Topic: People/Family stories
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First of all, when I say ‘nursing home’, I don’t mean a place with normally aging, but feeble people. I am talking about the alzheimer’s, dementia ward…..the secure, locked down ward. Most of the people there are in the advanced stages of dementia, so it’s kind of crazy and ‘interesting’. The second day I went to visit though, I got to know some of the other residents better, as well as the aids and nurses. I just have to remember that these people are just like my dad….normal people, who lived wonderful lives, but their minds have betrayed them and become diseased. Slowly they become this other person….a stranger really, who comes to take their place in your loved one. You catch glimpses of the real person in there at times, but usually there is a confused, uncooperative, sometimes agitated and aggressive person who masquerades as your dad….
The obsessive, paranoid, sometimes aggressive side won out and we could no longer care for my dad at home. I mentioned this once at an online message board and a few of the responses were quite condescending and clearly unsympathetic toward putting anyone in a nursing home. So I stopped telling people unless they asked or mentioned that they had gone through this themselves. In a way, it is a very private decision, but you feel the need to be understood, for people to know that you’ve done all you could but that it is a desperate situation that there is no other solution for. I don’t feel like I can share some of the most telling details in order to protect my family’s privacy. Some of the things my mom has told me about my dad’s behavior, I simply cannot share. So maybe if you’re tempted to think less of people because of decisions like this, maybe you could put on compassion and look at the individuals involved and not just at the situation of nursing homes in general.
****I just had to put this out there because I want to be understood. And if you cannot understand without having the private, traumatic details, then I can’t help you. I’m not trying to be ugly about this, but from the response I got that one time I shared, I’m just covering the bases in case it’s out there, ready to strike again.**** =)
My sister went with my mom and I to check my dad in on Monday afternoon. We took him to his hallway to talk to a nurse while my mom filled out paperwork. It is a Christian care center and the staff there is really understanding, gentle and compassionate. In the past 3 weeks, my dad’s condition has gone downhill almost with each passing day….his physical condition as well as mentally. So by the time we were ready to check in, he was not having any good days mentally. We think he is stressed out too, because we’ve been trying to prepare him for moving. In his lucid moments, he understood and though he wasn’t excited about it, he knew it was time….he knew his illness is getting way too advanced for my 80 year old mom to handle. We got his things settled into his room. I also put up a picture of my dad and one of my mom in their younger, stronger days, so that the staff there will see who he once was. We sat visiting with him in the general sitting area. The 3 men who are there tend to congregate by the door to the outside area in an alcove with a few tables, the women sit together in the main room chatting at the tables. I would say about 99 percent of them are sweet, content and seem at home there. One or two of them are a little mouthy and complain.
There are a few of the aids that I got to know a little better the 2 days I was there. One of them loves to get the residents singing. She bends down and in a low, slow voice begins, “Swwwinnnnnng looooooow, sweeeeeet chaaaaariot, “ and the residents all start joining in. It was very sweet! Although they are declining in life, they remember the hymns and enjoy singing. She did this several times and then turned off the jazz music that was playing and put on a CD of hymns. Suddenly the blank stares turned to sentimental looks and their mouths began following along with the words….and tears welled up in my eyes and trickled down my cheek. I think my dad will get to that point where he feels at home there and enjoys the moments like that during the day.
When we left, he didn’t argue or ask to go with us. He did keep asking how long he would be there. I could only answer him honestly, “Dad, you live here now. You are too sick for mom to take care of you at home.” And he nods and momentarily understands…yes, he does feel sick….and weak. He is discouraged but is trying to have a good attitude, I can tell. He seems very disoriented when we come to see him, but he gradually…usually after a meal….gets to feeling better and talks. It doesn’t usually make a lot of sense, but he does talk and talk. One day he thought he was there to sing for these people and kept apologizing to them all because he just didn’t think he could do it. He knows who we are, but not at all moments.
Sometimes he struggles between real and imaginary. Two weeks ago, I was visiting him at their home and he was telling me about traveling. It was kind of jumbled up and confused sounding story, but he went on and on telling me that he had had 2 very nice trips recently to China, Japan, Australia. He told me a few details and I wondered if he was delusional. So I tried to distract him and said, “Do you remember the trips you used to take us on?” And before I could mention some of the places, he interrupted and seemed put off with me. He said, “I know, I know…but those were REAL trips. I’m talking about the trips I take in my mind….imaginary trips.”
Dementia is a wild ride. I don’t claim to understand much of it and it is very humiliating and scary to lose your mind…I have seen that first hand with my dad.
I’m sure I’ll give updates from time to time, but I don’t want to grind this into the ground each day. I want to move on now to somewhat of a normal existence again. Having the quiet time to write this out and express some of how things are going will help me to be able to do that…I hope.