and think about it, as long waits are legendary. Did Dad yearn for human companionship of some sort, even if he couldn’t remember his family any more? I don’t know.

But I am glad I made the decision to be with my mom now.

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September 1, 2012 · 7:12 pm

Dad a proud Teamster

Since it’s Labor Day weekend, I thought it would be appropriate to post something related to Dad’s long relationship with the Teamsters. Dad was a proud union member for most of his adult life. And Dad certainly served the Teamsters well, by being so loyal, dependable and hard-working.

So it was not much of a surprise that he had kept every one of his union due receipts from over the years. In the middle of all of those yellowed receipts, I came across his Teamsters identification card.

When I think about Dad and the things he most closely identified with, being Irish and being a Teamster certainly rise to the top.

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August 31, 2012 · 8:26 pm

Dad’s disputed birth year solved

As I’ve mentioned before, Dad always wanted to fudge the year of his birth. But instead of going whole-hog, and making himself a decade younger, or even five years younger, he chose three years. So he would say he was born in 1935 instead of 1932. It seemed so silly to me as a kid. Apparently, he continued this charade for his entire life, as his voter registration card in New Mexico has his birthdate listed as 4.10.1935. Those three years meant a lot to Dad!

But going through his belongings, I found the proof. His birth certificate. I doubt these things matter beyond this lifetime, but I’m sure if I could communicate with Dad now, he would still dispute my findings!

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August 30, 2012 · 9:57 pm

The kindness of virtual strangers

Today, one of the drivers of the local transit system went to visit my mom in the nursing home. It was a very kind gesture (he even brought flowers!)

Jorge is one of my mom’s favorite drivers and he also helped her out when her power was turned off. The kindness of (virtual) strangers is so refreshing in this day and age. Jorge and my mom are culturally worlds apart. (Though in an interesting twist, since she’s become ill, she can actually pronounce his name correctly. Before that, she butchered it, including “Hay-Ho.”)

Yet when he found he had business to do in Roswell, he went out of his way to see my mom in the nursing home. He set with her at lunch and kept her company. The visit made her day.

I think back to Dad, and the librarians, and other locals who kept track of him and helped him as he descended into dementia.

With so much evil and despair reported in the news, sometimes it is easy to forget that simple acts of kindness do continue to exist in this world.

Thank you Jorge. Your kindness is greatly appreciated.

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August 29, 2012 · 8:46 pm

Dad and the babies

As I’ve written about before, Dad had high hopes of becoming a Hollywood movie star. I recently came across this wannabe actor/actress directory, full of head shots of mainly babies, with a few adults thrown in for good measure. I’m not sure why Dad ended up in the baby directory, it seems like there would be stiff competition with all of those adorable infants and toddlers!

Anyways, I wonder what happened to those other people who were part of this directory. Obviously, the babies were placed in the directory by proud parents (and maybe a few stage mothers.) Did any of the children grow up to become actors or models? And for the adults, did they continue seeking fame or did they give up the dream? I’m not sure exactly when Dad gave up his dream of acting. It was probably years before I was born, because he was already a bit older (age 42) by the time I came along.

And like many of our dreams, there may not have been a defining moment for Dad, where he decided to give up his dream of becoming an actor. For many of us, our dreams simply get shoved aside, as life’s responsibilities, jobs and families take up our time and energy. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, as the chances of becoming a Hollywood movie star are pretty darn slim.

But even if those dreams remain unfulfilled, our yearnings are part of who we are. Now I understand Dad a little better.

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