It Depends

A good day at the Alzheimer's unit depends on many factors. It can depend on which CNA is on duty. It can depend on how cold the building is. It can depend on the activity of the day. It can depend on properly functioning bowels. It can depend on Depend incontinence underwear.



My sister, C, and I take turns visiting our mother every day. She also pays mom's bills, balances the checkbook, sends out birthday cards for mom (making sure mom signs the cards...but no longer the gift checks as her handwriting is illegible), and replenishes her personal supplies which she buys at a Costco discount. Looking at this list of chores, I realize she does much more than her fair share. I have offered to do the checkbook and bills but I think Sis knows I've never been very good at math and probably would just as soon do it herself. Anyway, the whole family is very appreciative of all she does for mom.


Back when mom was in rehab for her broken hip, one of the nurses suggested we keep a journal of our time spent with mom. It was an excellent method of recording what various doctors or nurses did or said. It eliminated the lack of communication between the various nursing shifts and whichever sister was there. This proved so successful we continue the practice today. While some days there isn't a minute to sit and write anything down, mostly it works quite well. A few days ago, Sis didn't have time to write in our log so she e-mailed me the following review of her most interesting visit:



"Today, Kay was walking around the living room with a wadded-up Depend leaving a trail of cotton-like snowflakes on the floor. She kept saying she had to get rid of it. She kept massaging it and pulling it apart. She passed it around to all the other women. Gigi leaned precariously out of her chair to pick up the white fluffy pieces. Kay went around picking up the fluff off the floor, too. The dinner cart came in and when it was unloaded, Kay asked the man to help her get rid of the Depend. Now it was opened up and you could see the poop. She placed it on the food cart! Wow. He got some paper towels and corralled the flying offending mess. Finally, the caregiver took her to the bathroom to fix her up. Meanwhile, all the other ladies were scurrying around gathering up the pieces scattered around the living room. The food guy walked by me with the cart on his way out and I said, "Some heavy duty disinfecting is going to have to happen on that cart." Gigi kept trying to get out of the chair and asking me to help. I told her to wait for a caregiver. Edith tried to help her and I thought the two of them were going to crash. I kept telling them they were going to get hurt. The second care associate appeared on the scene and I told her to help Gigi get up. Then I see Gigi leading Marie around by the hands. Marie looked very unsteady. I looked for her walker and saw Kay with it. I said, "Isn't that Marie's?" I gave it back to Marie and helped her to work the handles. She was very happy. Mom's hair looked very nice. We went outside before dinner for some Vitamin D in the sunshine. She was a little worried about things and it was hard to figure out what she was worrying about. I did my best to guess and assure her. She did say she was not happy and wanted peace. So, that is what I pray for her, peace."


Now, three days later, there is a stomach virus going around the second floor where mom lives. My sister and I think perhaps it could be e-coli from Kay's errant Depend. A good day at the Alzheimer's unit? It depends.