Adjusting to major changes |
Altered Lives A week after my parents had been admitted to the nursing home, I returned to personally check on how they were doing. I had made several phone calls during the week to speak to the nurses and the social worker, both asking and answering questions. I knew my parents would be needing a lot of emotional support, and frequent visits from family would help them greatly. Daddy was always appreciative of little "surprises" so I stopped to buy him a pretty little flowering plant to brighten up the room they shared. I also stocked up on some goodies for my dad especially, as he was always one to munch on cookies or savor a piece of hard candy. As I walked into the room, I could see my parents' faces brighten. Daddy was actually eating better here than he had while living at home because the nursing home schedule called for three meals a day. A week of good nutrition had done wonders for him. He was very alert and oriented. Mom, however, while putting on a smile for me, was quite restless. She wanted to go home and could not understand just how limited the stroke had left her. Now she could only walk with assistance, and this had already created some problems for her. All the nursing home beds were equipped with a call button. Unfortunately, the wall-mounted buzzer which sounded every time a call button was pushed from any room on the floor, was just outside the room Mom and Dad shared. While sleeping one night, Mom heard the loud, intrusive noise, and thinking it to be a ringing telephone, she got out of bed, promptly falling on the floor. My heart ached for my mother. I knew her loss of independence was the ultimate "slap in the face". Weakness was something she never tolerated. She was the strongest person I have ever known. Throughout my entire childhood, I only saw her cry one time...when her beloved dog, Bruno, died of cancer at a very young age. So, I spent time just "being there" for her. I filled her in on the latest happenings in the family, reassuring her I had everything under control. Because her speech was so limited, I could see the frustration and agitation rise within her. Almost without thought, I gave her one of the little talks I had heard come from her mouth so many times in the past. "This is not a good situation, but we have to make the best of it. I'm here for you and we'll just take this one day at a time." Thankfully, that seemed to help her refocus and I could sense that spirit of determination renew itself within her. By the time I left that day, I was emotionally drained. It is never easy to see your loved ones physically and mentally challenged. I wished it were in my power to make everything better, but I knew this day was just one of many trials to come. Guardianship December 19, 1997. This was the day both my parents were to be declared "incompetent" and I would be named their legal guardian. I was waiting in the small alcove just outside the courtroom when the social worker from the nursing home arrived with my parents. Daddy was cordial and chatted with everyone. Mom also appeared to be in good spirits. She'd had her hair washed and styled and "looking good" did a lot to make her feel better. Among those in attendance for the brief hearing was none other than the county social worker who had previously refused to be of any help with my father. Seeing my obvious confusion as to why she was there, my attorney explained to me that once a person is declared incompetent, the involvement of social services becomes mandatory. The judge was informed of their health status, and he asked me if I was willing to officially become their legal guardian. Then he declared that they should both continue their residence in the nursing home since no other fitting arrangements were available at the time. The hearing was very routine and over in the space of ten minutes. At that point, I was content to have my parents stay where they were safe and being cared for. The main thing that changed immediately upon the declaration of their incompetence was that my dad's placement in the nursing home was no longer up to his discretion. While he had signed himself in voluntarily, the court now required him to stay there! Getting Focused After the hearing, I made numerous phone calls to home health agencies. My first desire was to see Mom and Dad back in their home with what would likely be 24-hour, round-the-clock care. While Daddy didn't need that much supervision, I knew someone would have to be there for Mom since she couldn't navigate on her own. Needless to say, I was shocked to learn that home care could be so expensive. I had been hoping to find a reliable caregiver on a live-in basis for perhaps $3,000 a month. The social worker, however, informed me that would be risky because no agency would govern a live-in. To go the route of a home health agency, which would insure quality care and continual supervision, the cost would easily add up to a staggering $9,000 a month! Keeping them in the nursing home permanently was not something I could live with, but for the moment I realized that not only did their care at the facility cost less than home care, they also had an opportunity to participate in activies. On more than one visit, I would find Mom or Dad in the dayroom doing crafts, or enjoying the music of a polka band that had come to entertain. These things meant a lot to me because I needed to see them participating. While it certainly wasn't ideal, I saw it as a good, temporary safe place for them to be. As it was now clear that remaining in their own home was not a viable option, I had their house appraised. It would have to be sold. I contacted several real estate agents and found one who impressed me. She was a perky, energetic little lady by the name of Sandy, who I felt would market the property aggressively. When she came to inspect the property, we talked at length about what repairs and updates would need to be made prior to listing the property. My parents had lived there for fifteen years and the house had suffered some neglect after Dad's stroke and Mom's knee replacement. The 2600-square foot house would need to be cleaned from top to bottom. I gave some thought to hiring a cleaning service, but changed my mind when I realized it was me who would have to go through every inch of the house to sort between keep, throw and sell. This was such a massive project it took four long months of spending every weekend there, for my son and I to ready the house for sale. Celebrating Christmas Mom and Dad had been in the nursing home nearly a month when that first Christmas rolled around. I wanted to make it particularly special because this holiday had always meant so much to them. Daddy had always grandly decorated both the inside and outside of the house. I felt sad that this year it had to be so different. My husband Bill and I bought way more for them than we usually did, trying to compensate for their not being at home. Arriving at the nursing home, we merrily entered their room carrying two huge bags containing wrapped gifts for Dad and Mom. "Oh my goodness," Dad exclaimed. Mom responded with a quiet look of surprise, her eyes wide at the sight. It was a joyous hour long present-fest, with first Dad, then Mom, opening a present. When it was all over, we had a mountain of discarded paper but it was truly a joyous time. They had given so much to me over the years and it pleased me to finally see them completely on the receiving end of things. While Daddy had always been very warm and affectionate, Mom had never been one to demonstrate her love. I always knew beyond any doubt that she loved me, but hugs were a rare occurrence and our love was never vocalized. That Christmas things changed, however. Mom had never been so vulnerable before and even though it admittedly felt awkward, I readily hugged her and told her I loved her. She made it clear she loved me too as she hugged me back. From that day on, I would never visit without both showing and telling her how much I cared. Yes, there was much sadness to deal with, but I will always treasure how that first Christmas after Mom's stroke paved the way for our love to surface and be recognized. . |