100 Years... and Counting & the Party That Almost Wasn't!

On November 5, 2012, my Mam-ma Polly celebrated her 100th birthday! To mark the occasion, we planned a "small," family-and-just-a-few-friends get-together on Sunday, November 4th, in the parlor at the Assisted Living Facility (ALF). When I say "small" and "family" in the same breath, I am talking upwards of 100 people! I knew that Mam-ma would be overwhelmed, and with her inability to speak more than a few words, having an "open house" for all of her church family and the community at large to come and go would be entirely too much for her. So we invited family, her Sunday school class members, the pastor and her deacon, and one or two others.

Two weeks before Mam-ma's birthday, the stomach bug hit our community with a vengeance. It coursed its way through the ALF... at least twice. As far as I know, Mam-ma only got it once, but my sister, who is a nurse's aide at the ALF, brought it home to the rest of us. Timmy got it at our house, and then my husband and I got sick. In fact, we were still so sick by Halloween that we had to forego inviting trick-or-treaters to our house. So all we have is photos of our little ones in their costumes, provided by my mom and niece. We had enjoyed watching Timmy play in the lion costume I made for him several days earlier... but we didn't get to put treats in his bucket on the actual holiday.

Thinking everything was over, we ordered the birthday cake on Thursday before the party was to be held on Sunday.  On Friday, I visited Mam-ma at the ALF... and the nurses halted me in the parking lot to warn me that "the bug is back!"  They were frantically disinfecting door knobs, hand rails, salt and pepper shakers in the dining room... anything they could think of that residents touched in the course of a day.  We debated what to do about the party.  Mam-ma was gaining momentum... working herself up to a top-level excitement for her big day.  We decided we could not disappoint her.  We had to notify everyone of the circumstances, put out big bottles of hand sanitizer, and try to keep people confined to the parlor near the front entrance of the ALF.

By Sunday, my niece and almost all of Timmy's family was sick again with the bug. My mother was sick with an upper respiratory bug that was also circulating. A few family members and friends opted not to join us and risk catching something. In total, some 45 people braved everything to wish my Mam-ma Polly a Happy 100th Birthday. And Mam-ma outdid herself. My sister and I arrived early and dressed her in one of her nicest suits. She donned her rhinestone earrings, and we applied her face powder and lipstick. We fluffed her gorgeous white hair, and she provided the trademark smile... and she looked like a million bucks - and nowhere near her 100 years of age.

For two hours, friends and family circulated, ate cake and drank coffee, lemonade and soft drinks, and I snapped photographs while greeting the guests. Mam-ma received over 75 birthday cards, both during the party and before and afterward. I have read every single word of each one to her, and she has loved them.

Mam-ma Polly and her best friend, Ruby.

My husband, Greg, Mam-ma Polly, and me.

Mam-ma Polly and her Sunday school friends.

Mam-ma Polly and her deacon, Hal Caid.

Mam-ma Polly with one of our cousins, Carston O'Dwyer.

More cousins... Haley, Grayson, and Jack O'Dwyer with
their dad, Kevin, and Mam-ma Polly.

The day after the party, Mam-ma received flowers, balloons, and more.  The ALF went "all out" to make her feel special.  I anticipated a huge letdown afterward, but so far, she has not done too badly.  I know that she was one tired little lady for several days, and maybe she is still recovering.  Meanwhile, the "bug" seems to have moved on, and all is routine again.  I am splitting my time between caring for my niece and her family and three little ones, and seeing after Mam-ma's needs.  Neither is easy, at times... and I've learned that keeping a three-year-old, 18-month-old, and three-month-old by myself for a few hours makes this great-aunt very tired!

I don't know what lies ahead for Mam-ma.  My sister and I will join her on Tuesday for the ALF Thanksgiving luncheon.  One of her table mates passed away last month... and another is declining rapidly.  And this worries her.  I assured her that the LORD will take care of her ailing friend... and her.  After all, isn't this what she has always told me?

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Barking Dog Never Shuts Up!

I have been so busy lately getting my niece and her family settled that I have not visited Mam-ma Polly often.  But I did spend some time with her one afternoon this week, and she was in her speech therapy session when I arrived.  I sat and watched as the therapist held up objects in a box and asked Mam-ma what they were... a ball, a sock, a comb.  She asked, "What do we use this for?" and Mam-ma would tell her... haltingly, in one-word answers.  This was so familiar to me... an activity I have done countless times as a kindergarten teacher... and more recently with Timothy as he learned to talk.  I was struck instantly by the parallel between two vast age groups who both utilize the same task to exercise speech.

The therapist then read a few common adages to Mam-ma - hoping to elicit the punch line.  "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him ....."  "Blood is thicker than ..."  and others.  Then she read one I had never heard... "A barking dog never..."  The last word is supposed to be "bites," but without missing a step, Mam-ma interjected... "shuts up!"  In other words... "A barking dog never shuts up!"  We all laughed heartily, and the therapist said she was going to add this as an acceptable answer in the future!

Then Mam-ma was given a printed sheet of phrases to read aloud... "I'm hungry"... "I need to go to the bathroom"..."Where have you been?"... "I'm glad to see you" and others.  She read them aloud quite well for someone who can barely speak.  It seems that the disconnect is more in remembering what to say and how to say it than the words themselves.  So the therapist will make a little notebook for her of common phrases that she can point to as she communicates with family members, friends, and the facility staff.  This should help tremendously in her ability to express her thoughts and feelings.  Photos of people who visit her frequently - accompanied by their names - will also be put into this notebook.  I hope this helps.  Time will tell.

 

Meanwhile, I have started the ball rolling to have a little cake and coffee party for Mam-ma the day before her 100th birthday. I've invited family and just a few of her closest friends - and we are at nearly 100 people!  It will be overwhelming for her, but we're rolling with it.  There are still two weeks to go, so anything could happen.  I won't order a cake until the last minute.  Cards are already beginning to come in the mail, and I have promised to read all of them to Mam-ma.

At the same time, my husband and I have embarked on a new endeavor... moving my niece, her husband and three children back to Arkansas.  We purchased a house for them to rent, and we drove to the Dallas area earlier in the month with a U-Haul trailer and gathered them and all of their belongings.  We have been busy getting them settled, searching for jobs for both of them - and daycare for the children - and handling all of the little day-to-day business matters, like taxes, insurance, utilities, address changes, and more.  For two people who never had children, this is totally uncharted territory!  But God placed this on our hearts, and we are trusting Him to work out any "kinks"!  We are so happy to have our "kids" home... and to be able to see the little ones - Timothy (age 3), Zola (17 months) and Nathan (11 weeks) any time we wish! Life is full!

Caring for all three of the little ones at once is daunting... and I am happy to report that there are no pets included in this adventure!  The noise and activity level of three small children is enough... and as my grandmother aptly put it, "a barking dog never shuts up!"  More than ever before, I am learning that every day is different... and that God is faithful to meet our needs.  I hope that you feel His presence in your neck of the woods, as well.

My Sandwich Just Got Bigger!

A lot has happened since my last posts.  Three weeks ago, my husband and I offered to help my niece, her husband, and their three children (ages 3, 16.5 months, and 10 weeks) relocate to our home town.  Living in the Dallas area, this young couple discovered that they needed the support of family members to adequately meet the needs of their recently expanded family.  So in two hectic weeks, we managed to secure housing, furniture and appliances, and make all necessary plans to move the family home.

Last weekend, we rented a U-haul trailer and headed for Texas.  We loaded the trailer early one morning and returned... my niece, her husband and the two youngest babies in one car... us and Timothy in the other.  My mother and sister have filled in the gaps with Mam-ma Polly, along with several friends who have also visited her.  We all have apparently survived... at least so far!

As things unfold and I regain my wits (and get some sleep), I will write more about our experience and how we are all managing.  Friday, I looked in my back seat at the three - yes THREE - car seats and their accompanying passengers, and I thought, "What on earth have we gotten ourselves into?!"  But everyone survived the day unscathed, and I love my niece and her babies more than anything in the world, so we shall tackle this sandwich and forge ahead!  Stay tuned!!!!

How Are YOU Impacted by Eldercare?

A study released in June 2012 by the Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that... "In 2011, 16 percent of the U.S. civilian noninstitutional population age 15 and over were eldercare providers... This and other information about eldercare providers and the time they spent providing care were collected for the first time in the 2011 American Time Use Survey (ATUS). This release also includes the average amount of time per day in 2011 that individuals spent in various activities, such as working, household activities, childcare, and leisure and sports activities."  Click here to read the full report... or go to http://blog.aarp.org/2012/06/28/sally-abrahms-caregiving-stat-collection/ for a great synopsis by AARP contributor Sally Abrahms.

I find these statistics provided by Ms. Abrahms to be particularly interesting...

• 56% of the 39.8 million eldercare providers were women.
• 23% of providers also had one or more kids at home under age 18.
• One out of six people in the U.S., or 16% of the civilian noninstitutional population ages 15+, spent time helping elders, and
• More than 60% of care for an older person came from someone age 45+; one-sixth by a person age 65+.

Please read the full article and see where YOU fit into this picture.  Eldercare is gaining recognition in this country... as it should!  As Ms. Abrahms points out, this will hopefully lead to increased support and lessened burdens for those who find themselves involved in eldercare.  I also am encouraged to see that many of the tasks we caregivers perform for the elderly are finally being recognized as "eldercare," such as providing housekeeping, meals and transportation, shopping, managing daily finances, and offering companionship.  For many years, "caregiving" has been considered by many to include more personal care... help with bathing and matters of personal hygiene, medical care, and physical therapy and assistance.

We had lunch yesterday with some friends we had not seen in a long time, and one of them asked, "What do you do these days?"  I laughed and told her, "We spend a lot of time taking care of others."  If you consider the time we actually spend in the physical presence of our elderly loved ones, it doesn't seem like they keep us all that busy.  But when I stop to consider the hours spent balancing checkbooks and paying bills, or shopping for personal items the ALF doesn't provide for my grandmother (like wet wipes and denture cleanser), it adds up.  I think about the morning I spent sorting clothing to find suitable warm outfits for fall and winter... and the hours I spent mending broken zippers and buttons that had fallen off of garments.  I look at the hours my husband spends mowing, trimming, weeding and fertilizing his mother's yard... or repairing broken appliances, replacing light bulbs, helping her decipher a bill or some financial decision... and even showing her pictures of her great-grandchildren on Facebook.  All of a sudden, there is little question about where the time goes!

While time-consuming and vital to daily living, the more "routine" activities that many of us take for granted, such as meal prep, balancing the checkbook and paying bills, and driving Grandma to the doctor or beauty shop, were not considered to fall under the umbrella of services offered by a bona fide "caregiver."  This is changing, thankfully.  Someone commented to the AARP article, saying he hoped that the government would do more than merely recognize that eldercare is real and vital.  This will take time.  The first step IS recognition - and awareness... and that's what I am trying to do, in part, on this blog.  By giving a voice to eldercare and the Sandwich Generation, we say, "Hey!  We're here, and this is how we are coping."  We can offer each other moral support and helpful suggestions, and we can be available for the next wave of caregivers who will surely join us.

As our population ages, this topic becomes even more important for all of us to consider.  How are you impacted by eldercare... and how might you be affected in the future? 

I Promise I Will See You Again!

The heat and drought of summer finally seem to be ending... and with the first couple of "cool snaps," I realized that Mam-ma's little house dresses were not going to be sufficiently warm for these autumn/winter days. So I decided to sort through all of her clothing that I brought home and see what I could find that would look nice, be warm, and stand up to an afternoon nap in bed. I found enough knits and velour and "sweats" to create outfits for eight days, and I hung the matching pants/tops/jackets together and toted them to the ALF, where I placed them in the closet alongside the house dresses and sweaters. I instructed the aides to use their best judgment, but on cooler days, please dress Mam-ma in pants. I also took warm pajamas for night-time.

Mam-ma has seemed okay, physically, but she has gotten steadily worse with her ability to get any words out. I sat with her on the porch one beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon, and she was clearly restless. She normally loves the porch and being outside, but not this day. I finally gave up after about 30 minutes or more and took her back inside, and an aide put her to bed for a nap.

The next time I visited was probably the following Wednesday. My dad's first cousin had died in Texas, and the family was returning his body to Arkansas for burial. I told Mam-ma that he had passed away... and that he had been in a nursing home for a long time following a stroke, so this was not unexpected. She took it well, I thought.

Friday, I took the warm clothes. As I arrived, Mam-ma was being wheeled to speech therapy. I told the therapist I had work to do in the apartment, and that I would come down and get Mam-ma later. The therapist said, "Give us about an hour." Not long after she and Mam-ma left, some cousins arrived to visit. They had driven in from Texas for the visitation and funeral for the cousin who passed away. I kept them in the apartment for about 30 minutes, and then we went to the therapy room. The therapist told me Mam-ma was very tired ... that she had been falling asleep in the therapy session.

We went back to the apartment, and I positioned Mam-ma to talk with the cousins. I had told them to talk TO her... and she would respond with nods and such... and to talk to each other. After I got Mam-ma settled, I resumed my cleaning and sorting. You could have heard crickets. Nobody said anything. It was awful... and Mam-ma closed her eyes and either went to sleep - or she pretended to be sleeping. The cousins left, and I had an aide put Mam-ma to bed for a nap.

Later, I learned that yet another set of cousins had visited Friday morning (Mam-ma said they had not come). This cousin told me that she and her husband knelt in the floor in front of my grandmother and talked to her about old times... when they went with her and my grandfather and my dad to Indiana to work in the factories... funny things my grandfather used to say. She said Mam-ma smiled a lot - and even laughed a few times. THIS is how you talk to someone who cannot speak! And these cousins visited again on Tuesday before they left to return to their home in Texas. I was so grateful for their visits.

My mom visited Mam-ma a few times in the last 2 weeks, and so did my sister and I, and each time, we felt that her speech was certainly no better - and maybe worse... and that she was frustrated. The Hospice nurse told me that when she visited, Mam-ma cried and cried. Then on Tuesday, my mother-in-law had an "episode" that the doctors feel may have been a TIA. At age 86, with a strong family history of strokes, the ER doc admitted her to the hospital for observation and more tests. I am not sure the floor nurses were glad to see me again, but we were back, and they dealt with it!

So with all that had gone on this week, I had not visited Mam-ma all week... until today. I arrived at her apartment around 1:00 p.m. She was just leaving the dining room with her good friend, Bessie. I asked if she wanted to stay in her wheelchair, get in her recliner, or go to bed. She couldn't tell me. Finally I discerned she wanted in her recliner, and I told her to press her call button for an aide. She did, and she added, "I've got to go to the bathroom." The aide helped her with the bathroom and transferring into her recliner.

I sat on the bed, across from my grandmother's recliner. I tried to think of things to tell her... about a funeral visitation I had just attended for my high school Sunday school teacher... about the delicious muffins I made from a Pinterest recipe. I asked her if the cousins from Texas visited again (I knew they did)... and we talked about how nice it was to see them. Then she pointed her finger at me and tried to speak. She would open her mouth, point her finger, then close her mouth tightly as if she were disgusted, and put her hand down again. This scenario repeated over and again for about 30 minutes. I sat... and sat... and tried to guess. Once she got out "I tell you what..."

Finally, she got out something about "pressuring me..." and "pressuring you..." and I asked, "Someone is pressuring you?" Yes. "Pressuring you for what?" She couldn't tell me. I asked WHO is pressuring you... she couldn't tell me, but there was lots of pointing and trying. I guessed... the cousins? the aides? family members? Hospice? None of those. She was finally able to get out... "don't want to move." I surmised that she had it in her mind that she was going to have to move from the ALF. So I asked questions along this line, and she nodded "yes" - this was the problem.

I reassured her as best I could that I am in charge... and I'm not signing anything for her to move... that if she lives a day or 10 years, she can stay in her apartment. She seemed to be satisfied with my response. We talked about how much the aides love her, and she said something really funny... "Well, don't take this the wrong way... but these girls like me." In other words, "I'm special, and I know it!" That was a huge sentence for her... and very funny.

One day this week I talked with our nephew Timothy, and he begged to come to our house. "Aunt Debbie... I need to come to your house," he would say. "I don't want to stay in Texas." I assured him over and again that very soon, we will see each other again. But I don't know how "soon" this will be... and to a three-year-old, a week is an eternity. It must be the same for 100-year-olds, too, because as I hugged Mam-ma and kissed her "good-bye" today, she started to cry. "I... can't... hardly... stand... it..." she sobbed. I sat back down and looked at her... "You can't hardly stand what?" "I... can't... hardly... stand... it when you leave," she replied.

Now I realize that my grandmother still likes to press my buttons... and she doesn't do this to anyone else who visits... but in that moment, I was right back reassuring Timothy that we will see each other again soon. "I'll be back soon," I explained to her. "I've been gone a lot this week, and I'm so behind at home. I have a lot I need to do there." Again, I was explaining things to her much like I explained to Timmy that he has "work" to do to help his mom with his little sister and brother. Oh, the parallels continue to amaze me!

Granted, the sentences my grandmother uttered today were HUGE in the scheme of things of late... and I'm not sure if speech therapy gets the credit, or if it was a fluke.  I know that there is still incredible frustration there... and few words.  I am studying the Book of James, and one of the passages in recent days dealt with patience... and God's timing.  Today, my lesson was on the power - and importance - of humble, faithful prayer.  I am constantly reminded that I am not truly in control... and that's a good thing.  Meanwhile, I am trusting God's promises... including the one that I will see loved ones again... both on this earth, and in heaven.  And so I pray... and wait... and hope.

One Ringy-Dingy...

When I visited Mam-ma Polly yesterday, I found her cordless phone in the floor behind her night stand.  Honestly, she has not spoken to anyone by phone in months, and it would be virtually impossible for her to do so now.  I have left the phone in her room more for her peace of mind... an assurance that not everything has changed.  But in reality, everything has changed, and the fact that her phone was on the floor behind her night stand told me that Mam-ma doesn't even notice.  Removing the phone will actually give her more space on the night stand for things that do matter now, like her drink cup.

So this morning, I called AT&T and disconnected my grandmother's phone service.  The number that has belonged to my grandparents all of my 55 years, and probably longer, no longer belongs to them.  I have to admit, it was a bittersweet moment.

A speech therapist is working on papers to qualify my grandmother for her assistance... to see if there is anything that can be done to help Mam-ma get out at least a few coherent sentences.  It's worth a shot.  We believe she knows what she wants to say, and LORD knows she certainly tries to talk... but the words just will not come.  Her frustration is clearly evident... and often she simply cries.  Through gritted teeth, she told the Hospice nurse yesterday, "I.am.so.tired."

I don't know what will happen in the next few weeks/months.  I've reserved a room at the ALF for a 100th birthday party for Mam-ma on November 4th (her birthday is actually the 5th, but that's a Monday).  This morning, I sent the requisite application form and photo to Willard Scott, in hopes he will recognize Mam-ma on the TODAY show on her birthday.  While these things have to be done well in advance, I know there is every chance that the birthday celebration will never happen... and that is fine with all of us, because I know that an even bigger and better celebration will be taking place... in Heaven.

For now, I will remove the phone and remind any who might still try to call my grandmother that she can no longer communicate with them in this fashion.  I hope whoever gets this number next enjoys using it as much as she did... and has even half as long a run with it.

The More Things Change...

... the more they stay the same!  This thought "came home to roost" with me recently.  After 251 days, we finally got to see our little nephew Timothy again.  His grandparents went to Texas to visit after Timmy's new baby brother, Nathan, arrived.  They brought Timmy home to visit for a couple of weeks, before we return him to Texas.  We were thrilled to see our little guy - and amazed at how he has grown and what all he can do now.

At the same time, I was struck by the similarities between him and my grandmother.  The only difference is the scale.  Timmy is now potty trained.  He uses a little "Thomas the Train" adaptor seat that perches atop the regular toilet seat - much like the "potty chair" apparatus that sits over Mam-ma's toilet and provides her with a higher perch and arm rails.  Timothy still has trouble understanding a few things - and often there is no reasoning with him... just as it is with Mam-ma.

You can tell Timothy to stop doing something, and in his little 3-year-old mind, it doesn't compute.  You can tell Mam-ma to stop hollering or rattling her bed rails, and she just looks at you with a glazed look, then starts to holler and rattle.  Timmy spits out foods he doesn't like... so does Mam-ma.  Timmy frequently asks "Why?"  Mam-ma does, too... as in, "I don't know WHY I can't walk."

We took Timothy to see Mam-ma... I think it confused her, although she seemed happy to see him.  All she could say was, "I tell you what!" and once she said, "He's so cute."  Finally, Timmy raised his hands as if he were confused and said, "TELL ME what, Mam-ma!" She didn't get it.  I suggested that Greg take Timmy to see the fish tank in the dining room, and he did.  Thankfully he was with me... it would have been a real challenge to manage Timmy and Mam-ma by myself!

In the seventeen days that Timothy visited, I saw even more similarities, as Mam-ma expressed herself in 3-year-old fashion. More than once, when she was upset about something, she began to heave her shoulders and "cry" and sob... with nary a tear... a behavior I had seen from Timothy several times.  I wanted to say, "Use your words," as I do with him... but it didn't seem appropriate.  So instead, I would tell her, "That is not helping.  You need to tell me what is wrong." 

Honestly, I don't feel I have been nearly as patient with my grandmother in recent weeks as I should... and maybe that was due in part to the stress of caring for her AND my nephew.  I think moreso, it's the culmination of weeks and months and years of continual stress and "wrinkles" and challenges.  We are all just a tad weary - and none of us more than my grandmother.

I didn't take Timothy back to visit Mam-ma Polly while he was here.  She never asked about him again, and he did not indicate he wanted to return.  They saw each other, we snapped a photo or two, and we can say we've "been there, done that."  If she wakes up someday and says she wishes she could see him, we can remind her that he did visit.

We have returned Timmy to his family in Texas.  Saying "Good-bye" again was heartbreaking for all of us.  I am hoping and praying that it won't be another 250+ days before we see them again.  Meanwhile, I am regrouping, resting a sore knee that wasn't  up to the rigors of a 32-lb. three-year-old who liked to be cuddled and carried.  I am already focusing on the newest development with my grandmother... a speech therapist who has indicated interest in working on the expressive aphasia. If she is willing to do the paperwork to see if Mam-ma qualifies, I am willing to consider this.

So life continues... with all of its similarities - AND changes...and so do we!