July 23, 2012 · 10:58 pm

Home fades away

I’ve written before about how Mom was always so heartbroken when Dad never asked to go home with her when she said goodbye to him at the nursing home.

Now she’s lost the meaning of home as well.

I was visiting her today at the nursing home and gently brought up possible plans once she’s discharged from the skilled nursing facility. She stressed how she would be afraid to live alone. I asked her if she wanted to go home and she surprised me by saying home didn’t really have much meaning to her anymore. She said she didn’t have much memory of the town she’s lived in for the past 10 years, or the condo that she kept so neat.

“It’s all different now,” Mom said as she waved her hands weakly in the air.

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July 22, 2012 · 7:20 pm

Wearing other’s clothes

Today there was some drama with my mom not having clean clothes to wear. I brought her five changes of clothing which was what I was told to supply. Somehow, Mom ended up not having any pants to wear and had to go to the dining room with a bedsheet wrapped around her waist.

Of course, Mom could have had breakfast in her room but I’m glad she wants to be social. I guess it isn’t quite like high school because she would have definitely been defying the dress code!

With Dad, we supplied a few outfits, but we never saw him wearing his own clothes. I’ve written before about my first visit to the nursing home where Dad lived, and seeing him in Scooby Doo pajama bottoms. When they sent “his” belongings after he died almost all of the clothes belonged to someone else.

So far, no cartoon character prints for Mom, but she was so grateful when I visited her at lunch and they found her a pair of sweatpants to wear. I was grateful too, and I brought in several more outfits for her to wear.

When you become old and sick, you give thanks wherever you can find it.

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July 21, 2012 · 8:21 pm

The need for companionship

First of all, it’s my 200th post! Thanks to everyone who has followed the ups and downs of my strange journey this year, as I explore my father’s death and legacy and now my mom’s serious illness and brush with death.

Mom was finishing up lunch today when I came to visit her at the nursing home. She ate everything but the main dish, which was veal. That’s not something she ever ate at home, so I can’t blame her for skipping it. It seems that in the hospital and now in the nursing home, the menus are very meat-centric. I wonder when my generation (and the future generations) get old if the nursing homes and hospitals will be forced to serve up healthier food, vegetarian options, etc. I guess they are going for comfort food that will be appealing to the masses but all of it ends up looking like mystery meat to me.

It’s also sad to see so much food wasted at these places, when there’s obviously people starving all over the world.

Now Dad was quite different when he lived at the nursing home. Up until the last few months of his life, when he lost the ability to swallow, he would clear his plate every time. The nurses would joke about not being able to keep him filled up. I’m sure he would have wolfed down Mom’s veal cutlet!

There’s also another major difference between Mom and Dad. With Dad’s dementia, he withdrew more and more. He would be brought into the dining room to eat, but would do so alone at a table, not talking to anyone. Dad was a bit of a loner before the dementia but he had that Irish charm and could strike up a conversation with a stranger quite easily. I’ll never know if he suffered at mealtime, or if he was content in his own little world.

Mom, on the other hand, is a social butterfly. She’s already been adopted by the others into the “dining room family,” as Peggy, another resident explained. This nursing home “mafia” collects any salt and pepper packets not used and puts them in a community tin. So I guess I know where to go if I run out of salt and pepper!

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July 20, 2012 · 9:33 pm

The diaper follies

You have to find humor where you can in the nursing home. Mom used to haul adult diapers on the Greyhound bus as she went to visit Dad at the nursing home. Finally, she allowed me to just order them online. It was not as easy as one might think. Certain styles worked better for Dad, and of course, finding his size was difficult because he kept losing weight. Also, Dad started going through more and more diapers each day. With his dementia, he would sometimes try to rip them off.

Mom now finds herself wearing diapers. Hopefully, it’s temporary. Today, she was wearing a dress and the staff changed her diaper before her physical therapy session. She said it felt a little loose. While she was trying to master the walker during her therapy session, the diaper slipped off and fell right on the floor.

Mom had a better attitude about it than I probably would have had. She said they all had a good laugh about it.

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July 19, 2012 · 10:09 pm

What matters most on birthdays

Today is my 38th birthday. Obviously, this has not been the best of months for me. In fact, it ranks right up there with December 2011 (my dad’s death) as the worst month of my life.

I went to visit my mom today in the nursing home. I had the chance to overhear her tell a nurse, “It’s my daughter’s birthday today,” even before she saw me. I had to walk her through the significance of July 19th yesterday. Mom was never the type to forget birthdays. Considering everything she’s been through lately, I would have totally understood if she forgot, but it was sweet that she remembered.

Mom and I at the nursing home on my birthday.

Last year, Mom and I visited Dad at the nursing home he was at shortly before my birthday. They sang “Happy Birthday” to me together for the last time. Dad was barely awake but he mumbled through it as best he could. In years past, he would croon like Bing Crosby or Frank Sinatra.

“To Joy on her 38th birthday with more love than I could ever express. You are so loved and special. Love much from Mom.”

Mom was adamant about me getting her purse from her room while we set outside. She said she had “something for my birthday” in there. She wanted something to wrap it in so I gave her my camera case and then she said she wanted to write me a note. I gave her pen and paper and she labored over the brief note.

Mom put a crumpled $20 in the camera case, but it is the note and the photo I took of us that are the gifts that matter the most. Sure, no one wants to spend their birthday visiting their mom in a nursing home. But at least I still have my mom to give me a birthday hug. That’s truly the best gift of all.

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July 18, 2012 · 10:58 pm

There’s always a sadder story

My mom got a roommate today. She was quiet as they wheeled her into the room in a wheelchair. The head nurse came back to do the admission interview. That’s when the poor old woman broke down.

“My husband died here!” The woman started to wail uncontrollably. There are only three nursing homes in the town my mom is in right now, but geez, you think they could have sent this woman to one of the other facilities. Maybe some people would be comforted by the familiar surroundings, but I think for most people, it would be a depressing reminder of their spouse’s death. Just seeing the vans rolling around town for the place my dad was at the last year of his life give me the creeps and make me sad. I can’t imagine finding myself sick and ending up in the same facility where my loved one passed away.

The next thing she said was just as moving to me: “I miss my cats!” I can see myself as this woman 30 years from now. First to lose your spouse, then to have to give up your pets, it

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July 17, 2012 · 9:45 pm

Back to the nursing home

So I just got Mom settled into the skilled nursing facility. The sights and sounds bring back so many memories of my dad, and his final year that was mostly spent in a nursing home. Of course, the circumstances were different. Dad had dementia and was placed in a memory care unit because he was no longer manageable at home. Mom is recovering from major surgery and trying to regain her independence.

Dad’s case was pretty much hopeless. I have a bit more hope for my mom, but let’s face it, no one wants to be in one of these facilities. Who would want to rely on strangers to do the simplest of tasks for them?

There was a patient wandering the hall saying she was bleeding. A couple of others were mumbling to themselves around the nurse’s station, which was unmanned. I felt so sad as I left Mom there, after sitting with her for dinner. I’m not sure why the nursing home bothers me more than the hospital. There are so many similarities.

I know a part of me wonders if Mom will ever check out of the facility I have placed her in and return home. Mom was the one adamant about not returning home yet; she’s not even able to walk around on her own with a walker yet. So I don’t have guilt about that, it’s just that all of these facilities are so woefully understaffed. I know my mom will be waiting for help and it will take forever for someone to respond.

Perhaps my dad was the lucky one. He was less aware of being neglected.

At least I hope he was.

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July 16, 2012 · 10:21 pm

Dad’s trucking buddies

As I’ve mentioned before, Dad was always a blue-collar worker, and proud Teamsters member. I stumbled upon this photo of dad posing with a group of his co-workers. (Dad is second from the right.)

Dad looks pretty handsome as he was probably in his late 40’s or early 50’s when this photo was taken. He kept his dark shock of hair for quite a long time, only allowing Mom to “touch it up” when he retired a decade or so later.

Dad posing with his trucking buddies. (He’s second from the right.)

At one time, Dad could have named every buddy in this photo. Now they are just faces in a photograph, many probably deceased like my father. Often we bond so closely with co-workers, only to drift apart as we move along in life. It’s all part of the process, but I see my dad as a strong, vital man in this photo and wish it could all be real once again.

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July 15, 2012 · 9:19 pm

Dad in tights

Well, I never thought I’d see my dad wearing tights, but I unearthed this treasure of a photo recently. Mom had mentioned that Dad had done some “Shakespeare in the park” or other community theatre when he first came to Los Angeles. I guess she was right, because now I have photographic evidence!

My dad in all of his tights-wearing glory!

There is no caption on the back, so I don’t know anything about what play it was, or what year it was, but it looks like Dad is taking his community theatre role seriously!

So he didn’t become a Hollywood star, but there was more to my dad than I ever knew when he was alive.

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July 14, 2012 · 6:52 pm

Dad’s mystery trip

I came across more old photos of Dad while staying at Mom’s house. I thought this one was pretty interesting. I have no idea where or when it was taken. There’s definitely a feel of the southwestern U.S. or Mexico, with a cactus spotted in the background. It appears to be some kind of sightseeing trip with a couple of his pals.

Dad (on the left) with a couple of pals on a trip.

The story of the trip is lost forever, but I have the image of my young and handsome Dad exploring new places, an interesting snapshot of the man who existed long before I was born.

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