Circle Of Life~click here for music
Sometimes we have no real choice but to do that which we do not want to do. We fight it as long and as hard as we can. Finally, we have to succumb to it. We may never be happy that we had to do it, but we ultimately recognize it was the "right" or best decision.
My family had such an agonizing time when it appeared a nursing home was the logical and safest place for my father to be. Who thinks of a nursing home and eagerly accepts it as a wonderful place to take a loved one? My guess is few, if any. Oh, how we fought it tooth and nail. Put that wonderful, decent, honorable, and much loved man in a nursing home? NO WAY!
We tried so very hard to make it work. After spending almost five months in hospitals and a physical rehab facility, Daddy was finally in his own home, surrounded by all that was familiar, all that he worked long hours to provide for his family. We ordered a hospital bed (extra long) to be placed in the Florida room. His wheelchair was custom made to accomodate his height. How grand that he could be in a room full of windows and skylights to brighten his days. Even though navigating the stairs to reach his bedroom was an impossibility except for occasional trips using the newly-installed stair glider, we loved that he was in a room where nature could be viewed and appreciated by him. We hired full-time nurses, and each of the four of us girls also came daily to assist Mom with Daddy's care. We took classes to learn how to transfer him from the bed to his wheelchair and vice versa. He was a tall man~6' 4" and built well. My mother is all of 5' 2"...and our help was definitely needed.
There were some very frightening times during those two months he spent at home. There were the seizures and the emergency runs to the hospital to halt them. The choking on his meals. The constant need to be sure he was properly hydrated. The oh-so-close calls when he almost fell while we were lifting him. The fevers that came and went. The memory problems. The changes in his overall health on a day-to-day basis. It was impossibly complicated. The brain aneurysm had disrupted so many functions most of us take for granted.
I still laugh, yet also get teary, at one memory that was very scary, but somehow ended up being amusing. Daddy was in bed having taken a nap. I had been called to come over and lift him into his wheelchair, so he could have dinner in the kitchen. I loved visiting with him anyway, and I was darn good at transferring his tall frame from place to place. We chatted for a bit before I lifted him up into a sitting position, holding him upright. His legs were over the side of the bed. I told him I was going to lift him and turn his body until I positioned him in his wheelchair. No problem. Now, the man had some amazing long legs and very large feet. Somehow, my feet and legs (my legs are long, too, but my feet are fairly small) got tangled up with his while I was turning him. I almost dropped him. In a flash, I could feel him slipping from my grip. Within moments, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Daddy was sitting ON MY LAP. He looked at me with a startled expression on his face...no doubt matching my equally startled one. Without missing a beat, I said, "So, what do you want for Christmas, little boy?" Well, Daddy laughed hysterically, as did I. It could have been a catastrophe had he dropped to the floor. Instead, it became a moment in time when the two of us had a hearty laugh that resulted in me seeing in his eyes his love for me. Mom entered the room to see what all the ruckus was about and giggled at the scene in front of her. It is a good memory. I have lots of those.
And so, during those two months, there were many ups and downs. Unfortunately, the downs became more frequent, lasted longer, hospital trips were more numerous, his speech began to disappear, eating was an enormous task and often accompanied by choking or a complete loss of appetite. Then came the day when he had a seizure that was the last time he would ever be able to live in his home. He went to the hospital emergency room and was admitted. He was there from mid-November to December 23, 1996. He never really awakened during that time except sporadically. A feeding tube was implanted in his stomach. He could not move any part of his body.
We were told a nursing home was his only option. We fought it. Why couldn't we continue to have nurses at home to tend to him? Why couldn't we keep assisting? His case was so complex with numerous problems and much unpredictability that went along with them. Feeding tubes themselves have perils that go along with the good they serve. He was a tall man who was essentially complete dead weight. Who could lift him? The staff was kind to us when explaining these issues. They pointed out the staggering cost to have the required number of aides and nurses with him every moment of the day. We tried to tell them that did not matter. We would do anything to keep him at home. They nodded their understanding, but continued to tell us the dangers of in-home care for someone in his condition. I think what convinced us of the need for a nursing home was when they discussed how his health would actually be jeopardized by not having the immediate and necessary care when problems would arise should he be at home. We were heartsick.
We began the trek from one nursing home to another searching for one we felt would suit his needs. Not an easy task. Certainly one of the most depressing and heartbreaking duties we had to perform. A decision was reluctantly made. And on December 23, 1996, Daddy was admitted to a nursing home. It was later on that one aide told me she never thought he would live through the nite.
I think I will stop for now. So much needs to be said about nursing homes and assisted living facilities. Most people will not be spared having to be involved with them in some way during their lives. So many memories, fears, triumphs, and concerns reside in them...and in those of us who were or are somehow connected to them.
"No man is so old as to believe he cannot live one more year." ~Sean O'Casey
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