Who is Driving the Car...Keeping Your "Sandwich" Safe

Some of the most challenging situations you and I will ever experience center around a car. I still remember begging my parents to let me drive before my 16th birthday.  Several other kids my age had been given the keys to their parents' cars well before they were of legal age to drive. One of my cousins and a great-niece already had brand new cars in the garage several months before their 16th birthday...ready for them to drive on their big day.  But my parents would not relent...and I was not allowed to make a solo drive until the morning of my 16th birthday.

Me atop my Grand-dad's car in a high school parade - 1972.
I think the car was a Plymouth Sebring!

Conversely, I remember the ordeal that arose when my mother had to tell my Grand-dad (her dad) that he could no longer drive.  He was not having it!  My grandmother stopped driving fairly early, because she was given a diagnosis of Parkinson's Disease, and she somewhat reluctantly accepted the fact that it was deemed unsafe for her to drive. But my poor grandfather felt that my mother and dad were totally emasculating him by suggesting that he put down his car keys.  

Never mind that Grand-dad could not see well enough to discern a raw onion from potatoes on the dinner table...or that he could not hear most of what was said in normal conversation.  Forget the fact that Grand-dad passed someone on the highway north of town one night and took off this person's side mirror - and never knew it!  My Grand-dad still thought he needed to be able to drive...if for no other reason than to be able to transport my grandmother wherever she wished to go. The only way Mother convinced Grand-dad to give up his car is by telling him that a beloved grandson who lived in Texas needed the vehicle.  If Brent needed his car, Grand-dad was glad to let him have it.  

I am quite certain that on some level, my grandfather realized that he was being handed an "out"...but he was allowed to "save face" somewhat.  He wasn't really giving up driving as much as he was helping out his grandson by providing him with a car.  And that was that...except that more than ever, my mother and I - and other family members - were called upon for rides to everything from church to doctor appointments to shopping trips, and more.  And we made this "taxi service" work.

My great-Aunt Altha simply declared at some point that she was finished driving. She called her grandson and told him to sell her car...which he did.  Nothing else was said...there was no remorse.  My aunt fully realized that the time had come to put away her car keys and let someone else do the driving. If only it were always that easy!

1967 Chevy Impala similar to the one my grandmother owned. 
Photo from http://www.impalass427.com

When my dad's mother - my Mam-ma Polly - began to have some little "fender benders" at age 95, we began to hint that the car should probably go.  However, the decision was pretty much hers. And one day, she asked my sister and brother-in-law if they would help her sell her 1967 Chevy Impala - a "mountain-green" tank with a white hard top (similar to the one pictured, but I think hers was four-door).  I believe the buyer paid $500...but the bigger payoff was that the car was not available...and the temptation to drive it was removed.

My Grand-dad and my Mam-ma Polly both lamented frequently that they had to depend on others for rides. They really missed their cars. I think my maternal grandmother and great-aunt enjoyed being chauffeured around - especially my grandmother.  It was not always convenient to shuttle them here and there...and we couldn't always drop everything and go at the very minute that they called and wanted a ride. For my grandmother, especially, planning ahead was a real problem - and apparently not in her vocabulary. But in the end, we made it work as best we could for everyone...and hopefully, we kept the roads safer for others.

December 21, 2015, a 90-year-old man over-corrected on the highway just outside our community and crossed the center line, hitting my brother-in-law, Bruce, and his wife head-on.  The man died at the hospital an hour or so later.  Bruce endured four bowel-resection surgeries in 3 days due to internal injuries from his seat belt...and on New Year's Eve, he succumbed to a heart attack and died. This caused all of us to begin to take a hard look at the driving habits of my mother-in-law, who was then 89. 

We talked about the car - and no longer driving...and Grandma E would say, "I want to drive until I am 90."  Greg agreed to this...as long as nothing changed. She rarely drove anywhere...Walmart, the beauty shop, or maybe to church.  Once in awhile, she would venture across town to visit us.  Still, we worried about her reflexes...and how she might react to other drivers.  As the months ticked by and we neared her June birthday, Greg and his older brother began to discuss what to do about her car.

Just as had happened with my cousin and my grandfather, our great-nephew was on the hunt for a good "commuter car" to drive to work each day in Nashville, Tennessee. The 2007 Ford Fusion that Grandma E was driving had right at 15,000 miles and looked like brand new.  Her sons began to suggest that Grandma E give the car to her grandson.  And she agreed to do this. 

I will tell you, the day that our great-nephew and his family drove away from Grandma E's in the little white car was bittersweet.  I knew it signaled a shift in the family dynamic...and a dependency upon us for her trips - to anywhere! But we have managed pretty well, so far.  The biggest issue we have had is getting Grandma to remember to plan ahead...and on some levels, that's just not gonna happen!  So when I picked her up one morning last week to go to our Aquatic Center for a swim, she said, "I've called in a prescription refill at the pharmacy, and it will be ready later today."  Luckily, it was ready by the time we finished our swim, and we were able to stop and pick it up on the way home.

Other times, she has forgotten to tell us ahead of time about an appointment - or she hasn't remembered that she is running low on milk and other staples.  So Greg has had to adjust his schedule to accommodate an extra "run" to the store - or to her house to pick her up or deliver her somewhere.  But the payoff is that we know that she is not driving herself.

We recently got rid of the last two "5-way harness" car safety seats that we had for Nathan and Zola and promoted them to high-back booster seats like their brother, Timothy, uses. These seats utilize the car's seat belt to strap the child in securely, and we are still teaching "the littles" to fasten their own latches.  But once that is accomplished, the wrestling of those straps from the other car seats will be a distant memory in the rear-view mirror!  These seats should serve the children for the rest of the time they need a child safety seat...so switching them out was monumental in our world!

And yes, some days, we have to do some strategic planning...who needs to be delivered where - and when - and where we will all sit. Right now, our Chevy Tahoe has ample seating for us, Grandma E, and the three children - with a little room to spare.  And thankfully, Grandma E is able to pull herself up into vehicle...something my Mam-ma Polly was always able to do, also.  Otherwise, we would have had another adjustment to make!

I share all of this to say that getting everyone safely from Point A to Point B can be a challenge.  And getting your seniors to stop driving when it's time may be one of the biggest issues you will face in managing their care.  There is a lot to consider as you make this change.  I know people in their 90s who are still driving and doing a fairly good job of it...and I know people in their 70s (like my maternal grandparents) who were already past the time when they could safely maneuver a motor vehicle.  

Each person and situation is different. I know more than one caregiver or guardian who has hidden his/her parent's car keys. I know children who have called the local police and BEGGED them to "make Mom or Dad quit driving"  - and they cannot do this.  Unless your loved one is involved in an accident or fails a driving test, the police are powerless to say, "You have to stop driving" just because this person is advanced in age.  In fact, the police chief in our town called a friend of mine and said, "You need to get your mother to stop driving."  But HE (the police chief) was legally unable to do anything to dissuade her.

You must be prepared for what happens after the car is gone.  My mother-in-law and Mam-ma Polly were both in the habit of running to the store for just one or two items.  So when they needed Jello...or ran out of salt...they hoped in their car and drove to Walmart or a nearby grocery store and got these things.  If they got a hankering for a hamburger at 5:00 p.m., they got in their car and drove to Sonic®, Burger King® or McDonalds® and ordered whatever they pleased.  Your senior will have a major period of adjustment as he/she realizes that the vehicle really is no longer available for these spontaneous trips.

You must also be prepared to do more shuttles, and some serious scheduling may have to take place.  When I was driving my grandmother, it worked best for me to do all of her errands on one day (as much as possible). For us, this was Friday afternoon.  I took her to the beauty shop, and while she was there, I went to the pharmacy and got her medicine and handled any other errands she had on the list.  Most of the time, she gave me her grocery list, and I bought the items while she got her hair done. Then when we got home, I unloaded everything for her and helped her put it away. 

Schedules are good, but there will be unexpected doctor appointments, times that your loved one wants to visit a friend or attend a party or other function, and more.  I could not persuade my grandmother to ride the church bus that would have gladly picked her up and delivered her back to her home.  She said she didn't want to wait - or to be the last one returned home.  Well, somebody has to be first and last!  Thankfully, a fellow church member lived nearby and picked her up most days - and sometimes my mother and her husband were in town and were able to take Mam-ma to church.  But my point is that there will be some necessary schedule adjustments for your loved one - AND for YOU!

The other thing you have to figure out is what to do with the car. Sometimes this works out fairly easily...and other times, it's a real bone of contention.  People are attached to their vehicles...and worries that they won't bring a decent price can be a concern for an elderly person, in particular. Some will want to keep the car in the carport or garage with the promise that "I won't drive it."  That is probably not a good idea...and that promise will end up being broken in an "emergency."  I know people who are in an Assisted Living Facility and have a car sitting in the parking lot, just because it makes them feel good to know it's there!  I also know one person whose children disconnected the spark plug, just in case he tried to take off in said vehicle!  My best advice is to figure out a way to get rid of the car - even if you have to be pretty creative in doing so. Remove any and all temptation  - and possibility - for the senior to drive.

In her book, When Heads and Hearts Collide, my mother talks about a conversation she had with my grandmother, in which Grandmother told Mother, "I don't want you to be my Mother!"  Believe me, that was not a role Mother relished.  But just as our parents told us when we could begin to drive - and were most likely heavily involved in helping us acquire our first car - or maybe YOU have done this for your own teenagers...many of us will come to a point where we have to "parent" our parents or grandparents - and help them make some life-changing decisions about driving.

At the end of the day, the goal is to keep our loved ones - and all others on the roadways - safe from an injury...or worse.  There may be some heated discussions and a few tense moments in the journey, but this is generally a necessary challenge that must be addressed.  A fender-bender and dealing with insurance agents, injured parties and more can be a frustrating experience...but a more serious accident could be life-changing.  The question of who is driving the car is an important one to answer...and worth any hassle and heartache on the front end.

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.

"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!