Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The other side of my life.
I live 2 lives. In one life, I'm Wife, Mom, helper, volunteer @ church, etc... and it's a pretty cool life I have. Yes, we could use a bit more cash in our coffers, but who COULDN'T, really, so it's overall a pretty satisfying thing to be me, in my "first" life.
The other life I lead is that of guardian for my Mom. And we're rapidly concluding that Dad's not MUCH better off than Mom is right now, either. Anyway. January 5, we moved my parents to an assisted living facility on the West side of town. The physical building was actually where my parents moved OUT of when they went to live where they have been living for the last 20 years, and it had been purchased, and converted to a 4 bed assisted living facility. It's as close to "perfect" as we could have asked for. I'll be forever grateful to my Mom's social worker for being "Johnny on the Spot" and calling me when she had toured the place back in early December. I was absolutely FLOORED when Dad agreed without hesitation to go look at the place, and then I about fell on the floor when he said he'd like to live there! It was like... HOLY COW! Three weeks prior to hearing about this place, he had told me in no uncertain terms that if I just "stuck them" someplace, he'd never forgive me.
We had been looking for some place for them to go for almost a year now. Dad had very specific issues about what was acceptable and what wasn't, and his criteria were pretty incredible. The funding was available, and there were beds available at "community based" facilities, which meant that they were, for the most part, someone's home, and they had 1 or 2 extra bedrooms, and had the certifications for having elderly people live in their home with them. That wasn't going to work for Mom and Dad, OR our entire family. I mean, there are 7 of us kids, we're all married, and have at least 2 kids, the grandkids are now getting married, and there are currently 4 great grandbabies, and soon to be 5, so going to visit in someone else's home would be so incredibly awkward for everyone, it just wouldn't work.
There's a new facility that opened up, and it would have been PERFECT, except that there was no funding available to help pay for any place that had more than 10 beds... so scratch THAT idea... Then this place opened up. It's got 95% of what Dad wanted.
Ok, I'm rambling now... Anyway, we got them moved in on Jan. 5. Mom decided that she needed to leave some DNA in the old apartment, and somehow, despite the fact that there were 8 of us in that cramped little apartment, she managed to get into the bedroom alone, and fall on her head, and bust her glasses, and bleed all over the damn place. Then on Jan. 13, she got up in the middle of the night, and fell again, because the stubborn old broad refuses to ask for help. Then last Thursday morning, the CNA on duty was helping Dad get all of his "night gear" off, she heard the alarm that said Mom was getting up, headed that way, and by the time she got across the hall to Mom's room, she was on the floor, bleeding profusely, and had another knock on the head. I went over there a couple of hours later, and the CNA on duty said that her blood pressure was being all funky, way high, then way low, go back up, etc... and then while I was there, you just couldn't wake her up! She was SO lethargic! So I called her doctor up at Marshfield, and he suggested I take her to the ER, which I did, and they did a CT scan of her head, and it revealed a small bleed on her brain, and they were going to transfer her to Marshfield. woo.
So now she's been up to the hospital since Thursday afternoon, and they won't release her back to the assisted living facility, but insist that she go to a nursing home. It sucks. Mainly because I am the one who has to sign the papers to put her there, and I hate that! I guess I should just be very grateful that she's not coherent enough to KNOW that I'm the one who signed the papers... ugh.
The other life I lead is that of guardian for my Mom. And we're rapidly concluding that Dad's not MUCH better off than Mom is right now, either. Anyway. January 5, we moved my parents to an assisted living facility on the West side of town. The physical building was actually where my parents moved OUT of when they went to live where they have been living for the last 20 years, and it had been purchased, and converted to a 4 bed assisted living facility. It's as close to "perfect" as we could have asked for. I'll be forever grateful to my Mom's social worker for being "Johnny on the Spot" and calling me when she had toured the place back in early December. I was absolutely FLOORED when Dad agreed without hesitation to go look at the place, and then I about fell on the floor when he said he'd like to live there! It was like... HOLY COW! Three weeks prior to hearing about this place, he had told me in no uncertain terms that if I just "stuck them" someplace, he'd never forgive me.
We had been looking for some place for them to go for almost a year now. Dad had very specific issues about what was acceptable and what wasn't, and his criteria were pretty incredible. The funding was available, and there were beds available at "community based" facilities, which meant that they were, for the most part, someone's home, and they had 1 or 2 extra bedrooms, and had the certifications for having elderly people live in their home with them. That wasn't going to work for Mom and Dad, OR our entire family. I mean, there are 7 of us kids, we're all married, and have at least 2 kids, the grandkids are now getting married, and there are currently 4 great grandbabies, and soon to be 5, so going to visit in someone else's home would be so incredibly awkward for everyone, it just wouldn't work.
There's a new facility that opened up, and it would have been PERFECT, except that there was no funding available to help pay for any place that had more than 10 beds... so scratch THAT idea... Then this place opened up. It's got 95% of what Dad wanted.
Ok, I'm rambling now... Anyway, we got them moved in on Jan. 5. Mom decided that she needed to leave some DNA in the old apartment, and somehow, despite the fact that there were 8 of us in that cramped little apartment, she managed to get into the bedroom alone, and fall on her head, and bust her glasses, and bleed all over the damn place. Then on Jan. 13, she got up in the middle of the night, and fell again, because the stubborn old broad refuses to ask for help. Then last Thursday morning, the CNA on duty was helping Dad get all of his "night gear" off, she heard the alarm that said Mom was getting up, headed that way, and by the time she got across the hall to Mom's room, she was on the floor, bleeding profusely, and had another knock on the head. I went over there a couple of hours later, and the CNA on duty said that her blood pressure was being all funky, way high, then way low, go back up, etc... and then while I was there, you just couldn't wake her up! She was SO lethargic! So I called her doctor up at Marshfield, and he suggested I take her to the ER, which I did, and they did a CT scan of her head, and it revealed a small bleed on her brain, and they were going to transfer her to Marshfield. woo.
So now she's been up to the hospital since Thursday afternoon, and they won't release her back to the assisted living facility, but insist that she go to a nursing home. It sucks. Mainly because I am the one who has to sign the papers to put her there, and I hate that! I guess I should just be very grateful that she's not coherent enough to KNOW that I'm the one who signed the papers... ugh.
posted by Julie B. at
12:28 PM
Julie BuntKids: Ben is 18 and Andrew is 4 1/2 (going on 30).
Residence: Wisconsin Rapids
Occupation: Stay-at-home mother
Activities: In addition to taking care of her family at home, Julie holds guardianship for her 81-year-old mother, who lives with her dad, in an assisted living facility. She also is very active in her church, Good Shepherd Evangelical Lutheran, in the town of Saratoga.
A Description of this blog: My blog will be about my experiences here in Wisconsin Rapids, comparing my children's life with my childhood, and my daily struggles to balance time between making sure my parents' needs are being met and making sure that my family here at home has what they need. Also included will be humorous, (I hope) quips and anecdotes describing my daily struggle to find an island of "girly-ness" in the ocean of testosterone I swim in daily.
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