Moving to Residential Care
Brenda: Tuesdays are my day to drive down to visit my parents here at the residential care home. I usually stay all day and spend the night with my son and his family in town before heading back up the coast.
I wish I lived closer and it wasn’t such a major effort to get here, but the staff at the care facility include me as part of the extended “team” in my parents’ care. They try to schedule any case meetings for Tuesdays, and we’re also in touch by phone a lot. They know that I want to take an active role in the decisions that affect my parents’ care. I think it’s important that I stay on top of things.
I’ve been able to place both my father and mother in the same facility. Father is up on the dementia floor. At this point I’m not even sure he knows who I am any more. I’m some woman who badgers him to come out for walks. Oh—and according to him, I’m stealing his money.
My mother has a bed on the main floor. At 84, her brain is still sharp and she’s very aware of the world around her, but her body is deteriorating. With her arthritis, she can no longer walk. Plus she has a heart condition and emphysema. But I wheel her up to have lunch with Dad, and I can tell he likes that.
Tuesdays are the day I schedule their doctor and dentist appointments, buy prescriptions or new reading glasses, borrow talking books from the library, and do all the other chores that always seem to need doing, even with both of them in care. It’s more than the staff can take on.
Darius: Brenda is doing a wonderful job for her parents, and we staff are grateful for the help. I know it’s not easy for her to get down here every week. She’s also had to deal with some difficult behaviour from her father. I remember when he started accusing her of imprisoning him and trying to kill him… well, it’s not uncommon to see those personality changes, but it must be tough on a daughter who has cared for him faithfully all these years.
Brenda: Actually, that behaviour bothered my son more than me. Jules gets in to visit his grandfather about every two weeks, and he hated listening to Dad’s constant criticism and accusations. Jules used to try to defend me, but of course Dad is not rational, so there’s no point in arguing. Then my father’s speech deteriorated to the point where he became almost incoherent. Since then, Jules has found his visits easier!
Somehow, I’ve always been able to see my old Dad, my real Dad, underneath the cloak of dementia. It helps me to treat him with respect and dignity. He was a wonderful man, and I try to remember him like that. Still, sometimes you’ll see me walking along the pathway outside, taking a lot of deep breaths.
Last time Jules visited he brought his young daughters with him, but apparently that didn’t go well. Tonight I’ll make a point of talking to the kids to help them understand why their Great Gramps, who used to be their biggest fan, wouldn’t respond to their efforts to talk to him about their new kitten. They need to be reassured that it’s not their fault, and it’s not his fault either. We’ll brainstorm some other ideas they can try next time.
Darius: We see a lot of difficult family emotions and dynamics here. Adult children feel torn up to see their parents decline, and grieve what they’ve lost. Perhaps they feel guilty that they aren’t spending more time visiting, or they resent the time they do spend. Sometimes they regret not having paid enough attention to their parents in the past, and now it’s too late. It’s hard not to be affected by what your parents say and how they treat you, even if rationally you know that they are in the grip of the disease. It brings up a stew of childhood issues. Sometimes those emotions spill over into our family councils, where we meet to discuss their parents’ care needs.
We try to explain the physiological reasons for the behaviour, and that seems to help. Sometimes spouses and adult children choose to become part of our caregiver support group, where they can let out their emotions in a safe place with others who understand. Even as staff, we sometimes become overwhelmed caring for people with this difficult disease, and we need support mechanisms ourselves.
Brenda: One thing I am so grateful for is the talking and the planning we did before my Dad’s health deteriorated. Dad was adamant that he and Mom shouldn’t be a burden, and that I shouldn’t feel badly about putting them in a home. Knowing that has made this process so much easier for me. He and Mom hoped to stay together, whatever happened, and so I feel like I’ve been able to do what he most wanted by having them in the same facility. That brings me some peace of mind. I’ve heard horror stories from other caregivers who are now dealing with legal and financial matters that should have been sorted out long ago. Thanks, Dad, for your foresight and love!
Sometimes I worry about what life has in store for me as I get older. I know that there’s no reason I will end up like my father. Genes are a factor, but they don’t determine whether someone will get dementia. Just the same, I watch myself for signs. I guess that’s to be expected.
I do pay attention to the new research that says you can lessen your likelihood of getting dementia, or at least delay the onset, by keeping yourself healthy and keeping your brain active. I eat good food and enjoy Tai Chi and playing bridge. I adore my grandchildren and spend as much time as I can with them. I grow roses, and I take time to smell them.