August 2, 2012 · 9:02 pm

Time warp at the hospital

Hospitals are pretty much the same all over. I spent a week hovering over Dad at a big hospital in Albuquerque, and I’ve spent much more time hovering over Mom in a small town hospital in Roswell. To sum it up: understaffed, long waits, crappy food, the constant beeping of machines and tense people in waiting rooms awaiting word if their loved one made it or not.

Today was no different. The doctor that did my mom’s blood clot removal procedure yesterday came in at 8:40 a.m., said she looked great and that she was ready for discharge … once the hospitalist came in and gave the discharge order.

The hospitalist did not arrive until 4 p.m.

Grrrr. Make that double grrrr.

Once the hospitalist finally arrived, she stayed less than a minute, and then Mom’s discharge process began in earnest. But what a waste of a day, and Mom was eager to start back up rehab. The doctor that did her vein procedure said she was to get up and walk multiple times today, but that didn’t happen, and now she’s behind a day. I understand that the sickest patients have to be tended to first, but Mom occupied a bed for several hours that could have been used by someone that was really sick. (She was in ICU under observation for the night.)

Mom and I had plenty of time to talk and Mom wanted to discuss memories of Dad which was nice, but still, it’s so frustrating sitting around waiting for a doctor to pop in and give the thumbs up so that the patient can be discharged.

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August 1, 2012 · 10:50 pm

What makes one give up?

With my dad, Alzheimer’s robbed him of the will to fight back. I watched my dad pitifully try to hang on to his personality, only to return a few months later and see a drugged-up zombie in his place. It was heartbreaking, but I’m not sure if those with dementia realize when they are crossing over to the dark side, so to speak.

With my mom, her personality has survived the major surgery, the setbacks and the recovery, and even the nursing home stay. But I know that Mom often puts on a cheery front for the medical staff. They all compliment her on what a great patient she is. And that is true, she’s very good about following orders and not complaining.

But with me, the tears come readily.

I went to visit her local bank the other day to let the manager know about Mom. The manager had helped my mom with a lot of financial issues, and she was sad to hear about Mom. She said that she wondered if at some point, my mom would just give up. “She misses your dad so much, and she’s so lonely.”

Mom already tells me just about every day about how sorry she is for being such a burden and that it would be better if she just let go.

And the honest truth is, it might be.

But then again, the nurse that tended to my mom through a special procedure today said she can tell what kind of spirits patients have just by working with them for a few minutes. She said, “I can tell your mom is a great person.”

And that’s the honest truth as well.

So that makes things really tricky. I don’t want my good-hearted mom to suffer needlessly, but the world could use a bit of her sweet spirit for as long as possible.

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July 31, 2012 · 11:08 pm

Dad at Disneyland … without us

I found this photo recently of Dad with his sister Peggy at Disneyland, and it made me think about all the family drama surrounding her visit.

I was about 10 or so when my aunt Peggy and her family came from Australia to visit America. They made a stop in L.A. to see Dad.

You would think Mom and I would have joined Dad and had a good old family gathering. But that was not meant to be.

Mom was still very bitter over how two of Dad’s other sisters had treated her when they came to visit Dad from Ireland. If her version of events is correct, I don’t blame her, though Peggy had not been part of that earlier visit. Still, as a kid, I was prone to take Mom’s side so I said I would stay with Mom instead of going to meet my aunt Peggy.

I guess I have some regrets about that now, as I have never met her personally and one of us will probably die before that happens. I’ve been communicating with her (and Dad’s other sisters) via letters and they all seem very kind. Whatever bad blood there was before (if there was any to begin with) no longer exists.

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July 30, 2012 · 8:28 pm

Taking charge of a parent’s life

Today, Mom filled out the power of attorney forms. I’m now in charge of the important decisions concerning her life. If there is a bright side, it’s that Mom knows it’s necessary and trusts me completely. I know for many families, it can be a real struggle. Who wants to admit that they can’t manage their own lives anymore?

Mom did ask if the power of attorney could be reversed if a miracle happened and she becomes like she was before. She was assured that she could revoke it at any time. I joked with her, “Sure, if you really want to start dealing with all of those bills again.”

I’m sure Mom would like nothing more than to return to her own boring, routine life. (I know I would love to return to mine.)

Still, at least we are taking the proper steps now, unlike we did with Dad. No will, no power of attorney with Dad. There’s so much red tape, and so many hoops that you have to jump through when you don’t fill out simple paperwork before you get sick. His bank accounts are still sitting there in limbo, and we certainly could use those funds now, as Mom is entering her last week of rehab that’s covered by Medicare.

The future … that remains a question mark.

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July 29, 2012 · 8:14 pm

Reminder of Dad

I visited Mom at the nursing home during lunch today. The spacious dining room is bright and airy, and looks out on the bird-filled courtyard. Still, there is much sadness in the air. The residents vary in degrees of sickness, and the ones with mental issues are mixed in with the ones with physical issues. Today at Mom’s table, there was a man that appeared to be in his 60’s. He had white hair, and appeared to be quite tall, though he was hunched over in his wheelchair. He had on a t-shirt that said something about grandpas.

He had pushed himself a few feet away from the table, and was gnawing with great intensity on the piece of fried chicken served with lunch. The entire time we were at the table, he continued to eat that way, as if he were obsessed with it.

When Mom and I ventured out into the courtyard after lunch for some fresh air, Mom said the man reminded her of Dad. She ate with Dad a few times while he was in the nursing home. He had a great appetite, but would eat in a rushed manner, like the man my mom now dines with.

There’s a woman with dementia in Mom’s wing. She rolls herself up and down the hallways in a special walker that is connected on all sides, I guess to prevent falls. The confusion in her eyes is the same look I saw so many times in Dad’s eyes. Today she was looking for the bathroom. The nurse was a bit short with her (I’m sure it was probably the 50th time she had told the resident where the bathroom was that day). “Your bathroom is in your room. 107!”

The woman mumbled 107 as she took off down the hallway again. Mom was slowly rolling herself in the wheelchair back to her room. We encountered the wide-eyed woman again.

She looked at me, pleading. “Where is the bathroom?”

I repeated what the nurse had said just a minute before. She looked relieved and made it into the bathroom in her room. Later, as I was leaving, she was trying desperately to get into a locked room.

I hope Mom doesn’t have to live here permanently, but I know that it may be a valid option.

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July 28, 2012 · 8:09 pm

Handling the curveballs of life

After a three-day respite back home in Atlanta, I’ve returned to Roswell to be with my mom, who is still in rehab at the nursing home. I had a “small world” moment while talking to the cab driver that picked me up from the hotel. It turns out that his wife’s father had dementia and her mom had colon cancer, just like my parents.

I figured it was a good moment to get some feedback on the cancer treatment options in the area from a local. His mother-in-law was diagnosed in the latter stages, but survived two years. She did the chemo treatment, and had good days and bad days. All pretty typical.

What wasn’t so typical is how the wife’s life changed when she moved from the family home in Texas to be with her mom in New Mexico. No doubt it was a hardship and a struggle for the family, but when her mom eventually went into hospice care, the hospice staff were so impressed with the wife’s abilities that they offered her a job! She now runs her own private caregiving agency.

Now, I don’t expect that kind of ending for myself. As I’ve said before, I’m not comfortable in that kind of role. However, could my dad’s dementia and death and now my mom’s illness be creating a new path in life for me? Perhaps. It’s at least worth an exploration. I may end up with no choice but to be a caregiver for my mom. But the attitude and perspective I have in that new role? That is all up to me.

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July 27, 2012 · 6:52 pm

Dad a member of the “Irish Mafia”

Dad often boasted, in hushed tones, that he was a member of the Irish Republican Army. While I’ll probably never be able to determine the truth of that statement, I did find proof that he was a member of the “Irish Mafia.”

Obviously, this is a tongue-in-cheek membership card attained at a good old Irish pub. Still, it was funny to find this old and tattered card that Dad had held onto all of these years.

And thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I was able to discover that Molly Malone’s is still in business! It’s fun to think that one of Dad’s old Los Angeles haunts is still alive and kicking. I think Dad would be happy to know that the Guinness is still pouring freely.

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July 26, 2012 · 6:42 pm

Custodian for the dead

Today, I went over Dad’s savings and IRA accounts that are still tied up in the afterlife limbo. We could definitely use that money right now, considering mom’s precarious health at the moment. Unfortunately, most of these accounts did not have beneficiary information filled out, and Dad never got around to doing a will before his dementia set in.

All of that creates a world of trouble for those that have to come in and clean up the loose ends.

Mountains of paperwork. Legal hoops to jump through, and paying big bucks for the lawyer to set up those hoops for you. And then if you are lucky enough to obtain the funds rightfully due to you, then you must consider the tax consequences of your financial decisions.

I just received an email reminder, an annual note to update my beneficiaries of my 401(k) if necessary. Hopefully, future generations will take these electronic reminders seriously. Not having to deal with bureaucratic red tape is almost as valuable as the money itself.

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July 25, 2012 · 8:09 pm

Relearning your life

It’s interesting the simple things we take for granted, until sickness or old age strikes. I was talking to Mom today and she said in rehab tomorrow she’s going to learn how to get dressed on her own again. “Really exciting, I know,” Mom joked. (She hasn’t lost her sense of humor yet.) It made me think about how most of us go through our daily routines without even stopping to think about the steps involved. Getting dressed? Most of us master that as small children. Now Mom is learning how to do it all over again. It must be so frustrating on a certain level.

Of course, dementia didn’t give Dad a chance to learn new or old things. The disease robbed him of his mind, bit by bit.

And I’m having to adapt to a new way of living too. I’m not a fan of change, but this isn’t about me. Still, it’s amazing how one illness can change the life of a family forever.

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July 24, 2012 · 10:39 pm

A town missing my parents

Today, I went back to Ruidoso, NM, the town my parents retired to, so I could take care of some business matters. Dad was last alive (barely) in Ruidoso in November 2011. He was very sick by then and unaware of his surroundings.

Mom has not been in Ruidoso since her birthday, July 6th. We do not know yet when (or if) she will be able to come home. It was so odd going through the town without one of my parents being there. I walked the same paths they walked hundreds of times, and talked to people who remembered them well and were eager to send best wishes and prayers my mother’s way.

Ruidoso is a small, friendly community and my parents were well-liked though they kept to themselves mostly. I didn’t like being the bearer of bad news today, but the genuine concern was rewarding, and I was able to pass along that love to my mom tonight when I visited her at the nursing home.

Positive thoughts may not be the ultimate cure, but they can’t hurt.

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