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.
22 August 2011
18 August 2011
Do You Need The Toilet?
Anna is one of my friends at the home; she doesn't speak English. Greek is her native tongue; she seems to speak louder and slower hoping that I'll understand what she's saying. How many times have I done the same thing throughout my life, even though I know it doesn't elicit understanding.
Tuesday afternoon when I was visiting my mom, Anna stopped me in the hall. Looking up at me with tired eyes, she grabbed my hand and began to speak in Greek to me. She was anxious as she tried like hell to get me to understand her. I didn't.
Suddenly, it dawned on me.
Holding Anna's hand I said to her, "Ah, I bet my Italian grandmother had the same communication problem. It must have been so frustrating and scary for her."
My mom's mom never spoke English, just like Anna.
I want to talk to Anna. I want to have a conversation with her because she can... only her voice is Greek.
I thought, "How can I talk to her? There's got to be an answer."
Of course! My iPad. If I could find a translation app it could possibly open up Anna's world of jumbled sounds. We'd be able to converse. The Tower of Babble would be torn down between us.
Yesterday, I got an app working on my iPad. I couldn't wait to get to the home to see Anna and try to talk to her. Mom was in a good place after her nap, so I had her sit with Anna and me as I tried to make the idea work.
Reminisce of days gone by when we used to use dial up to connect to the internet, the connection was turtle slow. It made it difficult to keep Anna and Mom's attention while my iPad seemed to spin through the translator.
I followed Anna around with my iPad, determined to speak to her. Mom and I found her and she looked like she needed the toilet. Of course she didn't know what I was asking her no matter how loud or slow I spoke in English.
"Ah, let me see if the translator will work." I said to my mom who had no idea what I was trying to accomplish, she was happy to be with me.
I typed on my iPad, "Do you need the toilet?" and pressed the button. It worked. It spoke the phrase in Greek to Anna.
She looked up and busted out laughing as she put her face in her hands. She laughed hard, finding the humor in the first phrase I got my device to speak. Anna said, "Yes." She laughed more.
I ran to get the aide to help her. It worked. Unfortunately, she already went to the toilet by the time the aide got to her room.
Why doesn't the home use today's technology to communicate with their residents? It's not difficult, it's not expensive. Imagine how much happier folks will be if they can communicate and answer the important questions like, "Do you need the toilet?"
Tuesday afternoon when I was visiting my mom, Anna stopped me in the hall. Looking up at me with tired eyes, she grabbed my hand and began to speak in Greek to me. She was anxious as she tried like hell to get me to understand her. I didn't.
Suddenly, it dawned on me.
Holding Anna's hand I said to her, "Ah, I bet my Italian grandmother had the same communication problem. It must have been so frustrating and scary for her."
My mom's mom never spoke English, just like Anna.
I want to talk to Anna. I want to have a conversation with her because she can... only her voice is Greek.
I thought, "How can I talk to her? There's got to be an answer."
Of course! My iPad. If I could find a translation app it could possibly open up Anna's world of jumbled sounds. We'd be able to converse. The Tower of Babble would be torn down between us.
Yesterday, I got an app working on my iPad. I couldn't wait to get to the home to see Anna and try to talk to her. Mom was in a good place after her nap, so I had her sit with Anna and me as I tried to make the idea work.
Reminisce of days gone by when we used to use dial up to connect to the internet, the connection was turtle slow. It made it difficult to keep Anna and Mom's attention while my iPad seemed to spin through the translator.
I followed Anna around with my iPad, determined to speak to her. Mom and I found her and she looked like she needed the toilet. Of course she didn't know what I was asking her no matter how loud or slow I spoke in English.
"Ah, let me see if the translator will work." I said to my mom who had no idea what I was trying to accomplish, she was happy to be with me.
I typed on my iPad, "Do you need the toilet?" and pressed the button. It worked. It spoke the phrase in Greek to Anna.
She looked up and busted out laughing as she put her face in her hands. She laughed hard, finding the humor in the first phrase I got my device to speak. Anna said, "Yes." She laughed more.
I ran to get the aide to help her. It worked. Unfortunately, she already went to the toilet by the time the aide got to her room.
Why doesn't the home use today's technology to communicate with their residents? It's not difficult, it's not expensive. Imagine how much happier folks will be if they can communicate and answer the important questions like, "Do you need the toilet?"
17 August 2011
Hey, What Time Is The Train Coming?
Every day visiting the home is a new adventure into the unknown; bravely I open the door to the locked dementia unit.
Tuesday, mom was sleepy so I tucked her in bed for a nap. No sense having her sleep in a wheelchair; it didn't look very comfortable for her.
I sat with Bob, the man who worked with my dad 33+ years ago when dad drove airport limousines for a living. Bob was the dispatcher; he liked my dad a lot, they were friends. I remember Bob when I was a kid and I'd pick dad up at the bus station after work. I would wait for Dad to arrive sometimes and Bob would talk to me.
How wild is it that he is in the same facility as my mom?
During my visit with Bob, he spoke about a winning ticket and that he won $42 dollars playing a number. He was excited and talking about his hallucinations; oblivious to everything going on around him.
Sitting across from Bob was a woman resident who was the first person I have seen pleasure herself in a public place. It was shocking the first time I saw her going at it, looking at me as she said, "It feels so good honey."
Yikes! I made a mental note to never smile at her or make eye contact. It was working out well for me until yesterday, I smiled at her while she sat across the table from us. Immediately she began to rub private part as she flicked her pointed tongue at me as though she was ready to give oral sex. It was like the start of a senior porn horror movie, what was next?
"It's comingggggggggggggg honeyyyyy!" She screamed in delight as her pleasure mission finished successfully.
I glanced at Bob. He had no idea that this woman was masturbating in front of him, he was busy telling me about his trip to New York the night before and how he won $42 bucks on a number. He was fixated on his winning hallucination.
Ignoring the woman across from us, doing my best not to make eye contact, she reached her hand toward Bob and said, "I LOVE HIM! I WANT HIM! Come on honeyyyyyyyy. It feels so good." Rocking and bouncing in her chair, she continued to rub herself, anxious for another successful launch.
Bob was oblivious to the amorous advances; his only concern was, "Hey, what time is the train coming?"
Tuesday, mom was sleepy so I tucked her in bed for a nap. No sense having her sleep in a wheelchair; it didn't look very comfortable for her.
I sat with Bob, the man who worked with my dad 33+ years ago when dad drove airport limousines for a living. Bob was the dispatcher; he liked my dad a lot, they were friends. I remember Bob when I was a kid and I'd pick dad up at the bus station after work. I would wait for Dad to arrive sometimes and Bob would talk to me.
How wild is it that he is in the same facility as my mom?
During my visit with Bob, he spoke about a winning ticket and that he won $42 dollars playing a number. He was excited and talking about his hallucinations; oblivious to everything going on around him.
Sitting across from Bob was a woman resident who was the first person I have seen pleasure herself in a public place. It was shocking the first time I saw her going at it, looking at me as she said, "It feels so good honey."
Yikes! I made a mental note to never smile at her or make eye contact. It was working out well for me until yesterday, I smiled at her while she sat across the table from us. Immediately she began to rub private part as she flicked her pointed tongue at me as though she was ready to give oral sex. It was like the start of a senior porn horror movie, what was next?
"It's comingggggggggggggg honeyyyyy!" She screamed in delight as her pleasure mission finished successfully.
I glanced at Bob. He had no idea that this woman was masturbating in front of him, he was busy telling me about his trip to New York the night before and how he won $42 bucks on a number. He was fixated on his winning hallucination.
Ignoring the woman across from us, doing my best not to make eye contact, she reached her hand toward Bob and said, "I LOVE HIM! I WANT HIM! Come on honeyyyyyyyy. It feels so good." Rocking and bouncing in her chair, she continued to rub herself, anxious for another successful launch.
Bob was oblivious to the amorous advances; his only concern was, "Hey, what time is the train coming?"
16 August 2011
We Had A Good Time
Bob. There are a couple of Bob's on the unit where my mom is currently living. They both answer when I walk in the home and say, "HI Bob!"
"Why, hello there!" I am greeted by Bob that seems to have been a resident for quite some time now. I don't know much about Bob except that he is a pleasant old man who gets few visitors.
Sunday, he had a phone call. I saw him sitting outside the nurses station as he held the phone away from his ear.
"Bob. Are you done talking?" I asked as my mom and I walked toward him.
He handed me the phone. I said, "Hello?"
A elderly woman's voice was on the other end, "Hello. I was telling Bob a story."
"Well, he's not listening to your story, he's holding the phone far away from his ear. Let's try again." I offered.
"Bob. Phone's for you." I said as I handed him the phone and put it to his ear.
"Hello? Why, Hello!" He answered the phone like it was a new call. Bob made me smile with this exchange.
There were no activities this past weekend for the residents up in my mom's dementia unit. It made for a pretty boring couple of days for all of them. Ruthie sat in the activities area on Saturday afternoon... I asked, "Ruthie what are you doing?"
"I'm waiting." She answered.
"For what? Activities?" I replied.
"Yes, activities." She said as she nodded her head yes.
"No activities today Ruthie. Let's go make our own and have a walking parade." I said to her with enthusiasm in my voice.
"Walking Parade!" She returned.
Saturday, we had a walking parade. I hold my mom's hand in one hand, the hand of another resident in the other and we walk. Other residents who can propel themselves, follow behind, all of them moving forward in a long train. The scene is akin to the childhood story, "The Pied Piper"; it makes me smile.
Sunday, another boring day for the residents. No activities. Instead, the folks were all lined up in the hall; sitting facing forward against the wall as though they were passengers on a train. No wonder Bob and my mom believe that they are on a train or waiting for the train.
I baked cookies and blueberry muffins on Sunday morning to share with my little friends.
I arrived and mom was doing pretty well. She was struggling with her wheelchair, trying to move forward but having a little difficulty; she was stuck.
"Hi Ma!" I exclaimed when I saw her. "Want to go for a cup of coffee?"
"Where are you?!" She answered back, not seeing me standing in front of her because she was looking down at the floor; legs and arms flailing to help her move.
Mom and I went out for coffee, bringing a few extra cups back with us to share with a couple of her friends.
Ruthie, Anna, mom and me sat around a little bed tray, drank coffee, ate muffins and cookies. We had a nice visit. We laughed and smiled while we drank coffee and enjoyed one of my homemade treats.
Like Ruthie always says to me when she sees me, "We had a good time."
"Why, hello there!" I am greeted by Bob that seems to have been a resident for quite some time now. I don't know much about Bob except that he is a pleasant old man who gets few visitors.
Sunday, he had a phone call. I saw him sitting outside the nurses station as he held the phone away from his ear.
"Bob. Are you done talking?" I asked as my mom and I walked toward him.
He handed me the phone. I said, "Hello?"
A elderly woman's voice was on the other end, "Hello. I was telling Bob a story."
"Well, he's not listening to your story, he's holding the phone far away from his ear. Let's try again." I offered.
"Bob. Phone's for you." I said as I handed him the phone and put it to his ear.
"Hello? Why, Hello!" He answered the phone like it was a new call. Bob made me smile with this exchange.
There were no activities this past weekend for the residents up in my mom's dementia unit. It made for a pretty boring couple of days for all of them. Ruthie sat in the activities area on Saturday afternoon... I asked, "Ruthie what are you doing?"
"I'm waiting." She answered.
"For what? Activities?" I replied.
"Yes, activities." She said as she nodded her head yes.
"No activities today Ruthie. Let's go make our own and have a walking parade." I said to her with enthusiasm in my voice.
"Walking Parade!" She returned.
Saturday, we had a walking parade. I hold my mom's hand in one hand, the hand of another resident in the other and we walk. Other residents who can propel themselves, follow behind, all of them moving forward in a long train. The scene is akin to the childhood story, "The Pied Piper"; it makes me smile.
Sunday, another boring day for the residents. No activities. Instead, the folks were all lined up in the hall; sitting facing forward against the wall as though they were passengers on a train. No wonder Bob and my mom believe that they are on a train or waiting for the train.
I baked cookies and blueberry muffins on Sunday morning to share with my little friends.
I arrived and mom was doing pretty well. She was struggling with her wheelchair, trying to move forward but having a little difficulty; she was stuck.
"Hi Ma!" I exclaimed when I saw her. "Want to go for a cup of coffee?"
"Where are you?!" She answered back, not seeing me standing in front of her because she was looking down at the floor; legs and arms flailing to help her move.
Mom and I went out for coffee, bringing a few extra cups back with us to share with a couple of her friends.
Ruthie, Anna, mom and me sat around a little bed tray, drank coffee, ate muffins and cookies. We had a nice visit. We laughed and smiled while we drank coffee and enjoyed one of my homemade treats.
Like Ruthie always says to me when she sees me, "We had a good time."
15 August 2011
A Gift From The Heart
Ruthie. She's the resident who lives on the same unit as my mom. She never has visitors, ever. Her daughter sends her a card every day; shaky handwriting indicating that her daughter is unable to make the trips to the home to see her mom.
Ruthie was the first resident that I got to know. She would wheel herself over to me and my mom every time I visited; she is now one of my friends. I visit Ruthie every day, we have our alone time and she loves it.
Ruthie talks. I never knew that she spoke until one day, with a big smile on her face, pointing at me, she said, "Ice cream!" I do my best to keep in the freezer, fudge ice cream bars made from coconut milk and agave nectar for my mom and her friends
One day last week, after I had tucked my mom in bed, I visited with Ruthie in the dining room.
"We had a good time." She said to me as she smiled and laughed, reaching out to hold my hand. Earlier in the day, I danced with Ruthie. We had fun. It is awesome to see her laugh and enjoy herself even if she is confined to her wheelchair.
Friday, when the State Surveyor's were in the home doing a review of the nursing facility, I was sitting next to Ruthie and my mom. Ruthie pointed to the State worker and said to me, "Now they are all paying attention." She began to laugh, finding it very funny that the staff was tripping over themselves to help the residents. Help that we never witness during a regular day when no one is watching except resident's family members who visit frequently.
I love Ruthie. I love visiting with her, she always says something to make me laugh.
Another night last week when I visited with Ruthie after tucking my mom into bed, she said to me; "People say I'm crazy." She laughed and twirled her index finger in circles around the temple of her right eye.
"Who says they are not the crazy ones? Aren't we all crazy to someone... who's right?" I replied.
Ruthie busted out laughing. She is not crazy. She just has difficulty speaking and has learned how to make the words she says count.
I visited with Ruthie on Thursday night and before I left she said to me, "I used to be sad all the time... then I met you."
A true gift from the heart, words that filled my being with love. I hugged my little friend. I thanked her for touching my heart and making me laugh. I promised to bring her more cookies and ice cream.
Time to get those cookies in the oven... I need to give Ruthie a gift from the heart.
Ruthie was the first resident that I got to know. She would wheel herself over to me and my mom every time I visited; she is now one of my friends. I visit Ruthie every day, we have our alone time and she loves it.
Ruthie talks. I never knew that she spoke until one day, with a big smile on her face, pointing at me, she said, "Ice cream!" I do my best to keep in the freezer, fudge ice cream bars made from coconut milk and agave nectar for my mom and her friends
One day last week, after I had tucked my mom in bed, I visited with Ruthie in the dining room.
"We had a good time." She said to me as she smiled and laughed, reaching out to hold my hand. Earlier in the day, I danced with Ruthie. We had fun. It is awesome to see her laugh and enjoy herself even if she is confined to her wheelchair.
Friday, when the State Surveyor's were in the home doing a review of the nursing facility, I was sitting next to Ruthie and my mom. Ruthie pointed to the State worker and said to me, "Now they are all paying attention." She began to laugh, finding it very funny that the staff was tripping over themselves to help the residents. Help that we never witness during a regular day when no one is watching except resident's family members who visit frequently.
I love Ruthie. I love visiting with her, she always says something to make me laugh.
Another night last week when I visited with Ruthie after tucking my mom into bed, she said to me; "People say I'm crazy." She laughed and twirled her index finger in circles around the temple of her right eye.
"Who says they are not the crazy ones? Aren't we all crazy to someone... who's right?" I replied.
Ruthie busted out laughing. She is not crazy. She just has difficulty speaking and has learned how to make the words she says count.
I visited with Ruthie on Thursday night and before I left she said to me, "I used to be sad all the time... then I met you."
A true gift from the heart, words that filled my being with love. I hugged my little friend. I thanked her for touching my heart and making me laugh. I promised to bring her more cookies and ice cream.
Time to get those cookies in the oven... I need to give Ruthie a gift from the heart.
14 August 2011
I Pray For My Family
Everyday, I see an 87 year old Greek man sitting outside his wife's bedroom at the facility; she appears to be at the end of her days. She lays in bed, lifeless.
Little prayer book in his hands, the Greek Madonna portrait on the cover; he sits and prays.
He is a sweet old man. Every day he arrives around the same time by "The Ride"; a service provided to seniors by the Massachusetts Transportation Authority. Every day, he sits outside of his wife's bedroom and he prays.
He greets my mom and me as we walk by during our exercise time. In broken English, he tells my mom that she has a nice family. Mom smiles proudly with a shy spoken "Thank you."
I've observed this old man for the last 2 months. He seems to forage for crumbs in the kitchen area. Crackers are always available; he puts them on a bed tray, covered with a napkin as he uses the bed tray as a walker. I never see him eating real food.
Yesterday, I saw him and I asked him if I could share some of my food with him. He said, "YES!" as his eyes filled with tears. "God bless you." He said to me as he kissed my hand.
Today, I brought him a bowl of my Gluten Free American Chop Suey; loaded with ground turkey and fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden. Mom and I walked down the hall to where he was sitting; his eyes filled with tears and once more he blessed me and kissed my hands. "Thank you. God will bless you. Thank you."
"How many children?" He asked me as he pointed to my mom.
"Five." I replied.
"You the only one who come?" He asked in broken English as tears began to stream down his cheek.
I couldn't answer. I didn't want to upset my mom because if I spoke the answer, I would cry. I said my so long for now to my little friend and I took my mom out to the supermarket.
Mom and I got back from our outing and the little Greek man was walking down the hall toward my mom's room. He was pushing the bed tray with the cleaned food container on top.
"Did you taste it? Did you like my food?" I asked.
"Tank you... tank you. Did I taste it? I ate all!" He said to me in broken English. "I give you someting." He handed me my cleaned container with 3 Greek cookies that he had made. I think the cookies were his lunch for the day.
I tried one immediately. "Mmmmmmmmm... delicious. I love Greek cookies; thank you!" I gave my new friend a big hug and a kiss on his cheek.
"God bless you. I pray for you and your mother. I pray for all people here, but I pray for my family last." He continued with a tear soaked face. He took my hand and kissed it while he repeated, "God will bless you."
Forgotten by his children, he is left alone to face the impending demise of his beloved wife. Watching. Waiting. He sits and he prays.
How can we as a society allow this to happen?
Little prayer book in his hands, the Greek Madonna portrait on the cover; he sits and prays.
He is a sweet old man. Every day he arrives around the same time by "The Ride"; a service provided to seniors by the Massachusetts Transportation Authority. Every day, he sits outside of his wife's bedroom and he prays.
He greets my mom and me as we walk by during our exercise time. In broken English, he tells my mom that she has a nice family. Mom smiles proudly with a shy spoken "Thank you."
I've observed this old man for the last 2 months. He seems to forage for crumbs in the kitchen area. Crackers are always available; he puts them on a bed tray, covered with a napkin as he uses the bed tray as a walker. I never see him eating real food.
Yesterday, I saw him and I asked him if I could share some of my food with him. He said, "YES!" as his eyes filled with tears. "God bless you." He said to me as he kissed my hand.
Today, I brought him a bowl of my Gluten Free American Chop Suey; loaded with ground turkey and fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden. Mom and I walked down the hall to where he was sitting; his eyes filled with tears and once more he blessed me and kissed my hands. "Thank you. God will bless you. Thank you."
"How many children?" He asked me as he pointed to my mom.
"Five." I replied.
"You the only one who come?" He asked in broken English as tears began to stream down his cheek.
I couldn't answer. I didn't want to upset my mom because if I spoke the answer, I would cry. I said my so long for now to my little friend and I took my mom out to the supermarket.
Mom and I got back from our outing and the little Greek man was walking down the hall toward my mom's room. He was pushing the bed tray with the cleaned food container on top.
"Did you taste it? Did you like my food?" I asked.
"Tank you... tank you. Did I taste it? I ate all!" He said to me in broken English. "I give you someting." He handed me my cleaned container with 3 Greek cookies that he had made. I think the cookies were his lunch for the day.
I tried one immediately. "Mmmmmmmmm... delicious. I love Greek cookies; thank you!" I gave my new friend a big hug and a kiss on his cheek.
"God bless you. I pray for you and your mother. I pray for all people here, but I pray for my family last." He continued with a tear soaked face. He took my hand and kissed it while he repeated, "God will bless you."
Forgotten by his children, he is left alone to face the impending demise of his beloved wife. Watching. Waiting. He sits and he prays.
How can we as a society allow this to happen?
13 August 2011
A Great Nurse
It's been difficult having my mom in a nursing home. I am ready to have others take over the heavy lifting involved with caring for her. I have been ready since May 27th when she was admitted to the facility. However, her care has been less than stellar; Mom's been abused.
Abuse in nursing homes is real. The atmosphere is prison-like; where seniors who have done no crime except get old are held. It's sickening and frightening.
How can we as a society abandon senior citizens and dump them in nursing homes? Where's the dignity? Where's the respect?
Based on my observations, not all nurses are alike; the special ones have nursing in their heart and soul.
I'm grateful that Mom's got a great nurse, Stephen. He was on a well deserved two week vacation. Boy, was he missed.
The home is always brighter when Stephen is on duty. The home is peaceful. People are quiet. No one screams out in distress; folks in the home are naturally calm. Stephen is compassionate.
Yesterday, Stephen returned and I witnessed something that made my eyes well up with tears; happy tears.
Stephen walked around to EVERY resident and said hello. He spoke with them and greeted all of them individually with a caring touch. "How are you?! How have you been?" He was treating everyone with dignity and respect. In my opinion, this is a sign of a GREAT NURSE.
Last night, because of Stephen, I took the night off. I didn't feel the need to rush to the home to check on my mom and the other residents that I've befriended. I was confident that they were all safe.
At last, a little peace... One of Mom's human angels was watching over her; first time in two weeks I have been able to relax at night and laugh with my husband. Mom... she slept through the night!
Thank you Stephen... in my opinion you are a great nurse and I'm relieved when you are caring for my mom and her friends. I wish all nurses were like you, Norma and Mini.
Abuse in nursing homes is real. The atmosphere is prison-like; where seniors who have done no crime except get old are held. It's sickening and frightening.
How can we as a society abandon senior citizens and dump them in nursing homes? Where's the dignity? Where's the respect?
Based on my observations, not all nurses are alike; the special ones have nursing in their heart and soul.
I'm grateful that Mom's got a great nurse, Stephen. He was on a well deserved two week vacation. Boy, was he missed.
The home is always brighter when Stephen is on duty. The home is peaceful. People are quiet. No one screams out in distress; folks in the home are naturally calm. Stephen is compassionate.
Yesterday, Stephen returned and I witnessed something that made my eyes well up with tears; happy tears.
Stephen walked around to EVERY resident and said hello. He spoke with them and greeted all of them individually with a caring touch. "How are you?! How have you been?" He was treating everyone with dignity and respect. In my opinion, this is a sign of a GREAT NURSE.
Last night, because of Stephen, I took the night off. I didn't feel the need to rush to the home to check on my mom and the other residents that I've befriended. I was confident that they were all safe.
At last, a little peace... One of Mom's human angels was watching over her; first time in two weeks I have been able to relax at night and laugh with my husband. Mom... she slept through the night!
Thank you Stephen... in my opinion you are a great nurse and I'm relieved when you are caring for my mom and her friends. I wish all nurses were like you, Norma and Mini.
08 August 2011
Sweet Moments
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| Mom and her Great Niece during a visit last week |
Last Friday was my birthday. Happy Birthday to me.
I made a batch of gluten free chocolate cupcakes with ingredients that I had in my cupboard; I shared them with the residents at the home.
My mom loved them; so did Harvey. "I want a cupcake!" He would holler from wherever he sat.
I didn't visit her Friday night; too many cocktails at my birthday lunch.
The nurse on duty gave folks cupcakes Friday after dinner. Mom, she sat with the cupcake in front of her as she sang "Happy Birthday to you...." She was singing to me and I missed it!
A sweet moment; a priceless gift from my mom that came from her heart.
03 August 2011
Creating Happier Days Through Time and Love
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| Mom walking unassisted in Whole Foods |
Mom's ankles had been swollen something horrible from sitting too long in a chair and not being allowed to exercise. Moving. Walking. In my opinion, it's the best remedy for edema. I've been vigilant to walk with her in order to help give her the best end of life possible. I am exhausted.
I worry about my mom more while she's in the nursing home than when she was home with me. I am losing sleep again, becoming an insomniac as I lay awake at night wondering if mom is being treated with dignity and not being abused. I worry about all of my little friends in the home.
I am nearly ready to bring my mom back home with me until the bed opens in a home where her Primary Care Physician would be her doctor. I am not happy. I should NOT feel that I need to be at the nursing home every day, twice a day. My confidence has been shot because of incidents that I've witnessed.
What have I done?! How could I have put my mom in danger?
People are dumped in nursing homes; no one really seems to care. Left to be looked after by people who appear robotic with little time to do anything extra like walk with my mom.
Residents with few or no visitors, seem depressed as they cry out the names of those that had abandoned them when they were needed the most. The screaming is ignored as nurses and aides have become desensitized to the crying residents.
It break my heart to witness the sadness. Sadness that could be avoided if their families took even an hour out of their lives once a week to stop in and visit with a cup of coffee or a big hug. How busy can people be that they can't give a little time every week to someone who loves them and misses seeing their face? I need to understand so that I can answer questions when asked. Today, I don't know what to say.
Monday, my mom was doing terrific; she slept through the previous night. Sleep always puts her in a good place.
She walked in to Dr. Barton's office for acupuncture; a session she has every week to help her have better days. Mom walked a lot yesterday. She even pushed the cart at Whole Foods while we shopped for a few items. It was like the sweet days before she was admitted to the nursing home over 2 months ago.
Eyes welling with tears of joy, I pulled out my camera and captured the memory. Mom's not dead. She's doing better than she had been. Visits, hugs, smiles, laughter and time have made a difference to create happier days. It's not hard to put a smile on a residents face, all you need to do is give the gift of time.
Mom shopping, pushing the cart and walking... Acupuncture works!
30 July 2011
Why Visiting Nursing Homes Is Crucial
One thing that I noticed while visiting my mom at the nursing home every day; few people have visitors. It's sad. These folks have been abandoned, put into a holding pen while they wait for their turn with the Grim Reaper.
I noticed something else while visiting; the people in the nursing home are far from dead. I've gotten to know the residents. Those who can ambulate on their own, follow me; I wonder if it's because I always come with ice cream or cookies. Treats put a smile on their faces and gives them something to look forward to every day.
I listen.
Rarely do I understand what the resident is chattering about but I make believe I know. I give general answers. I use expression. A smile or laughter is the sign that the memory challenged individual feels satisfied. Someone listened to them, someone answered their cry; it was easy with the only cost being time.
I love all the residents where my mom is living. I have my favorites; Bob, Ruth, Jean, Mary and Caroline are the tops. Bob worked with my dad, they were work friends. Ruth reminds me of a little girl; she listens to everything and laughs at the right times. Jean is a joy, she loves to jump up and dance. Mary, she is sweet, always telling me not to worry about all of them so much because it will end up killing me. She worries that I'll die and not be able to visit. Carol is my mom's roommate, she doesn't talk much. I give her a little Reiki every day to help ease her pain. She rewards me with a smile or a big "God Bless You!"
Nursing homes are understaffed. I'm learning the hard way what it means to have sufficient care hours for each patient. Care hours is what to look for when searching for a nursing home for someone that you love. I didn't find a home with enough care hours; my biggest regret.
I visit the home twice a day in the morning and in the evening. I walk my mom. I listen to her hallucinations and give her answers. Sometimes on a good day I take her out for a ride to Whole Foods. I wheel her around in her chair, she holds a little basket in her lap for the items that she selects. Shopping makes her happy; greetings by the store employees makes her smile.
Once folks go to a home, it's not the end; they need their families and friends more than ever. Someone needs to watch out for them from the outside. Someone needs to make sure that the individual isn't a victim of abuse. It takes vigilance and it's the main reason why visiting nursing homes is crucial to the health and safety of the people we love.
Have you visited a nursing home lately or are you full of excuses why you can't?
I noticed something else while visiting; the people in the nursing home are far from dead. I've gotten to know the residents. Those who can ambulate on their own, follow me; I wonder if it's because I always come with ice cream or cookies. Treats put a smile on their faces and gives them something to look forward to every day.
I listen.
Rarely do I understand what the resident is chattering about but I make believe I know. I give general answers. I use expression. A smile or laughter is the sign that the memory challenged individual feels satisfied. Someone listened to them, someone answered their cry; it was easy with the only cost being time.
I love all the residents where my mom is living. I have my favorites; Bob, Ruth, Jean, Mary and Caroline are the tops. Bob worked with my dad, they were work friends. Ruth reminds me of a little girl; she listens to everything and laughs at the right times. Jean is a joy, she loves to jump up and dance. Mary, she is sweet, always telling me not to worry about all of them so much because it will end up killing me. She worries that I'll die and not be able to visit. Carol is my mom's roommate, she doesn't talk much. I give her a little Reiki every day to help ease her pain. She rewards me with a smile or a big "God Bless You!"
Nursing homes are understaffed. I'm learning the hard way what it means to have sufficient care hours for each patient. Care hours is what to look for when searching for a nursing home for someone that you love. I didn't find a home with enough care hours; my biggest regret.
I visit the home twice a day in the morning and in the evening. I walk my mom. I listen to her hallucinations and give her answers. Sometimes on a good day I take her out for a ride to Whole Foods. I wheel her around in her chair, she holds a little basket in her lap for the items that she selects. Shopping makes her happy; greetings by the store employees makes her smile.
Once folks go to a home, it's not the end; they need their families and friends more than ever. Someone needs to watch out for them from the outside. Someone needs to make sure that the individual isn't a victim of abuse. It takes vigilance and it's the main reason why visiting nursing homes is crucial to the health and safety of the people we love.
Have you visited a nursing home lately or are you full of excuses why you can't?
15 July 2011
Jay's First Day At Day Care
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| Jay and the Day Program nurse Jay started to enjoy herself with in 5 minutes of entering the building |
I have an awesome Aunt... her name is Jay. Jay has always been a part of our lives. She never married; she spoiled all of her nieces and nephews. Jay was a Care Giver to my Bacci; she was the one who taught me the importance of caring for seniors, especially my mother.
If you talked to Jay before today she would often say, "I'm a lost soul." She was displaced from her home because of black mold. My brother Marty and my favorite Sister-in-law Patricia moved her in to their house to live.
It's been tough for Jay this last year. She's been away from her neighborhood, her church and all things familiar.
Life happens.
Jay's friends are passing and she's found herself with no friends. She was a social butterfly, trapped in a net; until today!
I found an awesome Day Program for Jay to attend not far from her home. Nurses, a staff of people to wait on her and a room full of happy seniors was exactly what Jay needed. Our challenge was convincing her that this was the place for her, not the senior center in town.
On the drive, Jay thought I was taking her to a nursing home. She was peeved off at me. I said, "Jay, give it a chance... I know you are going to LOVE this place that I found for you."
She wouldn't believe me; instead she coped an attitude. One excuse after another she offered; all reasons for her not needing to go.
"Oh, Marty will miss me." Jay said.
"No he won't because you will be home for dinner." I replied.
"Well, the dogs. I can't leave the dogs home all day alone. The dogs will miss me." Jay softly interjected.
"Aw, the dogs will be fine; dogs can't tell time... when you get home they'll be happy to see you... " I shot back an answer, anything to debunk her fear.
Convinced that Jay would love the place I said, "Ok, so when you love the place will you say, Susan, you were right!" I asked.
Clutching her purse she seemed nervous as she agreed to my request.
The unexpected road detour didn't help, all of a sudden the road that the navigation system told me to take had ended. Now what?! Is all I could think to myself.
Turning left and right, this way and that way; I was lost and the trip to the Day Program was taking 3 times longer than expected. Jay was becoming more anxious because it seemed so far away.
"Patricia is wonderful. She's like my sister." Jay began an attempt to change the subject to calm her thoughts.
I agreed. I love Patricia.
Finally, we arrived.
We were greeted by the owner with a warm welcome. Immediately, she put Jay at ease. She showed us around. Jay looked at me with wide eyes and a big smile as she said, "I thought you were taking me to a nursing home!"
Jay met a new friend named Betty a firecracker of a woman about the same age. Immediately they began to chat.
 |
| Jay's new friend... Betty |
"I'm so light headed." Jay said to her new friend.
"I get that way too." She said. "But, what I do is take a little salt in the palm of my hand and lick it and the lightheaded feeling goes away." Betty added.
Before long, Jay was asking for salt to lick out of her hand; she instantly liked her new friend. Jay loves remedies that are simple.
Music to my ears.
09 July 2011
32 Years
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| 1976 Ma and Dad 25th Wedding Anniversary Party |
Today is the 32nd anniversary of my dad's passing; he was 49.
I was 18 going on 19 when one of my childhood nightmares manifested. Dad's illness came on suddenly. The cancer in his body took over and he was dead within 7 months.
Pancreatic cancer was my dad's killer.
Dad was my biggest fan. He encouraged my creativity and listened to my dreams. I was fortunate to have him as my father; he taught me lessons that have carried me through life.
Thanks Dad!
Today, dad is in my thoughts as I wonder what life would have been like for my family and me if he had lived to be an old man.
32 years... it seems like yesterday.
If the spirit of those we love can hear us, I have a message for my dad...
I love you dad! Please help me with Ma.
07 July 2011
Managing Hallucinations
My mom's in a nursing home. She's not sleeping at night. She's hallucinating. She's disagreeable. She's getting lots of skin tears.
Unfortunately, her illness is misunderstood. I am on a mission to help everyone who cares for her to understand how to manage my mom's hallucinations without drugs.
What I've observed is those who listen to her, have the most success with keeping her calm and with fewer hallucinations. Discrediting her and her hallucinations does nothing but agitate her more.
Acknowledging her hallucinations and entering her world, help her to release the thought. Once she's got an answer, she is easily redirected. If she is not given an opportunity to resolve the hallucination or thought, she will obsess on it and become more agitated. Agitation leads to behavior issues and night disturbances.
Following are 4 actions that I have taken with good results.
Listen
Ask simple questions, one at a time. Wait. Let the person talk. Sometimes with my mom she gets so excited that I can only hear every couple of words. I listen for clues.
Agree
I agree with my mom. Even when her hallucinations are off the wall and scaring her, I do an action that shows her that she’s “not crazy.” Agreeing with her seems to allow her to perceive that she has control of her mind when she doesn't.
Control.
Ask the individual, “What do we need to do? How do you think we should solve this problem?”
Taking the cues from the person with the hallucination allows the care giver to make up a story that is believable to the person, giving the patient a sense of control and helps calm them down so they can be redirected.
No way can an LBD patient be redirected if their hallucination isn’t addressed first.
Often, my mom will want to get up and look out the window at a hallucination. Allowing her to lead, answering her questions (even if it's a wild story) is the best way to help her remain calm without the use of any drugs.
Creative Thinking
After listening to the person ramble on about their hallucinations, answer their question. Be creative. Use your imagination and always use the imagery in your stories and actions that the patient described initially. Logic is out the window. Personal experience has taught me that fantasy and far fetched concepts work best.
Use props like a phone not plugged in to call Dream Master.
The original person who used Dream Master concept was brilliant. I found her solution and used it with great success. The woman’s husband was hallucinating one night and got out of bed. His wife said to him, "Why are you up?" The husband said, "I can't sleep in that bed, there's a man in that bed and I'm not gay!"
The wife went into the room and picked up the phone and pretend called "The Dream Master." How I remember the story...
Wife: "Hi Dream Master? (brief pause like she's listening.) Yes, I'm calling to cancel all of Henry's nightmares. (pause.) (excited voice) "OH, YOU CAN! Well that is great. Super. Thank you Dream Master, I'll tell him."
The husband went back to sleep, the hallucination of the man in bed went away.
I used the Dream Master concept on my mom when she began to wake up at 12 and again at 2am. I told her that I called the Dream Master and cancelled all of her nightmares from now on, only happy dreams. My mom, upon hearing the news said, "Oh Good... now I can get some sleep."
Dream Master is the one I call to solve all of her hallucination troubles… it works.
Unfortunately, her illness is misunderstood. I am on a mission to help everyone who cares for her to understand how to manage my mom's hallucinations without drugs.
What I've observed is those who listen to her, have the most success with keeping her calm and with fewer hallucinations. Discrediting her and her hallucinations does nothing but agitate her more.
Acknowledging her hallucinations and entering her world, help her to release the thought. Once she's got an answer, she is easily redirected. If she is not given an opportunity to resolve the hallucination or thought, she will obsess on it and become more agitated. Agitation leads to behavior issues and night disturbances.
Following are 4 actions that I have taken with good results.
- Listen
- Agree
- Control
- Creative thinking
Listen
Ask simple questions, one at a time. Wait. Let the person talk. Sometimes with my mom she gets so excited that I can only hear every couple of words. I listen for clues.
Agree
I agree with my mom. Even when her hallucinations are off the wall and scaring her, I do an action that shows her that she’s “not crazy.” Agreeing with her seems to allow her to perceive that she has control of her mind when she doesn't.
Control.
Ask the individual, “What do we need to do? How do you think we should solve this problem?”
Taking the cues from the person with the hallucination allows the care giver to make up a story that is believable to the person, giving the patient a sense of control and helps calm them down so they can be redirected.
No way can an LBD patient be redirected if their hallucination isn’t addressed first.
Often, my mom will want to get up and look out the window at a hallucination. Allowing her to lead, answering her questions (even if it's a wild story) is the best way to help her remain calm without the use of any drugs.
Creative Thinking
After listening to the person ramble on about their hallucinations, answer their question. Be creative. Use your imagination and always use the imagery in your stories and actions that the patient described initially. Logic is out the window. Personal experience has taught me that fantasy and far fetched concepts work best.
Use props like a phone not plugged in to call Dream Master.
The original person who used Dream Master concept was brilliant. I found her solution and used it with great success. The woman’s husband was hallucinating one night and got out of bed. His wife said to him, "Why are you up?" The husband said, "I can't sleep in that bed, there's a man in that bed and I'm not gay!"
The wife went into the room and picked up the phone and pretend called "The Dream Master." How I remember the story...
Wife: "Hi Dream Master? (brief pause like she's listening.) Yes, I'm calling to cancel all of Henry's nightmares. (pause.) (excited voice) "OH, YOU CAN! Well that is great. Super. Thank you Dream Master, I'll tell him."
The husband went back to sleep, the hallucination of the man in bed went away.
I used the Dream Master concept on my mom when she began to wake up at 12 and again at 2am. I told her that I called the Dream Master and cancelled all of her nightmares from now on, only happy dreams. My mom, upon hearing the news said, "Oh Good... now I can get some sleep."
Dream Master is the one I call to solve all of her hallucination troubles… it works.
03 July 2011
Do You Have the Courage?
Acupuncture seemed to cure my mom's insomnia for 2 nights.
Last night, mom was up all night.
I expected it.
Mom was wild yesterday. Eyes closed, hallucinations as real as life and words strung together that made no sense at all. Lifting her legs, attempting to climb out of any chair that she's belted into; mom reminded me of a very big two year old.
Several of the folks were agitated yesterday. I wonder if emotions are contagious between residents?
"Help me. Please help me." A frail old lady cried to me; reminisce of a haunted house on Halloween. The resident is scary looking and her voice is just as frightening.
"Take me with you. I love you. I love you." The old woman cried as she took my hand and kissed it.
I had to take my mom out for awhile, maybe a ride in the car would help calm her down.
It didn't.
It seemed to make her more agitated.
I took her to Mann Orchard for a cup of coffee; often I'd take her there for a coffee while I shopped for fresh fruit and vegetables. Yesterday, we just had a cup of coffee because I couldn't leave my mom unattended.
The visit to the farm triggered a memory of my sister.
"Where's Donna? I haven't seen her in awhile." Mom asked.
How do I answer?
Mom became more agitated as she said, "Looks like it's just you and me."
Her day began to take a nose dive. She felt my anxiety that I feel when she asks about her other children. Mom can read my emotions, she feels them; I was not helping her have a good day.
I walked away. I cried on the drive home and selfishly wished for my mom's end to come soon.
Visiting mom can range from difficult to extremely rewarding. It takes courage to visit a nursing home; to fearlessly walk into the unknown world of the demented.
I have one question...
Do you have the courage?
02 July 2011
On the Move
Acupuncture worked very well for my mom.
She was a total basket case before her session; hallucinations, unable to stand and words that made no sense.
Mom was not able to get on the table in the doctor's office. She wouldn't lay down. Her treatment was done while she sat in her wheelchair. I held her hands to help keep her from removing the pins.
Mom was calmer. On the drive back to the home, she was tapping her feet and singing along to the music that filled the car.
Mom allowed me to wheel her back inside the nursing home. She lifted her feet, she remembered how!
Mom was able to walk. She walked up and down the hall with me.
She slept through the night. Alleluia!!!!
Yesterday, she was talking and walking. She was on the move. She slept through the night again.
Acupuncture seems to have reset her internal clock, thank God!
She was a total basket case before her session; hallucinations, unable to stand and words that made no sense.
Mom was not able to get on the table in the doctor's office. She wouldn't lay down. Her treatment was done while she sat in her wheelchair. I held her hands to help keep her from removing the pins.
Mom was calmer. On the drive back to the home, she was tapping her feet and singing along to the music that filled the car.
Mom allowed me to wheel her back inside the nursing home. She lifted her feet, she remembered how!
Mom was able to walk. She walked up and down the hall with me.
She slept through the night. Alleluia!!!!
Yesterday, she was talking and walking. She was on the move. She slept through the night again.
Acupuncture seems to have reset her internal clock, thank God!
01 July 2011
Acupuncture... the Insomnia Cure?
 |
| Mom, Nikki and me visiting Ma the day after a sleepless night |
"Where is it? Come on! Come here! Where's the little girl?" Mom has been frantic and confused during the days following her sleepless nights.
Walking is out of the question when she has not had rest. Mom's care givers and I find ourselves in a catch-22 situation; no walking leads to agitation and more sleepless nights. Nocturnal wakefulness causes her more confusion and her state of being is worse than the day before.
It's been a difficult week.
What can we do? A question that consumed my thoughts, unable to think of any thing else, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind.
ACUPUNCTURE! Of course... I set my mom up with an appointment to have acupuncture with Dr. Barton, our favorite Naturopath Doctor and Acupuncturist. He has helped my mom in the past to have better days, why couldn't he help her now?
Yesterday afternoon was mom's appointment with our Naturopath. She was super insane; one minute she was agitated, the next she was in a state of bliss. Getting her into the car was easy; getting her to walk into the doctor's office was nearly impossible. She started out walking well and then suddenly as we were walking up the ramp, she decided it was time to sit.
"No! Not here Ma! Please, stand. A few more steps and you can sit on the bench." I pleaded with her.
My words fell on deaf ears, she decided to sit. I bent my leg, supporting her fanny as I held her up. No one could see us because of where we were on the ramp. What was I going to do? Why didn't I take her wheelchair out of the trunk and use it? Why did I think she could walk 20 feet up a ramp?
Taking a deep breath, I put my arms under my mom's and I lifted her. I carried her up the ramp and into the office; we made it.
Mom couldn't get on the table as she had been able to do in the past. She couldn't lay down flat when I did get her on the table. Her treatment was done while she sat in her wheelchair.
Dr. Barton gave her a one time drink of a homeopathic remedy; something to calm her.
It worked!
On the drive back to the nursing home, mom was settled down. She tapped her foot to the music that played; her favorite Frank Sinatra crooned "I"ve got the world on a string... sitting on a rainbow..."
Pushing her wheelchair, she lifted her feet. She didn't try to put the breaks on, confused with what to do with her feet or where she needed to go. Mom was noticeably more calm.
I called her night nurse this morning; mom slept through the night. She was still sleeping at 6 AM this morning; mom should have a very good day today.
Acupuncture, is it an insomnia cure? If you ask me, YES!
30 June 2011
It's Been Ten Years
 |
| Ed's portrait He wanted to be remembered |
Mom believes that he's still alive. The other day she overheard me telling an old neighbor who works at the home that Ed passed.
"No he isn't!" My mom answered from the other side of the room.
"Oh, that's right... he's here." I answered.
Ed is alive in my mom's mind and my heart. Every day Ed's name comes up in conversation between my mom and me.
"Where's Eddie? He was just here a minute ago." My mom asks when I visit her at the home.
"Oh, he's working with Dad." I find myself answering her.
I miss Ed.
I often wonder how Care Giving for my mom would have been different if Ed didn't die on June 30, 2001. Would Ed have helped me? I like to believe that he would have; Ed believed in family loyalty.
Wherever you are Ed... you will always be alive in my heart.
29 June 2011
Don't Blink!
"Hello Sue? Your mom is off the wall!" The voice on the other end of the phone exclaimed.
"I'll be there as soon as I can." I assured Mom's nurse.
My mom has another UTI. I believe it's because she isn't taking the same probiotic that she had been taking at home; 50 Billion Critical Care with Cystex (Proantinox) is what worked to keep her UTI insanity free.
Mom's not sleeping. She's awake all night and all day. It's like she's stuck in the on position. How long can she last like this without falling over from exhaustion?
She crapped her pants yesterday when I had arrived to see her. My plan was to take her out for a ride. With the poo in her pants, I needed to shift gears and go to Whole Foods without her in tow. No way could I handle her in the supermarket; I was looking for trouble if I took her out.
It's a "crap shoot" with my mom these days; don't blink or you'll miss a good day. I never know how she's going to be when I arrive at the home. One day she's running down the hall; next day she is shitting her pants.
Why?
I believe the underlying cause is she's not eating enough vegetables. Everything that the residents are served for food is white. Where are all the vegetables? Where's the soup with nutritious herbs, spices and vegetables? No wonder the folks are fidgety and anxious. Why don't medical facilities understand food as medicine? Why do the trained professionals not understand simple solutions to solve big health problems?
My new goal? To see if I can influence the nutritionist enough to get her to add more colorful vegetables to the menu.
In the meantime, I will bring my mom more home cooked soups and salad.
28 June 2011
Race to Dance
 |
| Mom, exercising her arms... she did it for about 5 minutes! |
Yesterday, I went to her PT session and we were all amazed. My mom was nearly running down the hall with the walker. She was moving... moving fast.
"Was that Josephine?" A nurse came out of a room when she saw my mom zip by the doorway.
Mom's walking. She's moving. Soon, I look forward to seeing her dancing to her music that streams through the headphones that rest on her ears. Mom is now in a race to dance again; she wants to dance.
27 June 2011
Wild Days and Nights with Lewy and Jo
 |
| Mom's sleep cycles are reversed |
Lately, she has not been sleeping at night. Insomnia has taken hold of her again, leaving her exhausted and in a state of total confusion. We think she may have another UTI, too.
Talking to the air, "Where's Eddie?"
"Come here, come on." She will say as she snaps her fingers, pointing to a corner of the room.
"The little boy. He's over there. See him. Tell him to come here." My mom demanded yesterday when I visited.
Wild with her eyes closed, talking and talking to someone that only she could see in her mind; vivid hallucinations became her reality.
Walking with her yesterday, it was difficult to get her to maneuver her walker. She forgot how to use it. Mom was over tired, she needs to sleep at night.
I am not keen on giving her drugs to knock her out at night; the drugs take her deeper into the between world. She becomes a vegetable; tongue sticking out, slumped in her chair, unable to speak, walk and feed herself. It's hard to see her like this; I insist on no drugs.
Mom's nurse, God love her, thought she'd walk my mom to the toilet yesterday when she saw her fidgeting in her chair. Mom thought the chair was the toilet. She began pulling her pants down as she walked and tried to sit on the chair to poo.
"Oh my God, Sue! How did you do it by yourself?" Georgia the nurse said to me as I walked in yesterday morning to visit my mom. It took two of them to get my mom on the REAL toilet.
I remembered the feeling of stress that I experienced every day over my mom and her poo. A sick pit in my stomach accompanied the flood of memories while my only reply was, "Thank God she's here."
My mom is walking. She is feeding herself. She has good days where she believes that she's WINNING and then she has days where she's looking for my dead brother Ed or trying to poo on a chair.
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