I remember years ago Mom would always say, "If I ever become mentally frail, or something happens, I want you to swear to me you'll never put me into one of those places." She meant a nursing home/memory care facility. "They're just places where people dump their parents and never visit them, and take away their will to live!"
Honestly, those words still haunt my world. Not as they would had it been many years earlier but in a different fashion. Now those words haunt me because I realize it would have meant my own mental and physical destruction to have her live with me.
Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, not only out of fealty, but also because, for better or worse, she is the one who mentored my brothers and myself. She was a force to be reckoned with, and can be still.
I recall watching movies with her in which the mother was smothering and controlling. At one stage, Mom would comment that the woman was going to make her spawn weak, but then as she grew older Mom saw nothing wrong with such behavior. This put dread deep into my very blood, as this would be what Mom would become if she hadn't already.
Perhaps her power grabs in the latter years seemed reasonable to us from her earlier behaviors and they held no real concern as this was just who she was - demanding, annoying, bitter, and controlling. A visit from her would be exhausting as you never knew what type of manipulation would come with it. A change of a major plan for any reason meant that any plans made on my part would be canceled to accommodate her whims; it didn't matter if this cancelation was on her part or someone else's. Our lives were to serve her wants. <sigh>
Approximately 10 years ago she began suggesting I sell my house and buy a home with her in the Portland area that we could share <shudder>. I could have a small basement apartment and we would do everything together. I told her I'd rather stick sharp blades in my eyes. She replied that I just didn't understand how much fun and wonderful it would be. The truth is I did understand how wonderful for her it would be as I put my life on hold for her.
After she caught my house on fire (which she vehemently denied but demanded I thank her for the new kitchen - welcome to the Mater Logic) this truly became a no-go idea. My brothers were on tenterhooks when she visited as they worried about the safety of their own homes and the aftermath. Mom harangued me for weeks, as a third of my house was gutted and my dogs and I were forced to move out for over a month, because it was taking too long for the problem to be remedied. Finally, on Christmas Day she paid a visit and saw the empty space with the freshly delivered cabinets in their boxes. This seemed to stop her in her tracks.
From then on, there seemed to be a slow slide downhill. I was beginning to realize that there was a very good chance I would need to have Mom live with me, or make a life choice of moving to be with her. Neither option seemed viable, but then I've always believed that there is always the adaptable component of being an animal, and sometimes things work out for the best.
People were speaking to me about Mom's driving. "Take away her keys!" they'd tell me. Ha! She'd not only walk down and get another set, but she'd never speak to me again (despite how she treated me there was something about being disowned I liked less)!
Then the miracle occured. I received the final call from the doctor telling me she needed to be in observation as her state of mind was not one that could be left unchecked. She was no longer allowed to live on her own. This hit me like a ton of bricks. We had already arranged a consult with the doctor (my brother and I) and as the time progressed that week, and I spent time with Mom the realization that she couldn't come back to her home was imminent.
My brothers urged me to find a placement in a facility for her, as did the doctors at the geri-psych ward. I sought those which I believed would be cost-friendly, would take MediCare if necessary, and had open spaces, as well as being Catholic. To be honest, the choice here, in Portland, was limited.
Luckily, God looked well upon us as I was shopping. I found a place at St. Anthony's that was open, well-lit from sunlight and lights, big garden, space to move, a good sized room, and very friendly staff. The price was lower than anything else I'd seen, and I felt at home. I knew Mom would, as well.
As time ticked on Mom began to settle in. She had activities, and I knew she was safe. She wasn't driving, she wasn't near stoves, or anything else that could ignite, and there were activities to keep her mind, body, and soul together.
Despite Mom's "mean as a snake" demeanor when she first arrived, the staff found her easy to work with - except when she was trying to help out. And, I was able to teach them how to speak with her and gain her respect if they wanted to have her do anything. It worked.
Mom has a routine she follows. She has no concept of day, month, or season. She is able to relax and not worry about much. I know she puts up her dukes once in a while, but knowing she's safe and content is more than enough.
Coming Up....When Decisions Need to Be Made for Assisted/Memory Care
Honestly, those words still haunt my world. Not as they would had it been many years earlier but in a different fashion. Now those words haunt me because I realize it would have meant my own mental and physical destruction to have her live with me.
Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, not only out of fealty, but also because, for better or worse, she is the one who mentored my brothers and myself. She was a force to be reckoned with, and can be still.
I recall watching movies with her in which the mother was smothering and controlling. At one stage, Mom would comment that the woman was going to make her spawn weak, but then as she grew older Mom saw nothing wrong with such behavior. This put dread deep into my very blood, as this would be what Mom would become if she hadn't already.
Perhaps her power grabs in the latter years seemed reasonable to us from her earlier behaviors and they held no real concern as this was just who she was - demanding, annoying, bitter, and controlling. A visit from her would be exhausting as you never knew what type of manipulation would come with it. A change of a major plan for any reason meant that any plans made on my part would be canceled to accommodate her whims; it didn't matter if this cancelation was on her part or someone else's. Our lives were to serve her wants. <sigh>
Approximately 10 years ago she began suggesting I sell my house and buy a home with her in the Portland area that we could share <shudder>. I could have a small basement apartment and we would do everything together. I told her I'd rather stick sharp blades in my eyes. She replied that I just didn't understand how much fun and wonderful it would be. The truth is I did understand how wonderful for her it would be as I put my life on hold for her.
After she caught my house on fire (which she vehemently denied but demanded I thank her for the new kitchen - welcome to the Mater Logic) this truly became a no-go idea. My brothers were on tenterhooks when she visited as they worried about the safety of their own homes and the aftermath. Mom harangued me for weeks, as a third of my house was gutted and my dogs and I were forced to move out for over a month, because it was taking too long for the problem to be remedied. Finally, on Christmas Day she paid a visit and saw the empty space with the freshly delivered cabinets in their boxes. This seemed to stop her in her tracks.
From then on, there seemed to be a slow slide downhill. I was beginning to realize that there was a very good chance I would need to have Mom live with me, or make a life choice of moving to be with her. Neither option seemed viable, but then I've always believed that there is always the adaptable component of being an animal, and sometimes things work out for the best.
People were speaking to me about Mom's driving. "Take away her keys!" they'd tell me. Ha! She'd not only walk down and get another set, but she'd never speak to me again (despite how she treated me there was something about being disowned I liked less)!
Then the miracle occured. I received the final call from the doctor telling me she needed to be in observation as her state of mind was not one that could be left unchecked. She was no longer allowed to live on her own. This hit me like a ton of bricks. We had already arranged a consult with the doctor (my brother and I) and as the time progressed that week, and I spent time with Mom the realization that she couldn't come back to her home was imminent.
My brothers urged me to find a placement in a facility for her, as did the doctors at the geri-psych ward. I sought those which I believed would be cost-friendly, would take MediCare if necessary, and had open spaces, as well as being Catholic. To be honest, the choice here, in Portland, was limited.
Luckily, God looked well upon us as I was shopping. I found a place at St. Anthony's that was open, well-lit from sunlight and lights, big garden, space to move, a good sized room, and very friendly staff. The price was lower than anything else I'd seen, and I felt at home. I knew Mom would, as well.
As time ticked on Mom began to settle in. She had activities, and I knew she was safe. She wasn't driving, she wasn't near stoves, or anything else that could ignite, and there were activities to keep her mind, body, and soul together.
Despite Mom's "mean as a snake" demeanor when she first arrived, the staff found her easy to work with - except when she was trying to help out. And, I was able to teach them how to speak with her and gain her respect if they wanted to have her do anything. It worked.
Mom has a routine she follows. She has no concept of day, month, or season. She is able to relax and not worry about much. I know she puts up her dukes once in a while, but knowing she's safe and content is more than enough.
Coming Up....When Decisions Need to Be Made for Assisted/Memory Care
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