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On My Mind - November 1996
Nov. 1/96
Our meeting was set for 4:00 pm at the hospital; by my watch we arrived at 3:55. When we got onto the floor, Debbie looked up at the nursing station clock and said:"Looks like they forgot to change the clock"...it said 3:00 pm. Wrong...I had forgotten to change my watch...so we decided to go back to the house. On the way out we met our social worker who had given us the forms etc. we needed for PCS (the placement service). She was not going to be able to make the meeting; the minute she saw us, however, she hustled us into the corner and explained that the hospital had a transition floor which keeps seniors until they can be placed in an appropriate facility. Apparently this floor has all the help and therapists required by dad; he will get more specialized care than on the acute care floor where he is at present. So we had one more part of our plan for dad in place.
Everyone assembled in a meeting room on dad's floor at 4:00 pm...the doctor, his resident, a nurse and the family... five kids. I ran the meeting and opened it by asking all the health related questions we had...medication issues, equipment considerations, nursing requirements etc. I also made sure that my father would never be given any of the sedatives that almost killed him, but we had to address the agitation and violence issues, the reasons he was given the sedatives in the first place. The nurse asked if we were against physical restraints (they had already been used); we had agreed as a family that if dad had to wear a special shirt that allowed him to be restrained for his own safety, that we would prefer this to any medication. The other thing we agreed was that we would hire a companion who would stay with dad at night when I couldn't to help ease the "sundowning effect". (Some nights he gets so agitated that he does not recognize any of us and just keeps pushing us away, yelling and clawing at his clothes and sheets).
We then proposed our plan, that dad be placed on the transition floor until a place could be found for him permanently. To our amazement, they agreed immediately; we thought they would give us trouble about keeping dad in the hospital. We have our reasons for believing why they agreed to the plan...they know we know about the effect of the sedatives on dad; we suspect they also want to keep an eye on him for a while longer. Of course we asked for their prognosis for dad, but got the usual "Everyone is different...he could live for another 3-5 years or for another month. Another stroke, heart attack or just old age could strike at any time." They could not offer any new insights into his dementia...we know it will gradually get worse. The stroke and hospital expereince have undoubtedly set him back; only time will tell how far.
The past ten days have been an emotional rollercoaster...I feel drained and tired. After the meeting with the doctors, we assembled at the family home where we all sat down together for a meal for the first time in 10 years since my mother died. It was emotional to say the least...I know my father was hard on us and that each of us has a different perception of him which is now colouring how we feel; I am trying my best to accept my sisters' and brother's limitations on what they can and will do in this situation due to emotions and geography, but the one thing we did agree on (at least my sisters and I did) was that we must support each other more; that regardless of all else, we are a family with or without our father.
I know I have neglected Caregiver Network and this Web site but will hopefully be able to once again turn more of my attention to both. I have learned a lot more about "the system" and will bring this information to other caregivers through this site, our Caregiver Seminars and our new Caregiver Club newsletter. Over and out
Nov. 14/96
Even though dad was in a retirement home before this stroke, the 'nursing home' decision is still tough. We considered trying to put him back in his own home, but he requires too much care now and the house is completely inappropriate for a wheelchair. But even though all the reasons stare me in the face, I know I'll forever do battle with htis decision. A small book was given to me by one of the nursing homes called "When Love Gets Tough" by Doug Manning (see Publications/Resources). I picked it up the other night and found it a source of comfort. He says: "Love is doing what people need - not just what they want. In spite of what she wanted or what we wanted, we decided to place her (mother-in-law) in a nursing home. A nursing home could provide what we could not. Such things as round-the-clock nurses on duty, bath facilities designed for her, social contact with people with similar interests and activities designed for people of her age and her condition would be provided for her."
I helped move him last Friday...he is in a semi-private with little space for his things. The floor has a lounge with a TV and lots of activity. I have taken him down to the cafeteria (quite lovely for a hospital) where he has enjoyed coffee and a muffin. I promised to take him to dinner there. At least on this floor he lives a less "hospital-like" life; he wears his own clothing and spends most of his time in the wheelchair...he can push himself along with his feet. They do not believe in restraints (thank God) but he also seems more settled. He has fallen a few times; they admitted they had to keep a closer eye on him...will this be done when everyone is so busy?
I got a copy of his medical evaluation; he requires heavy care and is not a candidate for rehabilitation. In spite of this, I am constantly bugging them to make sure he is seen by all the available therapists and that he does get as much physio as I can make them supply.
However, things seem destined never to run smoothly. I went to see him yesterday and he was acting strangely. He whispered to me that we shouldn't talk too loudly and that we must plan our escape...he wanted out. I had promised to take him outside for some fresh air so I thought this would take his mind off escaping. WRONG. The minute we got outside he demanded to be taken to the family home...not too far from the hospital...and when I told him we couln't do that...house locked up for the winter etc. etc. etc.; he was inconsolable. I tried to distract him but when he asked if I was taking him back and I answered yes, he began howling and wouldn't stop. How could I do this to him, how could I hate him so much when he loved me...it all came out, on and on. When we finally got back to his room, he wouldn't let me take his coat off and started to add beligerence to the mix. I went and got help, a third party to calm him down. Again, nothing worked. I was the cruelest daughter in the world....he grabbed my wrist and really gave it to me, something he has never done before. I finally couldn't take it any more and told the nurse I was leaving. My presence wasn't doing either of us any good. I called later to see how he was; he finally calmed down and they distracted him with another activity. I hope to God it was just a bad day and not behavior that I have to deal with constantly. The moves for him aren't over yet; how much more can he deal with? How much can I deal with?
Nov. 15/96
Meanwhile I called a home care consultant/friend who told me quite bluntly that dad belongs in a chronic care hospital, not a long term care facility. I had tried to get information on these hospitals but could never get my questions answered. So the task for the coming week is to set up some tours and make some more decisions.
Picked Jim up...dad recognized him after a few minutes and held his hand before he became restless and inattentive. I was so pleased for both of them that they finally saw each other...perhaps for the last time.
Nov. 18/96
Nov. 19/96
There is one gentleman on the floor named Douglas who is terrific; helps the other patients with meals and small chores. He was due to leave today, which I think will be a loss for my dad. There are so few men around!
Nov. 22/96
Nov. 26/96
I then called to dad who was shuffling his wheelchair across the floor to the lounge and asked him if he'd like a shave. He asked if I was staying for dinner and when I said I couldn't, he got very angry. I brought him into his room to shave him and he stated quite clearly that he was going to commit suicide...that he couldn't stand the lonliness any more and he was going to commit suicide. I just sat there with the razor (electric) in my hand, somewhat stunned. I was at a loss for words so just started the shaver and got going. After I had finished I suggested we go to the cafeteria for coffee before I left and off we went...thoughts of suicide behind us.
Nov. 28/96
I had a very interesting meeting with Tom Koch, a writer, researcher and author of books on elder care (see publications/resources). He was a caregiver for his father and understood my emotions and concerns. One thing he said really stuck in my mind: "When you see your father shuffling across the floor in his wheelchair...don't consider this as something sad and hopeless, but rather as a victory. Your father has endured a world war, a stock market crash (he was a stockbroker), a depression, the raising of 5 childrem, the death of his wife, 2 strokes, a broken hip...he has survived and continues to survive, even if in his own world."
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