While I was in Marco Island, I received a
call at 10pm on Wednesday night. Mom was extremely anxious all day, but became particularly
worse at bedtime. The nurse informed me
that mom keeps complaining about her roommate and wants to be moved. Mom had
become aggressive with her roommate today and pushed her roommate’s wheelchair. The roommate went to the nursing station; she
reported that mom crushed her hand in her closet when she pushed her. The nurse said she had to file the complaint
with the staff at The Community*. When
the nurse confronted mom, she told her nurse that her roommate was blocking her
from using the washroom.
During my conversation with the nurse, I
requested that mom be evaluated by their psychiatrist to see about reviewing
her anxiety and anti-depressant medications.
She told me that the next scheduled visit by their psychiatrist would be
on the following Monday Memorial Day. She put my mom’s name on his list of patients
to visit.
Saturday morning could not come soon
enough. I was looking forward to
visiting my mom and seeing what I could do to help her.
Mom looked like she felt relieved when she
saw Ron and me. She was in a hurry to
bring me up to date. The nursing staff had
assured mom that when I came back in town I could request another room for her.
“Julienne, my roommate’s horrible. She calls me dirty names. She stays in our
washroom cleaning her shoes and stockings in sink. She does not let me in to go to toilet. I can’t
live like this.” I listened then said, “Mom,
I heard you pushed your roommate.” “She
was in her closet. I asked her to move,
she ignored me. I had to go to the toilet. She wouldn’t let me pass.”
I do not agree with violence of any kind,
but on mom’s defense when she has to go . . . she really has to go! Patience was never one of mom’s virtues. Mom
has had many accidents in the past for not getting to the toilet soon
enough. I informed mom that pushing her
roommate is not acceptable. Her answer to me was “I had too!” I tried to
comfort mom by telling her I would talk to someone about her problems and see
what I could do.
While we were there mom complained about
being thirsty all the time. She
complained that everyone ignores her when she asks for water. Mom is still on water limitations due to her
congestive heart failure which seems to be under control now. When I am there I hate to see her suffer so I
always give her water when she asks.
While I was sitting with mom, a man rolled
his wheel chair up to us saying, “Wait a minute, if it is comforting I would
like to have it. Did you hear I backed
into a car? Are the police coming? Is anyone related to anyone?” He was clearly delusional. He walked away mumbling.
Mom’s anxiety this day was through the
roof. She told me several times that she
wanted to die. She could not sit in her
chair for more than a few minutes as she kept standing and wanting to leave and
then sitting back down. She was clearly
not comfortable in her skin.
I checked with the nurse on duty and she
confirmed that mom was scheduled to meet with the psychiatrist on Monday. She
had no idea what time he would arrive so I asked if she would have him call me
after meeting with mom. She agreed.
Many times after I leave my mom, I find
that I have a difficult time forming sentences.
Ron claims that I have a lot on my mind and assures me not to worry.
Right after our visit with mom, Ron and I
went to visit one of our Make-A-Wish children.
Her wish is to go to India to see her grandparents. She is non-verbal and has no expression on
her face; we are not sure if she can even see us. She is not able to hold her head up; her head
wiggles like a bobbled head doll. I mean
no disrespect to her or her family. Ron
and I have had so many Make-A-Wish Children in over 18 years; we love them all. Ron and I are just so taken this day by the struggle
this single mother has communicating with her daughter as we relate her
situation to our struggle to help mom.
Our next stop was Costco; we were searching
for outdoor flowers. On our way in we saw
a young woman in a handicap spot who was getting out of her car. She held on to the side of her car as she
tried to balance herself. She was having a very difficult time
walking. Her legs were wobbly; she could
not stand up straight. Ron asked me if I saw her. I could not have missed her. As we left Costco, in another handicap spot
there were three teenagers. A girl and a
boy were helping their severely handicapped friend or brother into the back of their
van. Going through this chapter with
mom has opened our eyes even wider to people’s struggles in life. We also appreciate what caregivers go through
in order to help and care for their loved ones.
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