Things will be so different now

Things will be so different now.

During my monthly trips home to Chicago, I used to devote 70% of my energy towards caregiving for my Mom. She had been the sick one ever since she had her stroke in January 2005. She was hospitalized several times, stayed in nursing home twice, had physical therapists and multiple nurse and social worker visits. I had to buy incontinence supplies for her, take her hearing aid to be repaired, explore new anti-itch medications, and I chose to decorate the living room for each holiday because she spent her days in the living room etc.

The caregivers’ duties have changed also. They spent most of their energy bathing her, dressing her, changing her, exercising her, walking her/transporting her into the living room, washing and combing her hair, rubbing her with ointments, giving her medicines 3X per day, giving her oxygen treatments (when needed), dressing her wounds, guarding her hearing aids, taking her to the dentist, rushing her to the ER, etc. Putting her to bed was the biggest evening event.

Things will be so different now.

When I walk into the house, she won’t be sitting in her lift chair watching television. I won’t see her face light up when I enter the room……….

I have decided to keep the household caregiver/homemaker routine/schedule the same. The same four ladies come round the clock to maintain the house and care for Dad. It’s familiar and comfortable for Dad.

Dad is bed-ridden. He sleeps most of the day yet he’s awake and calling (for help and company) from about 7PM till after midnight. (He knocks on the wall with his cane when he wants attention)

Dad has officially been a hospice patient since June 2007 (see June 6, 2007 web post). Therefore he has a supportive team of professionals looking out for him including a case manager, nurse, nurse assistants (they come to bathe him 2-3X per week), a kind minister, and of course, a physician that strives to keep him comfortable.

In all, about 10 people are taking care of Dad. Also, on Sundays, a parishioner brings him First Holy Communion.

I am dreading the reality of my next trip.

Those negative sentiments will be offset by the joy of spending time with my 95-year old Dad on Father’s Day.