Why we Visit mom Daily

I left the New Jersey shore and returned to Florida for 10 days to give my sister a small break from tending to mom. People sometimes question why we go to visit mom every day when her needs are taken care of in the assisted living facility. My daily visits reinforced the need to check in on mom.

My first day there mom was delighted to see me and we had a good visit in the afternoon. I stayed during dinner and then suggested to the aide that mom needed to visit the bathroom. Unfortunately, the toilet was clogged with disposable but not flush-able wipes. As they were unable to remove the clog, they put mom in bed and assisted with her BM in the bed. She was most unhappy and said, "I'm too old for this." It was not a pretty sight and very stressful for me to witness but especially for mom to endure. The aides were sweet and comforting but the whole ordeal was not necessary. The earlier shift had made a big mistake by clogging the toilet and leaving it that way and mom had to pay the price.

The next day I was rooting around her medicine cabinet and organizing things when I spotted a small cup of something with mold on top and a small spoon inserted in it. When I mentioned this to Carmen, she immediately came to the room and looked at the cup. She was outraged, took the cup to the other building where the administrator, Lisa, was and reported the incident. Apparently, an aide had crushed mom's medicines in the pudding, became distracted and put the cup in the cabinet planning to give the meds at a later time. Of course, later never came and she didn't get her medicines that day. Since mold takes a few days to develop it wasn't clear which shift of aides had made the mistake and nobody would own up to doing it that many days later. Shortly thereafter, Lisa, the administrator, and Claudine, the nurse, located me to express their dismay and embarrassment. They said a meeting would be held and the problem discussed so it wouldn't happen again. I took that opportunity to tell them of the clogged toilet episode, that mom's teeth needed to be brushed more often, that I feared they were not toileting her often enough, and that she had another skin tear on her elbow. Then I remembered my sister's fears that if we complained too much that they would throw mom out as mom is becoming more difficult to transfer from the wheelchair. I said this to Lisa and she said, "We would never throw your mother out. Your complaints are legitimate and we need to know these things. Your imput is very important and we want you to report all of your concerns."

Later in the week I encountered the physical therapist who said she had given mom six sessions of therapy so far. She said she had to recommend that it be discontinued as mom wasn't showing any improvement. Like a mama bear with it's cub I immediately went into protection mode. I mentioned that she hadn't really moved her limbs for almost a year and that it would be ridiculous to think she would show improvement in just six sessions. She was compassionate but maintained that the rules of medicare are that mom has to improve for them to continue. She also said that since mom is on hospice, she wasn't sure that physical therapy was indicated at all. She took mom through her paces and I gave lots of helpful hints such as, " Talk slower and in shorter sentences. Talk into the ear with the hearing aid." While my advice was valid, it was clear that mom wasn't able to do much without my repeating the requests. Mom responded to my voice but not to the therapist. I begged the therapist to continue but knew it was futile. The best I could do was to learn some of her techniques to continue some of the exercises on my own. It was very disappointing as I want mom to be strong enough to come to my home for visits. She suggested we try the local volunteer ambulance for transporting mom to the house and back.

When either my sister or I go to visit mom we often encounter issues that need addressing. Some are minor but some are major. All of the aides know us and they seem to like and appreciate that we are there so often. It doesn't hurt that we come at different times of the day and basically keep an eye out for anything that could go wrong.

The rest of my visit had highs and lows. A high was my son came to visit me for 5 days to keep me company. We played golf while dodging the rain and ate sumptuous dinners together. A low was the day I backed out of the driveway to visit mom and had a very, very flat tire. Another low was tropical storm Faye who was off the coast and threatening to become a hurricane. I purchased my water and supplies and was prepared but not comfortable being alone. Fortunately, it turned away from us and I was safe. Another high was mom who was incredibly coherent for a few days. We had great chats and many, many laughs together. One evening after I had given her a chocolate which she enjoyed, she said, "How will we entertain these people?" I asked her, "What people?" Then she burst out laughing and said, "Us!" We went outside and entertained ourselves for awhile longer. Oh, and apparently I'm really good at something, I just don't know what. That was a high, too.

To people who wonder why we visit mom every day I say because she deserves some attention. Because she gave us a great childhood and she is still alive. She is still here. Until she is gone, we will protect her and entertain her. We will show her our love even if she doesn't remember that we were there.