by Maria on September 1, 2010
Three weeks after Joan’s transition from Spouse to Wound Care Nurse and almost eight years to the day of Joe’s diagnosis of dementia, he died.
The “silver lining” as Joan called it, was that he died at home, “where he wanted to be and where I wanted him to be too.” 
There were times when I wasn’t sure it would happen that way.
Joan was exhausted from getting up every two hours to move him so that his sore wouldn’t worsen and under no circumstances would she consider a nursing home. She’d had family staying with her by then – her daughter and her sister-in-law too. “But getting up is my job. I’m his wife and I want to be with him as much as possible in the time we have left.”
And she was with him.
She’d been with him since she’d understood what dementia meant. She was with him through the wandering in the beginning, the sundowner’s syndrome in the middle, the struggles to get him to bathe, to wear just one set of pants, to eat the meals she painstakingly made to suit his changing tastes.
[Click here to continue reading]
by Maria on August 25, 2010
It had been two years since Joe had come home to live with and be cared for by his wife Joan – a full five years since he was diagnosed with dementia.
He was declining now at a rapid pace – physically as well as cognitively.
Joan and I spoke often during this time. She was exhausted from caregiving and needed all the emotional support she could get to keep going. At my suggestion she hired more regular help so that she could take breaks and reluctantly joined a support group.
During the winter of 2008, Joe developed a bedsore on his lower back during a hospitalization in which his kidneys were the focus. I’ll never forget visiting with them in the E.R. before he was admitted.
[Click here to continue reading]
by Maria on August 18, 2010
One of the most important life lessons my mother ever taught me is one that I think is particularly useful for the adult daughters and sons out there who are searching for local services for their aging parents.
Are you ready? Here it is:
Whenever someone agrees to assist you with something, always ask for his/her name and write it down along with the date.
If I could supplement mom’s advice just a smidge I’d add that you ought to organize this info like you would a call log and keep it in a safe place.
The logic is so simple and yet so profound.
If you’re speaking with someone who isn’t likely to follow-up, then his or her name (first and last) is like a little insurance policy on the time you’ve just invested in speaking with him or her. And if you get lucky and stumble upon a true gem of a human being (Hallelujah!), then learning his or her name is downright vital.
[Click here to continue reading]
by Maria on August 11, 2010
It was a Monday and Joan was rattled.
She’d called me early in the morning and left a message that described so fully and completely what often happens in the day-to-day of caring for someone with dementia.
“Maria, it’s Joan…” she said.
“An equipment delivery for Joe arrived yesterday morning for something that no one told me had been ordered. Then a nurse came to take his blood. It sure would have been nice if I’d know she was coming - I would have at least brushed my teeth!
I had just finished the breakfast dishes and was starting to fix Joe a sandwich when the pharmacy called to say that they were sending over a worker to pick up some medication that they gave me by accident yesterday.
[Click here to continue reading]
