A Few New Ingredients... A Few New Sandwiches...

I answered the phone to hear a desperate plea from Beth, my friend since childhood… “Mom had a bad car accident at church yesterday and did a lot of damage.  She says the men of the church told her not to worry about it… that it was no big deal.  Why on earth would they tell her that?”  First of all, my friend’s name is not really Beth, but since I don’t want her to have to go in to the Witness Protection Program, I’m somewhat protecting her identity with a fake name.  So I won’t use her mom’s real name either.  Secondly, I told “Beth”… “In the first place… what happened?  And secondly, you don’t know that the men really said that to your mother.”

Beth began to relay that her mom pulled into her regular parking space at church on Sunday morning (I know the space- a “handicapped” parking area out front), and she apparently hit the gas pedal instead of the brake.  I’ve driven by the church and seen the damage, and for the life of me, I cannot begin to explain how the accident “went down” as it did… but “Lucy” managed to jump the curb, cross a sidewalk, hook a hard right, and plow into a metal railing that is (or was) secured in concrete.  This railing lines a retaining wall that adjoins a playground for the church daycare… one story below!  Probably four to six bars of the railing were mangled and literally pulled up out of the concrete.  But had they not stopped Lucy’s car, she would have plowed head first to the concrete floor below that once housed the church basement… and she could have been killed.  Had it been a weekday (and she does visit the church campus during the week), she could have hit and/or killed toddlers playing there.

I have not seen the car, but I understand that there is significant damage to her front grill.  As I told Beth, I suspect that men rushed to soothe the ruffled feathers of an 88-year-old woman in distress and lovingly told her, “Don’t worry about it… everything will be okay.”  But Lucy told Beth, “All I need to do is pay an extra $50 to the church, and those men will make the repairs.”  Beth made a trip to the church campus to survey the damage, and the office staff told her, “You need to call your insurance agent.”  The scary part is that less than an hour after the accident, my mother saw “Lucy” in the church restroom before morning service began, and Mom said she was “cool as a cucumber.”  Mom had no clue there had been any sort of accident – until I told her days later.

So Beth did call her mom’s insurance company, and she discovered that Lucy had cancelled everything except the minimal coverage our state requires for motorized vehicles.  In a panic, Beth called attorneys, the sheriff, and anyone else she could think of for advice.  She provided credit card information over the phone to increase her mother’s insurance coverage, and she talked to the collision repair guy and asked, once again, to be informed of any visits by her mother.  Lucy has had several “fender benders,” and she has asked the local collision repair shops NOT to tell her daughter and son-in-law that her car was repaired by them.  Of course, they have not complied, realizing the seriousness of this situation – and valuing their friendship with Beth and her husband.  In fact, Beth saw my husband last week at a local sub shop, and she said Lucy had taken the collision repair guy a box of donuts and asked him NOT to tell her kids about any more accidents.  Clearly, he did not honor her request!

Beth paid her mother a visit and suggested it was time to stop driving.  Lucy went ballistic.  In fact, she became quite angry and combative and all but ordered Beth from her home.  Beth forbade her mother to drive out of town (knowing it was only a verbal threat). Her mother continued to have a fit!  Probably a decade ago, Beth’s mother was diagnosed with “vascular dementia” - which mimics Alzheimer’s in many ways.  Beth was given a mountain of information about vascular dementia, including a checklist of common behaviors associated with this condition.  She said, “Mother checks everyone on the list now.”

Upon the advice of our local sheriff, Beth contacted the DMV, who referred her to a “Driver Control” office in a nearby city.  The person there recommended that Beth ask her mother’s physician to write a letter stating that Lucy was no longer physically capable of driving safely.  The doctor readily agreed.  He told Beth, “I do this all the time… and I’m glad to do it.”  Now, lest you think this doctor is a little too eager to get elderly drivers off the road, consider that his late grandfather practiced medicine until nearly his 96th birthday.  This doctor is very “senior friendly.”  But as he pointed out to Beth, “I have to think about what sort of drivers are on the road with my wife and four children.”  So he wrote the letter and sent it to driver control.

Fast forward a week or so, and Beth’s mother was supposed to play cards one evening with some other seniors.  However, she was unable to attend, because she was so upset over a letter she had received in the mail about her driving… and she was quite sure her kids had instigated it!   I talked to Beth the day after the card party and asked her about the letter… her mother had not mentioned it to her.  So Beth called and “played dumb,” and her mother said she had gotten “something about the insurance,” and never admitted that she had heard from Driver Control.  However, she had been summoned for a hearing… and that has subsequently taken place.  Apparently more information will be required from her doctor in order to determine whether or not she can continue driving.  Failure to attend any hearings or to comply in any way results in immediate suspension of one’s driver’s license.  Lucy is livid!

My friend Beth has her own “sandwich” going on… her second oldest son just returned home for the summer after his freshman year of college, and she has a nearly 16-year-old son who will be a high school sophomore this year.  She works close to fulltime in her husband’s business, in addition to shuffling the duties of caring for her family and her mother - and working in her church.  The day she called me, she had been to some sort of meeting three out of five nights that particular week.  She has begged her mother to move into an Assisted Living Facility – or even to move into a condo on the grounds of the Assisted Living Facility - so that she could avail herself of some of their services.  Her mother flatly refuses.

I am not sure how this is all going to be resolved.  Lucy adamantly maintains that she will not stop driving.  And I know it is a real problem.  Some of my grandparents and elderly relatives politely laid down their car keys… others gave up kicking and screaming.  A dear friend of mine who is probably in her late 70s is currently dealing with this dilemma with regard to her husband, who suffers from dementia and cancer.  This once-brilliant man can no longer remember where he went when he leaves home in the car… or who he saw while he was out.  He went for a haircut recently, and when he returned home, he could not tell her which barber had cut his hair.  Lately, the doctor has told this man he can no longer drive.  He commented to his wife, “If I can’t drive any more, then I will just shoot myself.”  I don’t know how she copes with the worry that she might indeed find him dead someday.

Someone said to me, “Just take the car keys or disable the car.”  My response in Lucy’s case was, “Do you know how many church deacons she would immediately phone to come fix her car?”  As for the woman whose husband refuses to stop driving...and to some degree, Lucy, as well… we are talking about people who are strong-willed, frequently belligerent and combative… and physically powerful when “fully engaged.”  It’s just not that simple.

So what is the answer?  In my opinion, there comes a time when we must realize that our loved ones are no longer the person we knew and loved… they are not responsible for their actions – nor capable of making wise decisions.  We must decide for them what is in their best interest – and the best interest of others, as well. Beth’s mother told a group of friends that none of her accidents until this last one were her fault.  That isn’t true… the collision repair man pointed out to her where she had damaged the underside of her bumpers by running OVER something – which Beth pointed out to her could have been a child that she hit and killed.  But Lucy’s comment to her friends prompted one of them to say, “We just all need to get together and tell that judge that you are a good driver.”  This person hasn’t a clue!  We, as caregivers and children – and responsible adults – must sometimes recognize that whatever decision we make is not going to set well with our loved one… and we must go ahead and do what makes sense.  For some, that means insisting they move to a facility – or get rid of the car.  It’s a tough call… but not much about the Sandwich Generation is easy!

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A few weeks ago, my husband and I traveled to Little Rock to see a movie and do some shopping.  We stopped at Sam’s on the way home.  My husband purchased some storage cabinets for the garage, so we required assistance in loading them into the car.  While Greg went to get our car, I stood with the cart outside the exit doors at Sam’s.  I observed a young woman - with a FULL basket that included a small toddler-as she loaded her purchases into a mini-van.  She opened the passenger door and handed a box with some fresh fruit and a cake or some sort of baked good to an elderly woman.  “Hold these so they don’t get smashed,” she said.  The next thing I knew, the woman was getting out of the van.  The girl gingerly said to her, “Please get back into the car.  I need you to hold your cake so it doesn’t get smashed.”

 

By now, she had loaded the toddler into the back seat, where I could hear screaming and crying.  She muttered, “He’ll be asleep soon,” as she continued loading this mountain of merchandise into the van – tucking things into every nook and cranny.  And did I mention it was incredibly hot and humid for late May in Arkansas?  The poor girl was sweating and out of breath.  I so wanted to help her, but I knew better than to offer and upset her “system.”

 

Finally, I asked… “Is that your grandmother?”  She nodded and said, “Yes.  My mother died two years ago, so now I try to do all I can for her.”  I told her that I understood completely.  “I’ve been right where you are with a grandmother in one seat and a baby in another,” I told her.  She replied, “Well, it wasn’t bad until I had these last two only 2 years apart.”  So she has at least three children… and I realized that TWO of them were in the back seats of that van!  Talk about a SANDWICH!  I wished her well as she slammed the last door shut, and I thanked God for my own little “sandwich,” such as it is!

 

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Grandma "E" with Nathan

Lest you think my sandwich has lost one of its slices of “bread” now that my grandmother has passed… it seems that my mother-in-law, whom Timothy and Zola call Grandma “E”,  is beginning to do a nice job of filling in the gap.  I’m not complaining.  I love my mother-in-law.  She is a jewel.  She will also be 87 in a few days… and in the last six months, she has begun to feel every single year of that age.  Things hurt that didn’t used to… she has no energy or “ambition” (one of her favorite words)… and her short-term memory is pretty well shot.  We have just completed a two-day yard sale, which was her version of “downsizing.”  My husband begged her not to overdo it.  As I said, we are already smack in the middle of Arkansas heat and humidity.  She decided to concentrate on “only cleaning the garage.”  I cannot begin to tell you what this means.

Grandma “E” spent two weeks working virtually every day in her garage, sorting, setting things out on tables, and rearranging.  She insisted she didn’t work that much, but neighbors reported differently… and we could see how tired she was when we would check in on her.  She found items she has not seen since she moved into this house in 1997… and some probably packed long before that and simply moved to the new abode.  She spent a good part of Friday searching – physically and mentally – for four small dolls “in blue boxes” – only to decide yesterday that she probably sold them many years ago and just doesn’t remember.  When the sale was over, I boxed up what I had left and we loaded it to take to the thrift store.  My mother-in-law plans to repack all of her “treasures” and “tuck it into the corners of the garage.”  My husband told me, “We are never, never, EVER having another garage sale… and neither is Mom!”  He has suggested to her that she have an auction… but she cannot bear to part with her treasures… so that will have to wait.

Meanwhile, Grandma “E” mentioned to me the other day that her knee was really hurting…her “bad knee.”  She had arthroscopic knee surgery several years ago, but the other knee now bothers her, and the orthopedist says it’s too far gone for anything but a replacement, which she doesn’t want to have done – and I don’t blame her!”  She said, “I accidentally knelt down on that bad knee to get something out of a cabinet, and I almost didn’t get back up.  It hurt SO badly.”  She went on to tell me that she has a hard time getting in and out of the bath tub, and that “I have to get on my hands and knees to get out of the tub now.” 

I repeated this to my husband, and the next day she demonstrated to him how she gets out of the tub.  I didn’t see this, but she actually puts some sort of piece of foam rubber into the tub to help with this somehow.  We talked at length about her tub situation.  My mother-in-law loves to bathe.  She said, “I like to fill the tub so full that the water comes up around my ears.  We talked about walk-in tubs.  But you have to get in, close the door, let the tub fill with water, then sit in the tub while the water drains out afterward.  That all sounds cold and uncomfortable to me, and she was not on board with doing this.

My husband conferred with his brothers, and they agreed that a walk-in shower is in order… the days of bathing are drawing to an end.  I told my husband, “There is a reason there are no bath tubs at the Assisted Living Facility and the senior condos!” We had lunch last week with Greg’s mother and one of his brothers and sisters-in-law, and we talked about contacting a local carpenter and plumber to redo her bathroom.  The brothers may also look into the possibility of placing additional hand rails in the spare bath tub, in case there comes a time that she INSISTS on having a bath.  While we were discussing all of this, my sister-in-law said something about the danger of using bath oils.  I had not realized that my mother-in-law uses those little “pearl” thingies that dissolve and put oil in your bath water.  She loves them!  OR… she uses Avon’s Skin-so-Soft!  Now I don’t know about you, but there is little to no hope of me getting out of the tub safely after using one of these items… it’s like trying to stand up in Crisco!  

So we insisted she stop using these products IMMEDIATELY and start moisturizing AFTER she gets out of the tub. Hopefully the new shower project will happen soon and alleviate this potential danger.  I’d bet you a dollar to a donut she is still using her bath beads, but I can’t prove it.  We were talking about people who lie yesterday, and Greg asked her, “Are you always truthful with me?”  She nodded and replied, “Yes, I never keep things from you… unless it’s something I don’t want you to know!”  And then she giggled.  Greg told me the other day that he thought she had not been honest with him about something – maybe how much she had worked in the garage in the heat – and I said, “You don’t think your mother would lie to you, do you?”  He replied, “Oh, I’m pretty sure she would never admit it… but yes, I’m quite sure she does if she doesn’t think the truth is what I want to hear!”  I just shook my head.

Timothy - now FOUR years old!

Last Sunday, we picked up my Grandma "E" for church… and then we picked up Timothy and Zola.  After church, we went to McDonald’s for lunch.  We ordered “Happy Meals” for the kids (and I got one, too), and Greg got chicken nuggets and fries to share with his mom.  She requested one of those coffee drinks with all the whipped cream on top.  We sat down to eat, and the kids had their meals and Cokes (a special Sunday treat), and Timothy said to Grandma “E”, “Mmmmm… I want one of THOSE!”  I explained that it was coffee, and he said, “I like coffee!”  He did not get any… and he was quite good about it.

Zola - now TWO years old!

But I had to laugh as we drove home. The children were sitting in their car seats, sleepy and ready for naps… and Grandma “E” was sitting in the front passenger seat, sleepy and ready for HER nap!

Yes, our “sandwich” continues… it just has a few new ingredients.

Safety in Numbers... and Paying it Forward

Yesterday, I attended a quarterly Family Council meeting at the ALF.  Dr. Kimberly Curseen, Medical Director of the geriatric palliative care program at the UAMS Reynolds Institute on Aging was the speaker.  I'll be honest... I almost didn't go.  And as Dr. Curseen began to speak, I wondered why I was there.  It wasn't her fault.  But the discussion centered on Alzheimer's patients and their care... and dementia.   However, as Dr. Curseen began to explain the stages of Alzheimer's and dementia... and the various kinds of dementia... she hit on several things that resonated with me and my situation with Mam-ma Polly... and she gave me several insights.

The first thing that hit home with me was Dr. Curseen's comment that "one of the last things to go" in dementia patients is the "social graces"... the ability to smile, say "Hi!  How are you?"... or to shake a visitor's hand.  She said this is why patiens will light up when someone enters the room and speaks to them... and this is 100% Mam-ma Polly.  Later in the discussion, I said to the group, "If one more person tells me that Mam-ma 'still has that sweet smile,' I think I may scream."  Mam-ma will die with that sweet smile.  It's all she has left!  The administrator chimed in and agreed... "Even when Polly feels really bad... like today... she is still smiling."  Another family member attending the meeting asked, "Oh, is that the sweet little lady who is always peddling around in her wheelchair... the one with the white hair?"  That's my Mam-ma Polly!

Later, Dr. Curseen talked about how difficult it is to take Alzheimer's and dementia patients out of their routine.  She mentioned that once-frequented restaurants may now be too crowded, noisy and confusing for the patient.  She suggested that any visits to places outside of the facility be done at off times... with small groups... in quieter settings.  This really resonated, too.  Mam-ma did not do well at all the last few times we took her out to eat.  And the ALF administrator added that they always see a lot of behavioral problems with residents around the holidays... when families insist on taking them out of the facility and away from familiar surroundings.

This was another revelation for me... and I thanked the administrator for speaking out.  I told her that I truly grieved over the decision this Christmas NOT to take Mam-ma out and try to get her to our house on Christmas Eve.  While I knew in my head that we could not physically get her inside - she didn't even make it off the driveway last year! - I still felt guilty.  And then someone asked me, "How was it the last Christmas she was with you?"  "Terrible!" I replied.  "She slept most of the time or looked and acted miserable... and she was ready to go home before dark."  "So there's your answer," this person told me... and she was right.  And now I had reinforcement from the facility staff.  Mom and her husband ate lunch with Mam-ma on Christmas Day... I was there for the facility dinner earlier... and a day or so before Christmas.  And Mam-ma was fine... probably happier than the last Christmas she spent with us. 

When the doctor finished her discussion, the family members began to talk and share.  One lady, a retired nurse for the state hospital, told of her husband, who has Alzheimer's.  She said she should have seen the signs earlier, but she didn't... and maybe she didn't want to.  The doctor very lovingly reassured her that "We see the signs when we are ready.  You did nothing wrong.  When the time was right, you made the move."  This sweet lady spoke so lovingly of her husband and how she visits him each day... and how hard it has been.

Another lady spoke of her mother, who is apparently the QUEEN of guilt trips.  She told of visiting recently with her sister.  Her mother lay in bed repeating, "Oh, LORD, help me!  LORD, help me!"  Finally, the daughter said, "Mother, what do you need?  We're right here!  Why don't you let us help you?"  The mother replied, "Because I can trust HIM!"  We all had a laugh, but the woman tearfully said, "It's been four years now... when do I stop feeling guilty?  I can't even enjoy doing the things Mother used to do, because I feel so guilty that she can no longer do them."

I reminded this lady that we honor our loved ones when we do the things they can no longer do - or at least I believe we do.  I told her that I can make my grandmother's sugar cookies and homemade rolls, and in sharing them with others, I feel like I carry on her legacy.  Now, this woman's mother may not admit that to HER... but the administrators assured her that out of sight, this woman is adorable and pleasant - that she truly has mastered making her daughter feel guilty... and delights in doing so!  And this may never change.

What can change is this woman's attitude.  She can live in the world of her mother when she visits, and leave it at the door.  I know it is hard, but you can do it if you work at it.  We also all agreed that talking and sharing helps tremendously.  I pointed out that I believe if anything positive can come from our experiences, it is that we share them with others who are going through a similar situation, so that they know they are not alone.

In the end, the doctor told us that statistics show that the stress level of caregivers with a loved one still at home versus that of a caregiver who has admitted their loved one to a facility is markedly similar... no real difference.  I found that tremendously profound.  I don't think I am nearly as stressed now that Mam-ma is at the ALF... but if I add up all of the trips and meetings and phone calls and struggles over laundry and diapers and wipes and medications and falls... the wondering if/when the phone will ring... the not feeling comfortable to leave town because this might be "the day" that we are needed... I see that the stress is still here.  It's just packaged a little differently and distributed in spurts more than day-to-day (and sometimes hour-to-hour) like before.

So I came away from the meeting with a sense of community.  We are all in this boat together... and we have stories to tell... people to encourage... and at least one for each of us who desperately needs us to reassure him/her that they are still loved, valuable, and honored.  For the foreseeable future, this is my task.  I pray for the patience to see it through.

Meanwhile, I need to throw in a happy thought.  Timothy started HIPPY this week... the Home Instruction for Parents of Preschool Youngsters program.  He LOVES it already, and he made quite an impression on the instructors at the elementary school when he went for his evaluation.  All three of our little ones are growing like weeds (and keeping the other end of the spectrum in perspective!).  Oh, LORD... give me strength!

Our little Zola... almost 2.

Nathan Daniel (7 months) with his Uncle Greg

Creating Balance in Your Sandwich... How to Avoid Doing the Wrong Things

The sale is over... and the final clean-up has begun.  I have to box up what did not sell and get it ready for the local thrift store... and then meet a driver who will come to collect the items.  That should finish my portion of the business with regard to Mam-ma's house and belongings.  Lest anyone think that this frees me of any responsibilities, there are still monthly bills to be paid... so that involves a checking account... and almost daily phone calls from my grandmother with something she needs... forgot... doesn't like... or has just remembered.

There are still "wrinkles" to smooth - like a mix-up with the pharmacy used by the ALF and over billing... and a few other little things... but nothing major.  This morning our power went out during a thunderstorm and was off for two hours.  I was so thankful that my grandmother was in a place where someone could attend to her and handle such matters... and I wasn't worried about her... or the contents of her freezer melting, and other problems.

Last week, I attended my first "Family Council" meeting at the ALF one afternoon.  The meeting ended up lasting two hours... but it was time well spent.  The speaker was an R.N. who is affiliated with Hospice, and the focus of her presentation was on Hospice care for Alzheimer's patients.  However, the information was appropriate for anyone caring for an elderly person... particularly those with dementia or the onset of dementia.

I learned several things about Alzheimer's patients that I did not know... how they often become obsessed with sorting, and many of them spend hours every day sorting their clothing, packing, and making little piles of their belongings.  The nurse and the ALF administrator said the biggest hurdle with some of these obsessive behaviors is getting the caregivers and family members of these residents to "let it go" and be okay with the disarray in the room and the annoying behaviors.  Another common thing is dressing in multiples... wearing more than one shirt and/or pair of pants.  It doesn't hurt the patients, but it makes some caregivers and family members nuts!  And learning to let this be okay is vital to the mental health of all parties!

I also learned that, even with my grandmother, when we are at the ALF, we must operate in their world.  If my grandmother is focused on something she views as a problem... like what happened to all of her stuff... it's my job to gently change the subject and redirect the focus.  The administrator said that one day she entered the room of an Alzheimer's patient who was packing, and the patient said, "I'm going home today."  She replied, "Great!  Come have dinner with us first - before you leave."  By the time the resident ate, he/she had forgotten about the move.  If I can learn to avoid conflict and argument with my grandmother and gently redirect the conversations when they become argumentative or controversial... then leave it at the door... we will both be happier!

I relayed some of what I learned to my mother, and she said, "Yes, I did it all wrong with my mother."  And while I'm not sure that is totally true, she did argue with my grandmother a lot.  When Grandmother saw my grandfather (who had been dead for years) in the dining hall "with another woman," and Grandmother insisted she had read about their liaisons in the local newspaper, she shouted, "I will not have this!"  And my mother insisted that she was NOT seeing Grand-dad... and that this was totally ridiculous. They argued about this for months. My grandmother had Parkinson's disease... which produces a dementia similar to Alzheimer's.  She thought her baby doll was real... and she called my niece Samantha to almost her dying day.  My niece's name is Jasmine.  There were dozens of these little quirks... and admittedly my grandmother was always quirky... but they escalated as she declined... and we did not handle them well much of the time.

Had we learned to redirect the conversations more and steer Grandmother to more pleasant and less confrontational topics, we might have had happier visits quite often.  There's more to this story, but every little "tool" helps to create a happier environment, so I was glad to gain a few strategies from my meeting... and I hope they will help others. 

Toward this end, here are a few other suggestions that were presented in a hand-out we were given from the National Caregiving Foundation.  I have selected a few that I feel apply to any elderly person - not just those with Alzheimer's.

• Your care-recipient will be upset about what the future holds. He needs to be reassured that the family will see that he is cared for. He needs to continue to feel that he is a valued family member.
   
• Be very vigilant about keeping him as involved as possible in the family's activities and decision-making; this will help him to cope with his own anxiety. 
• Don't talk about his memory loss in front of him and certainly not as though he is not there; such behavior on your part, can be very upsetting and demeaning for him. 
• Don't allow him to become withdrawn because he can't remember short term events and conversation very well.
• Don't be demanding about normal daily activities. An example is letting him dress himself even though it takes time. Be patient; not critical. You can assist him by setting his clothes out in the order of putting on.
• He will almost certainly still be able to manage simple chores which do not tax his memory, so involve him; it will help him to maintain his dignity.
• If he tends to get lost when he goes on errands put his name and address in his wallet to make him feel more secure.
• In the event that he forgets the names of people he knows well, prompt him discreetly, to help him save face.
• Don't confront him with complex, challenging decisions or questions; if you do, you will almost certainly add to his confusion.

The website for the National Caregiving Foundation offers lots of good information and support.  I encourage you to check them out for yourself by visiting the website.  And remember... it's all about balance.  Last week, in the middle of all of the chaos of the sale and getting things in order, I took an afternoon off to hike six miles with my husband and share a picnic lunch on a sunny spring day.  A few days later, I set aside everything to spend the entire day playing with our little Timothy... hiding Easter eggs, reading books, working puzzles, singing and dancing, and appreciating the wonders and excitement of a 2-year-old's world.  

Thinking about that time made the hectic days that followed so much more manageable.  I hope you are finding ways to create balance in your "sandwich!"

"In a Few Weeks, You Couldn't Drag Her Back Home..."

"In a few weeks, you couldn't drag her back home!"  This was the phrase my 87-year-old cousin uttered to me yesterday when I stopped to visit with him and told him how my grandmother was settling in at the assisted living facility (ALF).  I think he's right.  It's been almost two weeks, and I've seen a marked adjustment in my grandmother's attitude already.

Don't get me wrong.  It's not been all smoothe sailing... at least not from my vantage point.  She has blown up at both me and my husband, who - as my cousin put it - we thought walked on water!  She spun on a dime last week in front of my mom and her husband, wagged her little finger at me and expressed at the top of her lungs her disgust with me over the size of a hand towel!  But in all, she is adjusting more every day.

Yesterday, we revisited "the closet" and removed several items that I didn't want to take in the first place - but she insisted.  Now she realizes she doesn't need them, won't wear them... and doesn't even like them.  Some don't even fit!

Her chief complaints seem to be... 1) There is too much good food... I'm gaining a lot of weight; and 2) There is too much to do down here!  She very well may be gaining a few pounds, but we've told her Wal-Mart sells bigger pants!  And she is getting good food - three times a day every day, as well as regulated medication as prescribed - every dose!  That has to make a difference!

Tea time happens every night.   I took her two boxes of Sleepytime Herbal Tea tonight, along with another couple of boxes of Chewy Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies for Tea Time.  Yesterday, she won a Nestle's Crunch candy bar - a big one... playing BINGO!  Yes, she still plays BINGO, despite her declaration the first day that she would "never play again!"  She has made new friends, rekindled old friendships, and won the hearts of the staff already.  She has the maintenance guy wrapped around her little finger.  She told him yesterday, "I just love you!"  His reply... "I love you more!"

I'm sure there will be bumps in the road and days when things are simply awful there.  But for the most part, it's getting better.  I still have to clean out the house and have a sale, so that my mom can put the house on the market.  But that will happen soon.  I'm ready to get this all done.  My husband and I went out of town to shop last week, and as we sat in a restaurant having a nice lunch, I told him, "It is such a relief to know that Mam-ma is safe and sound, cared for and having fun doing what she is supposed to do.  I can relax and enjoy my lunch and the day - and I'm having a wonderful time."  I look forward to even more of this... and more quality days for my grandmother, as well.  I really can see light at the end of this tunnel!

Timothy visited us all day on Thursday.  How we have missed him the last couple of months.  We read, played with toys, watched "Jack's Big Music Show," went for strolls on a warm spring day and played outside.  It was a very good day... and at the end, Timothy found the full moon rising in the sky - the one we read about in his story books - and he pointed and showed everyone, "MOON!"  A very good day indeed.

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On another front, my 87-year-old cousin (I guess he's about my 3rd cousin), is really starting to decline.  He lives in a condominium on the same campus as my grandmother.  His wife died several years ago, and he has a companion now... a nice lady named Mary.  Last week, Mary fell as they left the local dance hall, and she broke her leg.  So she has had surgery to insert a rod in her leg, and she is in a hospital in a city 30 miles away.

My cousin has the onset of Alzheimer's.  He was diagnosed about 3 years ago, and honestly, I could just not see that at the time.  He still seemed good to me... told great stories and jokes - and remembered the punch lines - and he just seemed clear as a bell for his age.  But Mary told me that "he can't remember what I told him an hour ago.  Long term memory is fine, but the short-term is really bad."  On top of all of this, he has had heart bypass surgery and now has an aneurysm on his belly that is "very large and very long."  He saw a surgeon recently about having stents put in to relieve the aneurysm... he is not a candidate for conventional surgery.  To date, no one has called him with a surgery date.

The doctors say if this surgery is not performed, someday soon this aneurysm will rupture, and my cousin will simply be gone in an instant.  Doesn't sound all that bad to me (or my cousin)... until you factor in that my cousin still drives.. and he has been driving himself to this nearby city to visit his companion, Mary.  My mother talked with him sternly and told him flatly that he could kill someone else if this aneurysm ruptures while he is at the wheel.  He got friends to take him back and forth to the hospital the next two days.  But he drove himself around our town - to a local restaurant for breakfast, and who knows where else.

I stopped to visit with my cousin yesterday.  He has three grown children, but none live in our community - the closest is about 4 hours away.  They have been made aware of this situation.  I asked my cousin how he got to the hospital yesterday... he said two lady friends he knows from the dance hall took him.  I know one of these ladies, and she is capable of making this drive... and she is a very sweet lady.  My cousin said they were coming back for him last night for the dance.  I asked, "What time are they coming?"  "Oh, I don't know," he answered.  It was about 6:00 p.m., and I mentioned the time, and I asked, "What are you doing for dinner?"  He replied, "I don't remember if they said anything about dinner or not."  I offered to fix him something.  He said no thanks... he ate a handful of nuts and drank a Coke.

Then he said, "I really can't remember what they said about coming back.  I'm sure they are coming after me... I just don't know when."  His answering machine was blinking, and I said, "You have eight messages."  He replied, "I don't know how to get them off."  Now, even my Mam-ma can get her messages off the answering machine!  I offered to get them, and he said this would be great!  So I got the messages... and one was a cardiologist's office - he missed his telephone pacemaker check.  There was no message from the surgeon about a date for his aneurysm surgery, but I pointed out that he could easily miss a message for that by not checking his machine.  I offered to stop by again and check the messages, and he didn't say yes... but he didn't say no.

Also on the machine was a message from Mary's daughter - "Poppa... remember to take your medicine.  This is your reminder.  Take your medicine... okay?"  I asked... "Did you take your medicine?"  "Well," he answered, "I think I did."  He was recently hospitalized for pneumonia and is probably still on antibiotics, along with medications for blood pressure and other things related to his heart.  I really don't know.  My parting words to him were, "Remember to take your medicine."  He said, "I'll try - I think I have a couple more doses left."

You know those e-mail jokes that come around about people saying and doing stupid things, and the punch line is... "They walk among us!"?  Well, there are countless people like my cousin who have no business living alone unattended... much less DRIVING... who WALK AMONG US... and honestly, the highways and city streets are incredibly dangerous because of this!  I have vowed not to get too involved in this situation, much as I love this man, because honestly, I have plenty to worry about as it is... and he does have three... count 'em - THREE grown children (at least one of whom is retired) who could handle this!

I know this is the tip of the iceberg for what goes on in this country with regard to our elderly and how they are treated... and it's honestly no better for many of our children.  We often find ourselves encountering situations that involve both old and young people who "need a keeper!"  In this case, I simply refuse to be "It!"

What about you?  Do you have situations that you can share with others in this space... and are willing to do so?  Please use the link in the left sidebar to contact me and tell your story.  I will try to begin offering suggestions/solutions/encouragement to you in your own journey... utilizing some of the information I have gleaned from my experiences and the new insights I am sure I will gain from this leg of the journey involving an assisted living facility.  My prayer is that you are getting plenty of rest, taking care of yourself, and that you realize you are never alone in this Sandwich!

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Today, I stopped by my grandmother's house to drop of the clothes she doesn't want, so I can price them next week for the upcoming sale. I started sorting through her cookbooks, and I stumbled upon a spiral notebook, in which my grandmother had recorded something of a "journal" - lots of information and stories about her life as a young girl... and as a young wife and mother.  I felt these insights truly reflected the real Polly.  She was writing down her thoughts and recollections... not making a great story for someone else.  It was enlightening, and humbling as I read about how hard she worked even as a child... how she even made my grandfather's underwear from old feed sacks because that was all they could afford.

Over and over, as my grandmother told how hard she worked, she kept saying, "But we sure had fun."  She talked of how my she and my grandfather started their marriage with almost quite literally nothing... yet they loved each other and made their own way.  She talked of giving birth to my dad while living in a 3-room shanty... and how much they loved him.  She talked of struggles along the way and hard times... but she didn't complain... at least not in this journal.  She also spoke of how much she felt the Holy Spirit... and how vital her relationship with her Lord has been to her through the years.

My mom gave my grandmother this notebook and asked her to write down some things on the pages.  In the inside cover, Mom wrote this passage from Jeremiah 29:11... "For I know the plans I have for you," said the Lord... "plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."  I think it is fitting that God has allowed my grandmother to make this recent move... to live in the "lap of luxury" compared to much of her life.  I hope that she finds these weeks/months/years to be as filled with fun and love as the times she writes of in the journal... maybe even more.  As I see it, God is still providing her with plans for a good future filled with hope... His reward for her faithful service.  We should all be so blessed!

So Much for Planning Ahead

I really didn't know what to expect Friday on my weekly trek with Mam-ma.  I ran some errands before getting to her house about 1:15 p.m. She had placed a towel in the floor on her carpet where the dining area meets the carpet, and I asked about it. First mistake. Well, it was because she had cleaned the carpet, and she wanted it to dry. So she had spilled something on the carpet? "NO! I just got stuff on it from the floor." "Oh, so you mopped the kitchen and splashed out?" "NO! I did this area and the one in the other kitchen doorway." Apparently my ESP was not working Friday. Finally, I surmised that she had decided the carpet leading into her kitchen and dining areas was dirty, and she had somehow spot cleaned it!  (When we returned from the beauty shop, I removed the towel - a huge tripping hazard that could have produced a fall.)

Then I sat down to dispense her medicine for another two weeks, and I looked at her grocery list, and on the bottom she had written "Lorazepam." I had just come from the pharmacy getting medicine for my husband and me - I got HER meds the previous Friday. I asked, "Are you completely out of this?" "Well, purty much!" she replied.  I counted - she had ten doses. I said, "You don't take one every day, do you?" Oh yes, she takes one every night - and sometimes in between. So she didn't think 10 would do her for another week.

I called the pharmacy and ordered a refill... her last. She had not had this refilled since April, so that tells you how often she takes a half tablet - clearly not every night! But she is never going to grasp the concept of planning ahead... it's all I can do to get her to buy milk when she still has part of a half gallon! And I bought her EIGHT bags of Cotton Pickin' Cornbread Friday, because they hardly ever have it any more at Wal-Mart and don't carry it at the other grocery store in town. A friend of mine was checking out behind me and said, "Your grandmother must eat a LOT of cornbread." I told her, "You have NO idea!"

As I hung up the phone from calling the pharmacy to order the Lorazepam, Mam-ma pressed on her lower abdomen and said, "I think I'm getting a .... oh, a ..... oh... um... well... a kidney stone. Sometimes it really hurts there... it comes and goes." Well, if it comes and goes, that's probably not a kidney stone. I just ignored her. As my sister pointed out later ... she tells me this on a FRIDAY afternoon?!

As I filled her meds, there were SEVERAL compartments that were still full... like all for a Friday and Saturday, and some for a Thursday night. I questioned her... did she not take her medicine today? Yes, she did... that was for Friday. "Today is Friday." "Well, I don't know." But she assured me she had taken her meds that day... and even at noon. So I have no clue why there was three days worth of medicine there, but I told her, "You know, when you miss your medicine, that might be why you feel bad and can't explain it." She didn't respond. All of those compartments should have been empty except for the one for Friday night's medicine.

We stopped and got her Ativan (Lorazepam), and on the way to the beauty shop, she asked, "Are y'all gonna join that place and swim?" I told her we have not joined our city's new community center, and we haven't decided whether we will. She said, "Well Ruby went out there, and she says it's real nice. She's gonna do some things out there. She told me 'Polly, you ort to have Debbie take you out there and get you a membership, and you could go with me.'"

I suggested she let Ruby try a few times and see if she liked it and was going to continue going before we got a membership, but I added, "...but we can get you one.  They aren't that expensive." She retorted immediately, "Why it won't cost me a thing!" I asked her how she figured that, and she said, "Well, if you have Blue Cross, it doesn't cost you anything." Now my mother-in-law told us that if you have Blue Cross/Blue Shield medical insurance, you can participate in the "Silver Sneakers" classes at no cost... or so she heard. But I said to Mam-ma... "But you don't have Blue Cross." "I most certainly DO!" she retorted! "Mam-ma," I told her... "you have Medicare and Medicaid. Your prescription drug coverage this year is Blue Cross. That is NOT medical insurance." "Well I know it IS!" she shot back. I told her *I* would look into it for her. I do not want her calling out there and playing the "poor little widder woman" card.  Hopefully she has not done so already!

I plan to check into the memberships at our community center ... there is a lovely walking track, and that would be a safe, comfortable place for Mam-ma and Ruby to walk year-round.  I think it will cost her $10 a month, and she can well afford that.  I plan to investigate the memberships this week and will probably get her one that starts August 1st.  So hopefully I can take a 3-month membership (the minimum) to Mam-ma next Friday that will be effective the following Monday.

I have not heard another word about the "kidney stone," and it was not mentioned when we returned from the beauty shop.  I'm assuming she has moved on to some other ailment or distraction by now.  If she gets upset, she has plenty of Lorazepam now!

Meanwhile, I recently heard about a woman who was diagnosed several years ago with vascular dementia, which has symptoms that sometimes mimic Alzheimer's.  Her daughter noticed that there was something wrong with the back bumper of this woman's car.  When she asked her about it, the woman said, "Oh, the paint is just peeling."  Wanting to be sure, the daughter asked her husband to take a look, and he said, "She's hit something."  So when confronted, the mother said, "Well, I didn't want to tell you, but I was trying to parallel park, and I backed into a car behind me."  The daughter said, "And you found the driver and exchanged information?"  The mother replied, "Well NO!  I got out of there!"  Her daughter tried to explain that this was illegal and could be considered a "hit and run," but the woman didn't care ... she was not sticking around to risk a citation! 

It was a funny story that really wasn't funny ... but at least I was thankful Mam-ma no longer drives.  Hey ... I will take a "silver lining" anywhere I can find it these days!