And life goes on...........More Nursing Home Drama

04-10-2012 at 08:32 AM 

I write this with hesitation only because I know it’s going to be “complicated” in the way that there is so much to say and I have to think long and hard about how to say it. It all started on the second night of Passover, Easter Sunday, when I went to the home to pick up my grandmother and bring her to my mothers for dinner. At first she seemed confused as to why she was leaving and almost seemed sort of hesitant to leave when I said, “I’m getting you out of here” as though I was busting her out. I told her where we were going and why and it seemed to have calmed her. I took my youngest son with me in the hopes he would help me with opening and closing the doors as I guided the wheelchair to the car. It didn’t work out that way. My son was interested in doing his own thing. Swinging the doors open and letting them shut on me as I tried to back out while pulling about 140 lbs my son was of no help whatsoever. I hoped at that point I could depend on the kindness of the staff. They didn’t want to help either but one of the old ladies who lived there jumped out of her seat and acted as if she knew exactly what I needed from her. She came to the exit door of her wing and held it open with a smile and as soon as I had the wheelchair between us I asked her to step back so I could close the door. She didn’t like that. She had a different agenda. She said my son needed her and he was calling for her. She began a one sided argument as to why I couldn’t close the door. It wasn’t until they heard yelling, from the old lady, that the staff decided to come to my rescue. It was an attempted escape from the old lady who talks to my kids like they are babies and carries around a doll talking to it like it’s her child. My grandmother thought she was crazy. The entire way to my mothers’ house my grandmother kept asking where she was going and who’s house she was going to. The entire 20 minute drive was a repeat dialogue.

Once we arrived my mother handed my grandmother and I each a glass of wine, we made a toast, and drank. My husband eventually showed up with his father and my other son. We sat down to enjoy a nice meal. It was just seven for dinner. During the meal there was a lot of talk, loud talk, debates, and sometimes disagreements. My grandmother sat quietly in her chair nibbling at what food she had on her plate we thought enjoying herself and not paying much attention to what was going on around her until it got too loud for her. Suddenly, out of nowhere we hear a loud, “Quiet! Quiet!” We were stunned and looked in the direction the loud voice was coming from. There sitting in her wheelchair my 93 year old grandmother was demanding order in her “courtroom”. She continued in a meek voice, “I would like to make a toast and wish everyone a healthy and happy year.” We all looked at her with a shocked look on our faces. She smiled. We all raised our glasses, “cheers”, and refilled my grandmothers’ glass. My mother and I agreed that the wine would help relax her.

She was obviously agitated by the conversation at the table and did her best to change the subject. There was a strong personality inside the small and weak body. We knew the trip alone had taken a lot out of her. It was planned to have had her there for a short time and have her back at the home in time for her nighttime meds. Even the short time she was gone seemed much for her to handle. It became a realization to my mother and I that it might be best not to take my grandmother out of the home anymore because it was too hard on her.

This is where it gets hard. It is the reality that she has reached another milestone in her life the life of a fragile old lady with dementia. This old lady is my grandmother and my friend. It’s reality. It’s life. As easy as we made it for her using her wheelchair versus her walker and keeping it a short visit it didn’t seem to matter much. Ultimately, it goes without saying, we want to do what is best for her. Her needs come first and we have to work around it. This also tells me that she feels safe where she lives and isn’t having episodes of wanting to “go home” as she did in the place she lived before the nursing home. It’s a relief to know that she is at a place that calms her and no doubt entertains her. Instead of wanting to “go home” she simply wants to know how her parents are doing. It’s just another step closer to “the end”. The end for her will be to reunite with my grandfather, her husband, and perhaps her parents and loved ones that she talks about so often. It will be restful and peaceful. As we all pray it will be when our end comes.

Until then I will continue to laugh with her and be entertained by her. And, hear her say over and over again that she is going to “shuffle off to Buffalo” whatever that means. I will continue to watch how she flirts with everyone around her and expresses herself to those she would rather not associate with. Play blackjack with her and polish her long nails that she always had professionally manicured as long as I could remember. Watch her as she views home movies of her great grandchildren at play and see her take great pride in them when they sing a song to her or tell her a story. In the end this is all that matters.