Summertime keeps finding me in trouble: a bike wreck, carrageenan poisoning, a badly stubbed toe, and mineral deficiency. Now it seems to be my mom's turn.
Saturday, I took her to the emergency room because she was having so much pain in her lower back. Since she's disabled, they called a paramedic to help her on to the stretcher, and she remarked how much she liked big, strong men like him. Hey, she's eighty-four, not ninety-four. Since she'd just had several x-rays of her back a few days before that showed nothing was broken, the doctor gave her some pain medication and sent her home.
The pain medication made her woozy. This morning, she lost her balance and fell into her wheelchair while getting out of bed. Dad wouldn't call 911 (he has dementia, and even in better days, he wasn't one to overwhelm you with help). Luckily, mom called 911 herself.
Having called for help some 30 times in the past three months, my parents are personae non gratae with the fire department. The captain himself called me and my brother to say they couldn't keep doing this.
This message and another from my sister-in-law were waiting for me when I got to work. I arranged for someone else to take over for me and went to my parents' house. Their case manager called and said she'd look for a Medicaid-pending nursing care facility for my father if I could get some verification that the application was in the system. After 35 minutes on hold, an employee with the State of Colorado agreed to expedite the paperwork to go through in 72 hours.
The nurse from the emergency center called and I asked her if they could change Mom's pain medication. She became dizzy taking cyclobenzoate, but felt good on valium the last time she was there. She had the same reaction I did when I had valium: she was in pain, but she didn't care. The nurse got the prescription changed.
After my brother and sister-in-law arrived, we discussed what to do in the meantime. I asked if their son would like to live with Mom and Dad. My nephew's roommate had Tourette's Syndrome and diabetes that sounded like it was wildly out of control. He threw all his own mail on the floor and put fresh eggs in with the old ones so that you broke an egg, you never knew if you'd get ingredients for an omelette or a stink bomb. While Dad has some dementia and Mom gets confused sometimes, they're not lunatics. My nephew also had to get around on the bus in a far-flung suburb; at my parents' house, he could use their car. So he and his dog moved into my parents' house today--something I've wanted to happen for a long time. He's strong enough to physically help my parents and he can be there most of the time. My sister-in-law and I moved boxes and boxes of clutter out of my old room, I charged the battery on the car, showed my nephew how to air up the tires and loaned him my jumper cables just in case the battery doesn't hold the charge.
My parents' caregiver will come over evenings to help put my father to bed since my nephew works afternoons and evenings.
Mom is in a lot of pain--she has a swollen black eye and bruises on her torso. She wanted to stay at the hospital. It's painful for her to chew anything and she probably can't cook for awhile. I got her some broccoli cheese soup, chicken salad and Atkins dinners and Atkins bars (which the store kept next to the tampons). It wasn't easy finding pre-made, low-carb food.
My father should go to a nursing home even though he doesn't want to since my mother can't take care of him and the fire department can't keep picking him up every few days. Anyone who thinks that putting someone in a nursing home is cruel and people should be cared for at home can come on over and help with this mess: helping him dress, bathe, use the bathroom, stop him from wandering outside and letting the dogs into the street, and keeping the door and windows closed to avoid $400 heating bills in the winter. To spend more than a few hours a day with my parents, I'd have to quit my job, sell my house and move in with them. (If I quit a good job, where do I get money for my old age?) Getting to their house from my job takes 90 minutes through rush-hour traffic. They don't live close to downtown, the Denver Tech Center or anywhere else I could get a good job--they're out in the suburban boonies without even a bus stop or a light rail station nearby. My efforts some years ago to get them to move closer to my house and job--a move that would have netted them $100,000 in cash, a far lower cost of living, a house with less maintenance, ability to get around without driving, and proximity to two hospitals and a gazillion doctors--met with a stone wall. They wanted to stay in their house, end of sentence, end of paragraph.
So I do the best I can with an employer who needs my services and parents who need my help, and I'm grateful to my brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and my parents' caregiver, neighbor and fire department for their help. I don't hear anybody in the middle of this situation or others like it insisting that people should never go to a nursing home.
Saturday, I took her to the emergency room because she was having so much pain in her lower back. Since she's disabled, they called a paramedic to help her on to the stretcher, and she remarked how much she liked big, strong men like him. Hey, she's eighty-four, not ninety-four. Since she'd just had several x-rays of her back a few days before that showed nothing was broken, the doctor gave her some pain medication and sent her home.
The pain medication made her woozy. This morning, she lost her balance and fell into her wheelchair while getting out of bed. Dad wouldn't call 911 (he has dementia, and even in better days, he wasn't one to overwhelm you with help). Luckily, mom called 911 herself.
Having called for help some 30 times in the past three months, my parents are personae non gratae with the fire department. The captain himself called me and my brother to say they couldn't keep doing this.
This message and another from my sister-in-law were waiting for me when I got to work. I arranged for someone else to take over for me and went to my parents' house. Their case manager called and said she'd look for a Medicaid-pending nursing care facility for my father if I could get some verification that the application was in the system. After 35 minutes on hold, an employee with the State of Colorado agreed to expedite the paperwork to go through in 72 hours.
The nurse from the emergency center called and I asked her if they could change Mom's pain medication. She became dizzy taking cyclobenzoate, but felt good on valium the last time she was there. She had the same reaction I did when I had valium: she was in pain, but she didn't care. The nurse got the prescription changed.
After my brother and sister-in-law arrived, we discussed what to do in the meantime. I asked if their son would like to live with Mom and Dad. My nephew's roommate had Tourette's Syndrome and diabetes that sounded like it was wildly out of control. He threw all his own mail on the floor and put fresh eggs in with the old ones so that you broke an egg, you never knew if you'd get ingredients for an omelette or a stink bomb. While Dad has some dementia and Mom gets confused sometimes, they're not lunatics. My nephew also had to get around on the bus in a far-flung suburb; at my parents' house, he could use their car. So he and his dog moved into my parents' house today--something I've wanted to happen for a long time. He's strong enough to physically help my parents and he can be there most of the time. My sister-in-law and I moved boxes and boxes of clutter out of my old room, I charged the battery on the car, showed my nephew how to air up the tires and loaned him my jumper cables just in case the battery doesn't hold the charge.
My parents' caregiver will come over evenings to help put my father to bed since my nephew works afternoons and evenings.
Mom is in a lot of pain--she has a swollen black eye and bruises on her torso. She wanted to stay at the hospital. It's painful for her to chew anything and she probably can't cook for awhile. I got her some broccoli cheese soup, chicken salad and Atkins dinners and Atkins bars (which the store kept next to the tampons). It wasn't easy finding pre-made, low-carb food.
My father should go to a nursing home even though he doesn't want to since my mother can't take care of him and the fire department can't keep picking him up every few days. Anyone who thinks that putting someone in a nursing home is cruel and people should be cared for at home can come on over and help with this mess: helping him dress, bathe, use the bathroom, stop him from wandering outside and letting the dogs into the street, and keeping the door and windows closed to avoid $400 heating bills in the winter. To spend more than a few hours a day with my parents, I'd have to quit my job, sell my house and move in with them. (If I quit a good job, where do I get money for my old age?) Getting to their house from my job takes 90 minutes through rush-hour traffic. They don't live close to downtown, the Denver Tech Center or anywhere else I could get a good job--they're out in the suburban boonies without even a bus stop or a light rail station nearby. My efforts some years ago to get them to move closer to my house and job--a move that would have netted them $100,000 in cash, a far lower cost of living, a house with less maintenance, ability to get around without driving, and proximity to two hospitals and a gazillion doctors--met with a stone wall. They wanted to stay in their house, end of sentence, end of paragraph.
So I do the best I can with an employer who needs my services and parents who need my help, and I'm grateful to my brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and my parents' caregiver, neighbor and fire department for their help. I don't hear anybody in the middle of this situation or others like it insisting that people should never go to a nursing home.
Comments
I can't see why anyone would blame anyone for sending their parents to a nursing home when it was time. Don't expect the parents to know when such a time is the right one. They are the last people to admit they belong there.
Hope things go well for you from now on. It's time to let go and get your parents placed where they can be well looked after, unless you want to quit your job and do so.
People just can't believe how sick and weak they may be eventually.
There are people who think parents and grandparents should be looked after at home no matter what. I'm sure they've never had to deal with such a situation, or can't imagine someone else being unable to quit their job and move to do so.
That was some anniversary for my parents!
We never know what the future holds and perhaps that is good. It is so important to live life to the full, enjoy special times and make and share good memories.
My mother had dementia in her last years. My father was amazing and looked after her so well with the help of family living close by.
My thoughts are with you all.
Take Care,
All the best Jan
I hope you had a happy anniversary!