Difficult
Decisions and Crucial Choices Part 1
If the doctor had said to Jill, “Your mother can no longer live alone. You need to find an assisted living community or hire a personal care taker,” Jill’s decisions, although difficult, would have been easier.
Instead, the doctor said, “Your mother is physically healthy for her age, but I notice a significant decline in her memory since her last visit. That decline may or may not continue. ” Jill felt a sudden surge of panic as she heard those words. In the last few weeks, on more than one occasion, she had experienced her mom’s lack of focus. Just last week her Mother had phoned her crying. She had lost her way while walking her dog and didn’t know how to find the house she had lived in for over thirty years. Jill was able to “talk” her Mother home with a few simple directions, but the incident left Jill feeling uneasy.
Then yesterday, while they were shopping for groceries, her mom had mistaken Jill for her own mother, Jill’s grandmother. She remained confused for several seconds before she snapped out of it and recognized that Jill was her daughter. There had been other incidents, but Jill had brushed them off as simple signs of old age – nothing serious enough for concern.
Suddenly, the doctor is saying the changes may not be so simple after all. “What does this decline mean?” Jill asked cautiously
“You need to be alert to more severe memory loss or changes in behavior,” he responds vaguely.
“Then what?” she asked. “Well,” he says, “you may want to consider getting her some assistance. It is up to you to decide when the time is right.”
“Up to me,” Jill thought to herself. “How can it be up to me? This is my Mom the doctor is talking about. She’s the parent - she makes the decisions, not me.”
The drive home from the doctor’s office was a long one. Sadly, Jill knew in her heart that, in less than 5 minutes, her life and her mother’s life had dramatically changed.
When Jill called the assisted living community where I was the Executive Director to set up an appointment, we agreed on a time later that day. She arrived early, and when I introduced myself, I could sense that her emotional state was fragile. I invited her to my office. “How can I help?” I asked as we sat facing each other across the table I used for interviewing clients. Her eyes filled with tears as she related the story of her visit to the doctor and shared the details of a situation that I had heard a hundred of times before.
Jill was in a quandary; her mom’s memory loss was not severe enough to warrant a diagnosis of dementia, but it was severe enough that it was uncertain how much longer she could live independently. Jill was confused and apprehensive. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. She worried that if her mother’s memory deteriorated further that she wouldn’t be safe to live at home alone. Yet, she was convinced her mother would do anything to remain in the house where she had raised her two children.
What should I do?” she pleaded. “If it is too soon for her to move somewhere, she will never forgive me. If I don’t move her she may really get lost one day; I also worry she may leave the stove on and start a fire.”
“I am sorry,” I said, trying to console her. “ I understand that this may be one of the most difficult decisions you have ever made. I can help by introducing you to my community, and I can offer one of the possible solutions. I will also give you the names of other communities. You will want to make a comparison of prices and services. Use the Internet if it helps, but don’t substitute that for visiting in person. Pay attention to your feelings, and don’t allow price, services or amenities to unduly influence you. If you choose to relocate your Mom to a community, don’t dismiss the feelings you get as you walk in the door. If you feel “at home” more than likely, she will too.
If the doctor had said to Jill, “Your mother can no longer live alone. You need to find an assisted living community or hire a personal care taker,” Jill’s decisions, although difficult, would have been easier.
Instead, the doctor said, “Your mother is physically healthy for her age, but I notice a significant decline in her memory since her last visit. That decline may or may not continue. ” Jill felt a sudden surge of panic as she heard those words. In the last few weeks, on more than one occasion, she had experienced her mom’s lack of focus. Just last week her Mother had phoned her crying. She had lost her way while walking her dog and didn’t know how to find the house she had lived in for over thirty years. Jill was able to “talk” her Mother home with a few simple directions, but the incident left Jill feeling uneasy.
Then yesterday, while they were shopping for groceries, her mom had mistaken Jill for her own mother, Jill’s grandmother. She remained confused for several seconds before she snapped out of it and recognized that Jill was her daughter. There had been other incidents, but Jill had brushed them off as simple signs of old age – nothing serious enough for concern.
Suddenly, the doctor is saying the changes may not be so simple after all. “What does this decline mean?” Jill asked cautiously
“You need to be alert to more severe memory loss or changes in behavior,” he responds vaguely.
“Then what?” she asked. “Well,” he says, “you may want to consider getting her some assistance. It is up to you to decide when the time is right.”
“Up to me,” Jill thought to herself. “How can it be up to me? This is my Mom the doctor is talking about. She’s the parent - she makes the decisions, not me.”
The drive home from the doctor’s office was a long one. Sadly, Jill knew in her heart that, in less than 5 minutes, her life and her mother’s life had dramatically changed.
When Jill called the assisted living community where I was the Executive Director to set up an appointment, we agreed on a time later that day. She arrived early, and when I introduced myself, I could sense that her emotional state was fragile. I invited her to my office. “How can I help?” I asked as we sat facing each other across the table I used for interviewing clients. Her eyes filled with tears as she related the story of her visit to the doctor and shared the details of a situation that I had heard a hundred of times before.
Jill was in a quandary; her mom’s memory loss was not severe enough to warrant a diagnosis of dementia, but it was severe enough that it was uncertain how much longer she could live independently. Jill was confused and apprehensive. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. She worried that if her mother’s memory deteriorated further that she wouldn’t be safe to live at home alone. Yet, she was convinced her mother would do anything to remain in the house where she had raised her two children.
What should I do?” she pleaded. “If it is too soon for her to move somewhere, she will never forgive me. If I don’t move her she may really get lost one day; I also worry she may leave the stove on and start a fire.”
“I am sorry,” I said, trying to console her. “ I understand that this may be one of the most difficult decisions you have ever made. I can help by introducing you to my community, and I can offer one of the possible solutions. I will also give you the names of other communities. You will want to make a comparison of prices and services. Use the Internet if it helps, but don’t substitute that for visiting in person. Pay attention to your feelings, and don’t allow price, services or amenities to unduly influence you. If you choose to relocate your Mom to a community, don’t dismiss the feelings you get as you walk in the door. If you feel “at home” more than likely, she will too.
“What about someone to live with her, or
come in during the day” she inquired.
“Of course there are many reputable agencies.” I answered. “I will be happy to give you several pamphlets with contact numbers and information.”
I continued, “It is essential that you allow your mom to be a part of your decision.” “You don’t need to go into great detail about your intentions. As you narrow your community search, accept their invitations for lunch for you and your mom. Your Mom will enjoy the attention. Don’t pressure her by explaining that you want her to make a choice. Allow her to enjoy the excursions as an adventure. Luckily, it appears that time is on your side. This gives you the opportunity to build a relationship with the communities that are high on your list. Your mother’s choices are clouded and prejudiced by the images of HER mom in a nursing home. As she interacts with the residents and staff during her visits, she will begin to understand that assisted living today is much different.”
“If you consider a home help agency, include your mother in your personal interviews with a potential caretaker. Watch for the interaction that occurs between them, and pay close attention to how well they seem to relate.
“Be careful not to get angry with your mom if she objects. Assure her you understand how difficult it is for her to accept that a change may be in her future; empathize with the threat she feels about loosing her independence. On the other hand, it’s essential that you don’t let her dissuade you.”
I offered to show Jill our community. I was sure she would be pleasantly surprised. The dining room was exceptionally impressive. It faced a courtyard filled with tropical flowers and greens, and the colors used for flatware and table decorations echoed the oranges, reds, and greens of nature’s décor visible through the windows. The living room, the game room, the library and computer lab were also engaging. Our apartments were spacious and tastefully decorated; the building resembled an expensive hotel - certainly not a facility.
The staff members we encountered along the way were kind and friendly to Jill. The residents we saw were busy with various activities. Two ladies were concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle at the game table, a foursome was playing bridge in the game room, and a few less industrious people were contentedly watching the people come and go in the entry.
“Let’s go back to my office.” I handed her a brochure as we sat down. I asked, “Do you have a list of priorities for your mom’s future? What can I do to assist you with your dilemma?” She appeared overwhelmed by my questions. I put my hand on her arm. “Let's get us a cup of coffee. We’ll explore this problem together.” As I left my office and walked toward the kitchen, I understood that Jill, like thousands of adult children, was feeling lost and alone. I was confident that, over time, I could assist her in finding a viable solution.
(I will expand upon the solutions for Jill in the next several entries)
“Of course there are many reputable agencies.” I answered. “I will be happy to give you several pamphlets with contact numbers and information.”
I continued, “It is essential that you allow your mom to be a part of your decision.” “You don’t need to go into great detail about your intentions. As you narrow your community search, accept their invitations for lunch for you and your mom. Your Mom will enjoy the attention. Don’t pressure her by explaining that you want her to make a choice. Allow her to enjoy the excursions as an adventure. Luckily, it appears that time is on your side. This gives you the opportunity to build a relationship with the communities that are high on your list. Your mother’s choices are clouded and prejudiced by the images of HER mom in a nursing home. As she interacts with the residents and staff during her visits, she will begin to understand that assisted living today is much different.”
“If you consider a home help agency, include your mother in your personal interviews with a potential caretaker. Watch for the interaction that occurs between them, and pay close attention to how well they seem to relate.
“Be careful not to get angry with your mom if she objects. Assure her you understand how difficult it is for her to accept that a change may be in her future; empathize with the threat she feels about loosing her independence. On the other hand, it’s essential that you don’t let her dissuade you.”
I offered to show Jill our community. I was sure she would be pleasantly surprised. The dining room was exceptionally impressive. It faced a courtyard filled with tropical flowers and greens, and the colors used for flatware and table decorations echoed the oranges, reds, and greens of nature’s décor visible through the windows. The living room, the game room, the library and computer lab were also engaging. Our apartments were spacious and tastefully decorated; the building resembled an expensive hotel - certainly not a facility.
The staff members we encountered along the way were kind and friendly to Jill. The residents we saw were busy with various activities. Two ladies were concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle at the game table, a foursome was playing bridge in the game room, and a few less industrious people were contentedly watching the people come and go in the entry.
“Let’s go back to my office.” I handed her a brochure as we sat down. I asked, “Do you have a list of priorities for your mom’s future? What can I do to assist you with your dilemma?” She appeared overwhelmed by my questions. I put my hand on her arm. “Let's get us a cup of coffee. We’ll explore this problem together.” As I left my office and walked toward the kitchen, I understood that Jill, like thousands of adult children, was feeling lost and alone. I was confident that, over time, I could assist her in finding a viable solution.
(I will expand upon the solutions for Jill in the next several entries)
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