Unfilial Grousing & Status Report on the Old Folks
My mother is still hanging on to life, even though her nurses thought she was going to go late last month. Hospice took her off 24-hour care a week ago, since even when she is agitated, she is now physically incapable of getting out of bed by herself. My dad complains about the amount of pain medication she is receiving, but when she isn't medicated so heavily she sleeps virtually all the time, she's not in her right mind anyway. Her communication skills have improved somewhat but are still such that it can take her awhile to get across to us the idea that she is uncomfortable. My dad and I spent an hour trying to figure out why her stockings were horrible, horrible, horrible (she wasn't wearing any, not even socks) until it occurred to me that her legs hurt.
My dad thinks that the care center is responsible for the increased frequency of pain medication (to keep her doped up and less demanding), but I must confess. I spoke to the Hospice nurse, Deborah, and we decided that a dosing schedule of every four hours was inadequate to keep the pain under control. Mother has completely forgotten how to use the nurse's call button (she wasn't terribly good with it when she first got there in April), and my dad's not very good about reading the signs even when he's there. Actually, I discussed an increased dosing schedule with Deborah while my father was in the room, but he has forgotten.
Daddy is forgetting way too much, and I don’t know how much of it’s stress. I’m concerned he may have Alzheimer’s. There’s a history of it in his family – his maternal grandmother had it, as did a maternal uncle who died recently. It could also be thyroid, which is how I’m trying to sell a trip to the doctor to him. He tells me most of his forgetfulness is a show, but that’s baloney. He forgets important stuff, although he tends to remember that better than the trivial. He also assures me he has things well in hand, but I expect he doesn’t want to do anything until after my mother is gone, buried and memorialized.
She is … was … of the opinion that neither of them would long survive the other. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t outlast him by much, but I had hoped my dad wouldn’t be quite so interdependent with her. Now I have my doubts.
My dad thinks that the care center is responsible for the increased frequency of pain medication (to keep her doped up and less demanding), but I must confess. I spoke to the Hospice nurse, Deborah, and we decided that a dosing schedule of every four hours was inadequate to keep the pain under control. Mother has completely forgotten how to use the nurse's call button (she wasn't terribly good with it when she first got there in April), and my dad's not very good about reading the signs even when he's there. Actually, I discussed an increased dosing schedule with Deborah while my father was in the room, but he has forgotten.
Daddy is forgetting way too much, and I don’t know how much of it’s stress. I’m concerned he may have Alzheimer’s. There’s a history of it in his family – his maternal grandmother had it, as did a maternal uncle who died recently. It could also be thyroid, which is how I’m trying to sell a trip to the doctor to him. He tells me most of his forgetfulness is a show, but that’s baloney. He forgets important stuff, although he tends to remember that better than the trivial. He also assures me he has things well in hand, but I expect he doesn’t want to do anything until after my mother is gone, buried and memorialized.
She is … was … of the opinion that neither of them would long survive the other. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t outlast him by much, but I had hoped my dad wouldn’t be quite so interdependent with her. Now I have my doubts.
posted by Jeannette | 11:50 AM
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