On March 31, 2013, Mom was admitted to the Geri-Psych Ward in Tukwila, Washington. This wasn't an easy move, but it wasn't all that unexpected, either.
AS I stated earlier, I spent the week with her, taking her to her favorite spots. Every evening was bittersweet, knowing how much joy she found in those days, yet also knowing what was overshadowing the purpose.
Years ago, Mom had created a trust, and also had made out her Powers-of-Attorney. I was made the Power-of-Attorney for her Medical and Durable. Her friend, Nadya, had the Power for Medical, as well, as she was in close proximity to Mom - so if something dire happened, Nadya knew all Mom's wishes, and what to do as I may be unavailable. My brother, Tom, was made Co-Power on the Durable, as a means of checks and balances.
So, when the morning came (after Tom, Peg & I had met with the doctor) Tom called me to let me know the hospital was open and waiting for Mom. Now, how do we get Mom into the car, and packed? She's very stubborn, and may not be willing to go. So, we concocted that she needed to go in for a sleep study in Seattle, as that may answer some of the questions and problems she'd been having.
Did that work? Not really. She phoned Nadya almost immediately, and told her, "They can't just pick me up and replant me like a potted plant!" This stung - mostly because it gave notice that she had an awareness of what was going on. However, she did grab an overnight bag, packed her nightie, and one or two other things, and off we went in the car. According to Nadya, though, Mom was looking forward to the trip to discover what was wrong with her. Isn't it odd how we recall events!
The drive was sometimes pleasant, but the harrowing truth was permeating the air. We talked about the week, and going to see Tom's new home. Then she'd launch into how wrong this all was; followed by a pleasant chat.
We arrived at Tom's house. I knew he and Peg were dreading the upcoming journey to Tukwila.
Luckily, their ride was similar to mine, except they took the ferry to Seattle, giving Mom a chance to be in the open air and view the sites. When they arrived at the hospital, the nurse asked Mom how she felt. Mom told her she was ready for a nap. The nurse responded that they had a bed all ready for her, and if she followed, she could lie down. Mom just trotted in. Tom said it couldn't have been any easier.
Fortunately, we had our our documents, and I also scanned mine, so it would be easier to either send or print a copy for whomever. This proved beneficial.
I did receive a call from Social Services inquiring about Mom, stating that they were ready to take her into care, in Port Angeles. This was very strange, as Mom was already admitted, and there was no need for DHS to be involved. I told her the events, the facts, and she told she would close the case.
While Mom was in Geri-Psych, she really enjoyed many of the other people there. While I wasn't able to visit, dealing with her matters down here, and catching up on work from all the days I' missed, she told me, on the phone, about all the lovely ladies she had met. She had one speak with me (they had a cordless for the patients to use when appropriate). They gadded about and watched television. Tom told me that they shared rooms, but when Mom went into the room, she slid the curtain aside and she and her "roomie" just talked and talked and talked. He said that's all these ladies did all day was talk! Mom was in 7th Heaven!
I did manage to get her outside, as she said she just wanted to go for a walk! I talked to the doctor and nurse and they were able to manage an escort for her to go outside.
She also had visitors - my brother, Tom, was a frequent one, and my nephew, Damian, came with crosswords, and other assorted items for Mom's pleasure, a few times, as well as Lawrence, who drove up from Portland for the visit.
The doctors put her on Seroquel, a small dose, just to eliminate some of the symptoms and the anxiety she was experiencing. This produced good results - but they weren't going to allow her to have any wine (which Mom says relaxes her). So, when one of my brothers came to visit, and he brought a bottle of wine (despite my warnings) he was told "Nononononononononononononononono!" That was fine.
When Mom came down to Portland, to be in St. Anthony's, Tom & Peg brought her, while I finished readying her room (Larry and I had moved down her bedroom furniture for her, and I was putting in the finishing touches of the doodads purchased for her room, as well as ensuring it was all done well). When they arrived, we went out into the garden.
The staff introduced themselves, and Mom stated, "It's nice to meet you, but I'm only a visitor here." Uh-oh. Imagine her surprise and shock when we took her to her room (which was right behind the window where we were sitting in the garden) and she saw her furniture. It was not a happy reaction. It was anger.
Of course, I had spent the previous weeks driving between Portland and Port Angeles on Saturdays putting together her clothes, and other assorted things, and arranging for her yard to be dealt with, etc. So, her reaction, while natural wasn't what I wanted to hear - but it was, honestly, the truth.
After a week or two, Mom would tell me about the nice hospital she'd come from in London (it was really Seattle, but that's too trivial) where she'd spent 3-5 years before coming down. It wasn't for a few more weeks that she realized her mistake in location. But it was a romantic type of thought...after all, who in the states wouldn't mind being placed in London with the insurance paying for it?!
Since that time, she has been trying to arrange for the transport of her belongings back home. But in the year this has decreased a bit. She has begun falling into the routine of the center, being allowed outside the Memory Care to participate in other activities (as she doesn't try to escape), but with an escort.
There are enough bumps and twists in such a situation not to have to be burdened with the legal dealings that are sometimes left until it's too late.
Be sure to have your Powers-of-Attorney, your wishes, and your trust/will, or what have you, sent to those who you trust to do the right thing for you. You can always change them if necessary, and if you haven't waited too long. Hopefully, Mom was fortunate in this area - I'm trying....as are my brothers....
AS I stated earlier, I spent the week with her, taking her to her favorite spots. Every evening was bittersweet, knowing how much joy she found in those days, yet also knowing what was overshadowing the purpose.
Mom as a young girl
So, when the morning came (after Tom, Peg & I had met with the doctor) Tom called me to let me know the hospital was open and waiting for Mom. Now, how do we get Mom into the car, and packed? She's very stubborn, and may not be willing to go. So, we concocted that she needed to go in for a sleep study in Seattle, as that may answer some of the questions and problems she'd been having.
Mom and Her Mother in the Late '70's, early '80's
Did that work? Not really. She phoned Nadya almost immediately, and told her, "They can't just pick me up and replant me like a potted plant!" This stung - mostly because it gave notice that she had an awareness of what was going on. However, she did grab an overnight bag, packed her nightie, and one or two other things, and off we went in the car. According to Nadya, though, Mom was looking forward to the trip to discover what was wrong with her. Isn't it odd how we recall events!
Mom and Tony at Beach House ca 2008
The drive was sometimes pleasant, but the harrowing truth was permeating the air. We talked about the week, and going to see Tom's new home. Then she'd launch into how wrong this all was; followed by a pleasant chat.
We arrived at Tom's house. I knew he and Peg were dreading the upcoming journey to Tukwila.
I did receive a call from Social Services inquiring about Mom, stating that they were ready to take her into care, in Port Angeles. This was very strange, as Mom was already admitted, and there was no need for DHS to be involved. I told her the events, the facts, and she told she would close the case.
While Mom was in Geri-Psych, she really enjoyed many of the other people there. While I wasn't able to visit, dealing with her matters down here, and catching up on work from all the days I' missed, she told me, on the phone, about all the lovely ladies she had met. She had one speak with me (they had a cordless for the patients to use when appropriate). They gadded about and watched television. Tom told me that they shared rooms, but when Mom went into the room, she slid the curtain aside and she and her "roomie" just talked and talked and talked. He said that's all these ladies did all day was talk! Mom was in 7th Heaven!
I did manage to get her outside, as she said she just wanted to go for a walk! I talked to the doctor and nurse and they were able to manage an escort for her to go outside.
She also had visitors - my brother, Tom, was a frequent one, and my nephew, Damian, came with crosswords, and other assorted items for Mom's pleasure, a few times, as well as Lawrence, who drove up from Portland for the visit.
The doctors put her on Seroquel, a small dose, just to eliminate some of the symptoms and the anxiety she was experiencing. This produced good results - but they weren't going to allow her to have any wine (which Mom says relaxes her). So, when one of my brothers came to visit, and he brought a bottle of wine (despite my warnings) he was told "Nononononononononononononononono!" That was fine.
Mom, Connie & Nadya at the Beach House
When Mom came down to Portland, to be in St. Anthony's, Tom & Peg brought her, while I finished readying her room (Larry and I had moved down her bedroom furniture for her, and I was putting in the finishing touches of the doodads purchased for her room, as well as ensuring it was all done well). When they arrived, we went out into the garden.
The staff introduced themselves, and Mom stated, "It's nice to meet you, but I'm only a visitor here." Uh-oh. Imagine her surprise and shock when we took her to her room (which was right behind the window where we were sitting in the garden) and she saw her furniture. It was not a happy reaction. It was anger.
Of course, I had spent the previous weeks driving between Portland and Port Angeles on Saturdays putting together her clothes, and other assorted things, and arranging for her yard to be dealt with, etc. So, her reaction, while natural wasn't what I wanted to hear - but it was, honestly, the truth.
After a week or two, Mom would tell me about the nice hospital she'd come from in London (it was really Seattle, but that's too trivial) where she'd spent 3-5 years before coming down. It wasn't for a few more weeks that she realized her mistake in location. But it was a romantic type of thought...after all, who in the states wouldn't mind being placed in London with the insurance paying for it?!
Mom with her 4 sons, 2008
Since that time, she has been trying to arrange for the transport of her belongings back home. But in the year this has decreased a bit. She has begun falling into the routine of the center, being allowed outside the Memory Care to participate in other activities (as she doesn't try to escape), but with an escort.
There are enough bumps and twists in such a situation not to have to be burdened with the legal dealings that are sometimes left until it's too late.
Be sure to have your Powers-of-Attorney, your wishes, and your trust/will, or what have you, sent to those who you trust to do the right thing for you. You can always change them if necessary, and if you haven't waited too long. Hopefully, Mom was fortunate in this area - I'm trying....as are my brothers....
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