Finding my Zen

Today I got the phone call I’ve been waiting for…a large apartment in Assisted Living will be ready most likely by mid-September, possibly at the end of month. They have to do a re-model first. So why are feelings of doubt re-entering my mind?

Probably because mom is doing so much better than that disastrous day last Wednesday. This happens to me all the time. On not so great days I’m all for AL. On days and weeks that are incident-free, I question that move. And now that her pill management issue seems to be under control…

What I do know is that this condition will progress (I don’t like to call it a disease – my hang up) and she will not get better. And I don’t know at what rate it will progress. That is the unknown.

Her health care team emphasizes that for someone with her condition, structure in her day is so important. It helps give order to things. Intellectually, I agree and understand. It’s the emotional side of me that I’m in constant battle with. I want reassurance that she will be happy and accepting in her new living environment.

Now, to let her know.

What a difference a few hours can make. I posted my initial thoughts early this morning. It’s now early afternoon.

I didn’t get a chance to call mom until about 12:30. The sound of her voice told me she was still in bed. I was right. She said she was tired. The aide came up but my mother told her she didn’t want to take her pills then. Here we go again! What the @#$%%^&* is wrong with these people! How many times and how many ways do I need to say if a problem or issue comes in administering her pills to call me?

So, at 12:30, my mother still hadn’t eaten and hadn’t taken her pills. Plus, she had a hair appointment at 2:30 p.m.

I called back about 45 minutes later. She said she took her pills, ate something and was getting dressed but seemed a little confused about what she needed to do in finishing getting ready. I asked if she had her underwear on – check; blouse – check. Still needed to put her pants and shoes and make-up on. I told her to finish that.

I called back another 30 minutes later. She was getting ready to eat some more. I told her to first get completely dressed, make-up, etc., then go eat.

In the meantime, I’m playing phone tag with the director of therapy and can’t get a hold of anyone in Personalized Living. I’ve left two messages since this morning to see what the heck is going on. I am doing everything I can…trying to find my Zen and remain calm.

Back now at 4 p.m. Therapy issues resolved. Medicare is confusing but boy do I love its benefits. I’m not going to get started in the partisan politics of it. All I know is that it is working for me and I’m glad it’s around. Mom is being released from home health care next week and and will be back in outpatient therapy.

The pill management issue? Well, the department assistant got an earful from me. I just had to vent since this is the third or fourth time that I’m complaining about the same issue. At this point I’m really not interested excuses. As far as I’m concerned excuses should be non-existant. This should not only be in their training, it’s common sense — phone the on-call manager or call a family member if a problem arises!

At least my mother had a good visit at the hairdresser. Om…



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