Sorry... No Beds!

(Previous title of this post - "Nursing Home Placement Discrimination", I like the new title better.)

My head has been spinning this last week.

I've been waiting to move my mom out of the facility where she currently lives to one that I had thoroughly checked out.

I did my homework where nursing homes are concerned.  My husband and I have check lists, lists that we used to prioritized our choices for Mom's final living quarters.  It was a grueling process while caring for my mom at home.  

Who knows if I am the reason that mom isn't getting into facilities that we've been waiting for over a year and a half.  Every time I call, I'm told the same thing, "no beds."  Even when I've walked through facilities and saw empty beds, I was still told, "Sorry, no beds."

Last week, one of the facilities that we had been waiting on, set up a site visit to see my mom.  Mom was out with me when the nursing home arrived to "see" her.  Mom's day nurse told me that she gave my mom a good report.  She also told the nurse who arrived that I am very involved with mom's care, that I come and help out every day.  Mom's regular nurses like when I come because they have more time to help other residents.  One would think this was a good thing, family that pitched in, right?

WRONG!

I called the facility after they had "seen" my mom.  The admin person was nasty, her tone changed when she heard it was me and then said, "We don't have an appropriate bed."  

When I had called, I didn't know they had not seen my mother; I would have asked how they had made their decision.  Mom's nurse told me that my mom was out with me when the nurse arrived.

Not sure if I'm being paranoid or if my suspicions are true; nursing homes don't want family snooping around and causing their ratings to go down because of reported violations.

Makes me start to wonder about the damn rating system.  Have nursing facilities figured out how to circumvent the rating system by refusing potential residents who have involved families?  Involved families are encouraged to report neglect and abuse as indicated by signs posted around the home.  How else can it stop if we don't tell someone what we see?

I did think that it's because my mom has LBD and it's a difficult illness to manage.  Even the nursing facility that is supposedly very good with Lewy Bodies Dementia, keeps telling me that mom needs to wait 6 more months.  I've been waiting 6 more months for a year and a half.

Personally, I've come to the conclusion, nursing facilities with higher ratings on paper, may not be the best choice after all.  I can see the loop hole that the "so called good homes" use, discrimination that can not be proven.

No Problem.

I don't want my mom in a home where families are not welcomed.  

Today, I look at my mom's facility with new eyes.  Although the place where my mom lives has it's downfalls, they didn't discriminate against my mom and me.  The facility is willing to work with me to make life better for all the residents.  Albeit slow progress, I do see a light at the end of this long dark Care Giver road that I've been traveling for so many years.

If I had to do the exercise over again, to find a home for mom, I would not have waited as long as I did.  I would have talked to my mom years ago when she was more mentally with it and explain to her that she needed to move in to an assisted living facility.  

I have discovered that it's easier to get someone placed in a facility if they are not crazy with Lewy.  Lewy seems to be a big skull and cross bones, a label that scares the be-jesus out of facilities that know the face of this illness.  

Something has to be done to help Lewy Bodies sufferers and their primary Care Givers.  The system isn't working.  Could I be right?  Are nursing homes secretly discriminating against potential residents because of their illness and or their Care Givers?

Visiting the Nut House

Dr. Clown

It's never easy to visit the Nut House, people screaming and attempting to communicate; sounds that blend together like it's own symphony of insanity.  On the surface, it is down right frightening to enter the Unit where my mom lives.

Why do I go everyday?

Over the hundreds of hours that I have spent at the nursing home since my mom has been admitted, I've gotten to know my mom's friends.  I have a few favorites; they've got personality even in their demented state of mind.

The most rewarding aspect of visiting the Nursing Home is seeing the folks smile.  My mom is usually happy to see me.  Occasionally, she is pissed off and declares her disdain for me.

Recently, I spent the entire day with her, took her out for a drive, bought her a coffee and had a few good laughs. Only later did I get reprimanded for not being with her; she believed she was with my sister Ann.  I can't win with my mom, she redirects her anger meant for my siblings, toward me.

Mom feels better thinking that she's not been abandoned by her children.  I'm glad I can fill the void.  I fill the void for a lot of the residents.  It gives them better days and keeps the Nut House a bit more peaceful.

I love the Nut House, I love all the residents and seeing their smiling faces.  It's easy to make a difference in someone's life.  I am on a mission to teach the world how to embrace a senior.  A little goes a long way in the Nut House!

What Was That Jay?

Mom at Mann's Apple Orchard
September 2011

People love stories; something about hearing a story, true or not, will create a belief.  Story telling has been how we've communicated as a race since the beginning of time.  Everyone has a story, some of us are better at it than others.

I notice when I'm at the nursing home that the residents listen to EVERYTHING that is being said.  It doesn't matter who you are, if you are talking in their home, they will listen.  Eavesdropping is all these folks who live in a home have going on for themselves, it's how they gather information.

Earlier in the week, I was talking to one of my mom's nurses that I like very much.  She is good to my mom.; I appreciate her; I don't tell her enough.  We were chatting at the nurses station before I was leaving.  Mom and a few of her friends were gathered around in a semi-circle, listening.

I was telling a story about one of my adventures with my mom before she became ill.  I noticed some of Mom's friends laughing, they were interested in hearing what I was saying.  Then one of the nurses asked if we had seen the news about the baby who was left in a school van accidentally and died.  All my mom heard was a baby was dead; immediately she began asking questions.  Her friends also began to have a concerned look on their faces, "what happened to the baby?"  Mom asked.

"It's OK.  The baby is with it's mother."  I answered.  Gazing at mom's nurse, raising my eyebrows, I tried to give her a look to tell her to stop talking about the dead baby.  She didn't read my face, she continued talking about the news story.   I abruptly changed the subject.  I worried that the talk of the dead baby would stay with my mom and cause her to go searching for it at a later time.

What I've discovered with seniors is that they all love to eavesdrop.  It seems to be how the folks entertain themselves at the home, listening to folks talking and gathering information that is later filtered through a demented mind.  Rarely is the remembered story true to the original.

Who knows if mom's sleep disturbances are related to what she over hears?  I hear lots of unhappy talk going on.  I'd have a hard time staying positive too if I had to work in a place where I was not respected or valued for a job that I was doing.

Care Giving is one of the hardest jobs on the planet.  

Unwanted behaviors become apparent with my mom when she's heard something unpleasant; often she will hallucinate and search for whatever is on her mind.  Typically, she's looking for a baby that needs help.

Unfortunately, one of the residents cries like a baby and Mom wants to help her.  It's why she frequently goes into the woman's room, she hears her cry and her mother instinct jumps into action.  Mom's entire adult life was devoted to her children and protecting us from harm.  No wonder she is frantic when she hears "the baby" cry.

"Where's the baby?"  

I wonder how the aides and nurses handle the situation when Mom goes in this residents room?  Do they answer her question and tell her the baby is going to be OK, that her mom is coming to help?    All my mom wants to know is that the child is being looked after, once this question is answered she is easily redirected.

If any of my mom's questions go unanswered and she feels bullied or pushed, she will turn into Josie the Super Bitch.  A side of my mom that is miserable for everyone.

My mom needs to feel like she's got control of her life, even if it's perceived control.  A successful caregiver for my mom will go with her questions.  They'll ask her when she is anxious in her seat, "Do you need the toilet?"  If the answer is no, ask her "Well, show me where you are trying to go."  Let her up and allow her to lead.  Ask her what she thinks would be a good way for you to proceed in order to help.  It's pretty easy once you leave logic out of any conversation or communication with my mom, she is demented, she doesn't have the ability to reason very well.

Mom doesn't often remember the initial cause of her upset but she seems to hang on to the emotion; emotions that seem to trigger not so good days and nights.

I wonder... is my mom having upsets because of what she overhears folks talking about around her?

Mom hears my name being spoken and it makes her nervous.  She manages to spit out a few words that tell me she's concerned for my safety.  She's worried that folks are attempting to hurt me.  It could be why she seemed frantic yesterday, wheeling herself in her wheelchair, crashing into people and being difficult.  "NO!" was the only word she could say yesterday, even when she meant YES.

Mom hears well, she knows everyone is upset.  She's a mom and wants folks to be happy.  She is one who always tried to solve everyone's problems.  Hearing folks complain, she searches for a solution; no wonder she's going mad some days.

It's hard to remember that we are in a nursing home with residents who are memory impaired.  It's scary for each of these people, they are in a strange world that no one really understands, not even themselves.

Yesterday, I was talking to one of the resident's daughter.  I was telling her a story about my mom and her brother.   I told her that Al passed in April from the same illness that mom's been diagnosed.  Suddenly, I hear the good Sister calling to me down the hall, "Jay?  Jay?  What was that Jay?  I'm so sorry, did your husband die?"

Sister heard me talking, she was eaves dropping while she waited in the hall to be brought to the activities room.  I explain to her that everything was fine, my husband is alive and well.  "He is not good with housework, that's all."  I offered as an off the wall answer in an attempt to change any potential fixation on death.  I don't know if it worked to change her mind.  She could have already gotten stuck on a disturbing thought that will surface at a later time.

The moral of this blog post... we have to ALL be careful what we say around the residents in nursing homes.  Even though they may not be able to speak, it does not mean that they are all deaf.  The residents hear what we say, every word is heard.

From my experience with my mom, I do know that anything upsetting, like TV news or stories that are unpleasant will morph into a hallucination or a belief.  It will become her reality and then all bets are off for keeping her in a happy place.  The main reason I stopped having my mom watch TV is because it triggers hallucinations and difficult behaviors.

"What was that Jay?"  A question that I will ask anyone who starts speaking words that could frighten my mom and her friends.  A friendly reminder is all it will be.  We all need to be reminded, even me.   The next time I forget and I start dishing out negativity, ask me the question... "What was that Jay?"

United We Stand.... Divided We Fall

I have spent countless hours at mom’s nursing home in an attempt to get my head around the reason for the neglect and abuse that I’ve witnessed.  

Everyday, I observe and document the type of care my mom and her friends receive.  I became extremely pissed off; how dare these people hurt my mom and her friends?

Initially, I was apprehensive to complain.  Dr. Zucker, mom’s Geriatrician, frequently reminded me to be good to the nurses; "they’re overworked," he sympathetically offers.   

Because of Dr. Zucker, I made every effort to visit mom during meal times.  I wanted to make a difference and let the staff know that I am there to help.  It has been exhausting.  I go every day with little time off.  I gave my time away for free; it was unappreciated.  I was not respected.  I felt like an intruder; how dare I question the care mom was receiving?

The day I walked into the nursing home and saw my mom restrained against her will, shirt half off, too small compression socks which had rolled down to her mid-calf and cutting her circulation, causing a weird bulbous vein to form on her ankle; I took my gloves off like a hockey player pissed because he was hit illegally by the opponent.  

Enough is enough!

Watching the staff, I became angry.  I felt as though my good nature was being taken advantage of by the care givers.  “Oh, Sue’s here, we can all go on break together.”  WRONG!  I was left with patients, lots of patients who require lots of care while paid employees cajouled with eachother in their native language.  My confidence diminished.  I began to wonder what goes on when I am not around.  I spent more time at the facility.  I became more stressed out and wondering how to get my mother out of the hell hole I had inadvertently placed her.

No longer was I going to wait for more abuse and neglect to transpire.  I began my new career as a complainer; mom and her friends needed the power of my voice.  

I have a voice and I am not afraid to use it.

Initially, I did put all the blame on the staff.  It’s what all concerned family will do, after all these are the people who have our loved ones in their charge.  However, through the magic of complaining, I discovered something; a fish rots from the head.  

Management doesn’t do much to help solve the problems.  Knee jerk reactions from managers are exasperating the situation.  Do this.  Do that.  Don’t do this.  Don’t do that.  Barking orders is futile.  It’s akin to a conversation between two people who don’t speak the same language.  Talking slower or louder is not an effective method to communicate necessary change.

Nursing facilities need leaders who respect their subordinates.  Mangers need to be willing to get input from everyone, especially the staff who are working in the trenches.  Why not take advantage of  the intelligence these folks have gathered and possess?  It doesn't cost anything to listen.  Listening, from my professional experience is a skill that leads to cost effective solutions to big problems.  Why reinvent the wheel when your staff has lots of wheels to share with you?

Nursing home leaders need to adopt a team work culture; it’s the only way the abuse and neglect will stop.  In my opinion, team work is a step toward stopping the complaints of concerned family and friends.  It's not hard to build teams; people want to do a good job. 

Employees need to feel empowered.  It’s proven that an empowered worker, one who is recognized for their good work, is a better employee.  It feels good to be noticed for a job well done.  It doesn’t need to be in the form of money, although money is always a nice reward for a job well done.  

Respect.  Respect begets respect.  When management respects their employees, employees will naturally begin to have respect for everyone, including themselves.  The care that they provide will naturally improve because their attitudes will be better.

Nursing home care workers are important and need to be honored and valued for what they do every day.  Families need to lighten up a little on the care workers and raise concerns with the Administrators of the home.  There's always a root cause to every problem; from what I've observed, a troubled staff is a by-product of poor management and the desire for increased profits at all costs.

I have witnessed the negative affects of Corporate's desire to increase profits off the backs of frail residents.  It is an autrocity.  Cutting hours and hiring cheap help is demoralizing to the dedicated healthcare professionals who are employed in nursing homes everywhere.  

Nursing home care needs to be consistent.  Changing the Care Giver faces is confusing to the demented mind; familiarity eases the patients stress.  Less stress leads to better management of patient care.  It cuts down on employee burn out; burn out is a sure way to open the door for a potential lawsuit.

Today I wonder, how will I fight this battle alone?  I need a posse.  Will you join my cause?  Will you stand up and speak for those who can’t speak for themselves any longer?  

United we stand.  Divided we Fall.  Together we can all make a difference in each others lives.

Touche!

Mom picking out her peaches... just like old times!

Yesterday, I visited Mom at lunchtime.

My plan was to help her with lunch and then take her to Mann's Apple Orchard; a trip we often took together before she lost her mind.  Familiarity helps her to have better days.  I do all that I can to make her days as "normal" as possible.  Shopping has always been her favorite past-time, especially shopping for food.

I walked into the dining room and Mom was already seated at a table with one of her friends.  Mom had a bib on and was dancing in her seat.  I asked Mom, "Do you need the toilet?"

"YES!  Oh thank you."  Mom answered.  I took her to the restroom and she settled back down in her wheelchair, ready for lunch and then a trip to the farm.

"Stay here Ma, I'll get your tray."  I said to her with enthusiasm.  She was having a good day; she slept through the night in her bed.  She was not left to sit in her wheelchair in the hall all night in front of the nurses station.

I asked an aide for her tray and he told me that my mom now eats over in the area next to the nurses station.  He told me that her tray was there and that's where she is now assigned to eat.

Confused, I wheeled my mom to her new designated area.  An area away from all of her friends; so much for socializing.

The aide assigned to the residents was in the dark room;  it smelled like a toilet.  A strong urine smell that began to turn my stomach, reminisce of the Boston Subway that I rode when I was a kid.  How on Earth are people expected to eat food in an area that smells like pee?  I couldn't sit in the room.  I asked the nurse supervisor where we could sit and have lunch because the room smelled very bad.

Immediately she picked up the phone and paged maintenance.  I told her that it was going to take a lot more than maintenance to clean the area in time for my mom to have lunch in that room.  The carpet needed a steam cleaning or better, remove the carpet all together.

I've seen a resident pull out his wiener and arch a stream of pee all over the floor next to his chair; in the very room that my mom was now assigned to have her meals.

I asked the nurse supervisor, "Where can my mom have lunch?"

She replied, "Well, she can eat downstairs in the main dining room but the elevator is broken.  You could also chose to have lunch in her room."

I was taken aback.  I had no explanation why mom and I were no longer welcomed in the dining room to have meals with her friends.

I picked up mom's tray and went to her room.  Her bed tray was missing.  I asked the aide in the dining room for one and then I told him that the room smelled like urine and it was not a pleasant place for lunch.  He told me that he was sorry, the order came down from the big boss that my mom needs to eat in that other area.  He couldn't look at me when he spoke.

He said, "Well, you can come in and find a place."  Always helpful, this aide is one of the quality folks that the home has employed.

"I better not.  I don't want to get you into trouble.  I'll take my mom to her room and then we'll go out to the farm.  Thank you anyway."  I said to the aide as I pushed the tray table into my mom's room where I was going to serve her lunch.

My feelings were hurt.  I couldn't understand why my mom was being segregated from her friends and forced to eat in an area that smelled like a septic tank.  I feel like this is some sort of retaliation because I'm voicing my concerns to the Ombudsman with the care my mom and her friends are receiving.

Mom went to the farm and enjoyed herself.  She walked around pushing the cart and picking out fruit and vegetables like days gone by when she was feeding her family.  My heart was full of joy for her, another good day, another day where she's still out in the world; one more day where she feels that she has some control over her life.

Mom's friends were happy to see us return, especially one patient who jumped out of her seat to chase me.  She needed to talk to me.  Twice she did this and finally she said, "Please, come here, I need to talk to you!"

Excited while she tried to find her words, she obviously overheard conversations which appeared to involve my mom and me. She pointed to the room that smelled like urine and told me "The maintenance man, he came."  She struggled more to find the right words, whatever she had to say to me was extremely important to her."

"It's OK.  Relax.  Everything is going to be alright.  You are safe."  I offered in hope to ease her mind.  Something that she had overheard completely set her off.  She was not going to stop until she voiced her concern to me.

Next thing I heard her say to me is, "They don't want you here.  They don't want you.  YOU!"  She said to me in disbelief.  "You my dear.  Don't stop, please.  It's good."  On that last word, she reached her hands out and embraced me.

Touche!

Dear Nursing Home Care Workers Everywhere,

Ma and her cat, Savita
June 2011

I am tired.  I am sick hearing you complain, day in and day out.  Whining, bitching, spewing your crap all over the innocent residents of the home where you are working is wrong.  Through your venting, you are bathing demented residents in your vile energy.  No wonder they are all agitated and upset most of the time when you are working in their home.

How would you feel if someone like you came into YOUR home and bitched nonstop about things out of your control?  Would you tolerate people filling your house with negativity?  Why do you do it in my mom's home?

Why do you walk down the halls after all the residents are in bed and talk as though it's 2 in the afternoon?  Really?  No wonder my mom isn't sleeping very well when you are on duty.

Your speaking in your foreign language, hollering down the hall for one of your friends, laughing and joking, is extremely disrespectful; it wakes my mom, it scares her and makes her hallucinate about something that she can not verbalize.  Mom lost her ability to communicate, she can't tell you to shut the hell up anymore.  So, I am telling you... 'SHUT THE HELL UP!'

Please help me to understand why my mom will struggle in her seat, doing the pee-pee or poo-poo dance in her seat, while you ignore her because "she's not your responsibility" or "it's not your job."  Where's the team work?  Where's your respect for each other?  No wonder your work environment is like a living hell on Earth, you are part of the problem.

Look in the mirror, please, see your face and be honest with yourself.  What are you doing to contribute to your own misery?  Why aren't you taking responsibility for your own actions?  Why are you trying to convince yourself that it isn't you, it's THEM?  Why are you listening to the bullshit of others?  Their negativity is contagious, it's easy to get sucked in.  I have a question for you, "how is this benefiting you?"

Does complaining make you feel better?  Maybe while you're talking but when you are on the listening end, it makes you feel worse.  Negative talk spreads like a cancer.  Misery loves company; a phrase that holds volumes of truth.

Why are you wasting a crap load of valuable time bitching.  Time that you could use more effectively helping the residents that you were hired to assist with their daily living.

Why do you disrespect yourself and fall into the complaining pit?

Take control.  Refuse to listen to the complaining.  Hold up your hand and say, "Thanks but no thanks, if you don't have something positive to say, shut the hell up."  Ask the complaining people what they can do to change the situation?  If they can't do anything, they have no reason to bitch.  If you are going to bitch, have a solution and take action to make a change.

Change begins with each of us.  We all have free will, no one can make us do anything, not even listen to their complaints.  It's not hard to change, you just have to make the decision and do it.  First, chose to stop listening to the gossiper, they really have nothing to say.  I doubt their words are based on facts.

So... how do you change?  Begin by changing what you say, it's not hard.

Start everyday expecting greatness.  Jump out of bed and say out loud with enthusiasm, "TODAY WILL BE A GREAT DAY!"  Expect a great day and it will find you.

Please stop and think.  Use your mind, the power to change is within you.   Lots of moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends depend on you every day, please don't let them down because you are choosing to walk with a rain cloud over your head.

Thank you in advance.

A concerned Care Giver.

Create the Change... It All Begins With You!

Throughout my professional career, the TEAM APPROACH has always been front and center to any discussion about increasing productivity and morale without more resources being provided by "Big Pappa Corporation."

The bottom line being most important to any for-profit organization; money is what makes a businesses world go round.  A business is not a person, but for some sick reason elected officials changed the game by giving an unfair advantage to non-carbon entities.  

For what reason?  

Money and power.

Compassion is non-existent in the business world today.  Instead, it's exchanged with fear and people are forced to work longer hours with little respect for their human dignity.  People in the work force, the lucky ones with jobs, are mistreated and beaten down for one thing, profitability.  No wonder nursing homes all seem to have the SAME problem, regardless how much one pays to live under their roof.

How do we get back to basics of caring, where's the compassion? 

People are capable of having compassion, it's what makes us human.  It's born in our hearts and I believe it's what drives people to become nurses and aides in nursing facilities.  We all need compassionate nurses and aides, without these unsung heroes, life would be unbearable for those of us who find ourselves in a long term care facility.

Unfortunately, mixing profit and basic human needs seems to be perverted; each is on the opposite spectrum of life.  Profiting on the backs of the most dependent and helpless is sick and goes against the grain of caring individuals who want to make a difference.  

How can a for profit business expect employees to do more with less if they are not given the tools to get the job done?

No wonder nursing homes are such sad places to visit.  The energy in healthcare facilities is heavy with illness, add to this the sad energy of staff caused by intense demands; dangerous environments spawn.

How can we allow this to happen?

How can we change it?  One person at a time.  Begin with yourself and re-remember why you became a healthcare professional in the first place.  Empower yourself, open your eyes and listen with your heart.

It may sound like a fairy tale, an ideal that is unattainable, but it's not.  It's possible to change, people have the ability to make change.  Change begins with you and you and you.

Teams.  Working as a team, using our collective minds to solve problems, is smart.  It's cost effective and when done right, happy work environments manifest even when the world seems to be falling apart at the seams outside.  The team approach allows all of us to do more with less.  The old cliche, "no man is an island" holds volumes of truth.

Respect eachother.  Roll up your sleeves and work together even if it’s not your job.  Be patient.  Check your baggage at the door and find the joy in your work; there’s always a silver lining even in the most undesirable job.

Caring for seniors who have lost control and are incontinent is a “crappy” job that literally stinks.  It’s not glamorous but it’s something that caring folks do every minute of every day in nursing homes around the globe.  The people that are helped are helpless, unable to do simple daily living activities like wipe their own asses.  

Compassionate care.  I’ve witnessed it.  It’s possible.  Team work.  Working together with egos set aside creates peace among all residents.  The best way to know that your team is working like a well oiled machine is to listen for the silence.  

Raise the bar on yourself.  Challenge yourself to be the best nurse or aide that you can be.  Feel compassion.  Feel good about yourself knowing that you made a difference in someone’s life.  After all, isn't this WHY you chose this career path in the first place?

Smile, laugh and give warm hugs; you will be rewarded with a full heart.  Smiles and laughter are contagious, it’s not difficult, it requires one element… you.  It all begins with you.  

How will you approach your day at your care facility?  It’s up to you to create the change that you wish to become.  Ghandi was right… change begins at the center of your heart.  We all hold the power to have a good day; chose to be positive and make a difference in every life that you encounter.  


I am challenging you, create the change... it all begins with you!

It Made A Difference

Yesterday, my sister visited our mom; it made a difference in Ma's happiness.

Arriving at 6:30 PM to help get mom ready for bed, walk with her and give her a little bit of a homeopathic remedy that helps her sleep, I noticed a different mom.

She was calm.

She ate her dinner.

Her cognition was clear and she was able to talk to me.

I brought a new treat stash for my mom and her friends that brought a big smile to my friend Ruthie's face.  Mom enjoyed the zucchini fritters that I had made special for her.  "Oh, can I have one?"  She asked as I opened the container to show her the contents.

Bob was alert too.  He didn't want any treats, he ate his dinner and was talking up a storm.  Mom and Bob were on the move, ready to get somewhere.  My left hand held Bob's hand and my right hand held my mom's hand as we walked down the hall of the nursing home.

Bob was talking on and on, not making much sense except for every so often I'd understand a name so I'd ask a generic question.  Generic questions are how I converse with Bob and my mom; they work to keep them calm.

Mom had a good day yesterday.

My resident friends told me that my sister visited.  Bob commented how we look alike.  Ruthie told me that my sister's voice fooled her because when she heard it, she started to look for me.  Mom, she was at peace, she saw one of her children that wasn't me.

Thank you for visiting, it made a difference.