Monday, November 25, 2013
Thanksgivingkah
It is strange to have both Thanksgiving and Chanukah occurring at the same time. In fact, this won't happen again for 77,000 years. Stranger still, is the feeling I get when we celebrate a holiday. I am happy to spend the time with our children and sometimes with our grandchildren, too. But I always mourn the loss of the valued older generation who are alive and yet unable to join us. The celebration is tainted by my knowledge that they are part of an institution's definition of a holiday rather than being surrounded by loved ones and long-held traditions. I wish it could be different. I wish for just one more time to have those older people revel in the family that they helped to create and bask in the glow of respect and love. I wish...
Monday, October 28, 2013
Dental Dilemma Part II
My brother and I decided to go forward with the dental surgery (with fingers crossed). Mom was accompanied to the surgeon's office by a very caring and genteel aide from the nursing home who was able to keep Mom calm and in good spirits even though she hadn't eaten breakfast. My brother and I met them at the dental clinic and finally met with the dental team. After much conversation and deliberation we decided to only extract the six broken teeth and leave Mom without a set of dentures.
Mom was compliant--she sat dutifully for X-rays and marveled at all the "fancy" equipment--she was a perfect patient! She went back to the nursing home and was in relatively better spirits than I would ever be after six extractions. According to the nursing home nurses she is managing to eat, albeit a little less than usual, and not complaining about pain (remarkable!)
So now, here is where my shallowness comes to the surface. We made a good medical decision with the dentists who said that she has no active infections and may be fine for many years with just her remaining teeth. BUT, I can't handle seeing her without teeth! She looks broken, or like a homeless person and I am waking in the night pondering this. Ideally I would like her to have been fitted for dentures. Ideally she would be able to adjust to them and actually wear them. Ideally she would look more like the Mother that I've known for 63 years. I see the broken teeth as a symbol of the other changes in her that are not visible. I see the ravages of time and our inability to rewrite the script.
I see the dental dilemma as yet another battle lost. Did we do right by our mother? I hope so. Of course we can always have the rest of her teeth extracted and try dentures at some point. But for now I need to stop being shallow. Stop feeling self-conscious or guilty about her missing teeth. I need to focus on the reasons for the decision and learn to live with it.
Mom was compliant--she sat dutifully for X-rays and marveled at all the "fancy" equipment--she was a perfect patient! She went back to the nursing home and was in relatively better spirits than I would ever be after six extractions. According to the nursing home nurses she is managing to eat, albeit a little less than usual, and not complaining about pain (remarkable!)
So now, here is where my shallowness comes to the surface. We made a good medical decision with the dentists who said that she has no active infections and may be fine for many years with just her remaining teeth. BUT, I can't handle seeing her without teeth! She looks broken, or like a homeless person and I am waking in the night pondering this. Ideally I would like her to have been fitted for dentures. Ideally she would be able to adjust to them and actually wear them. Ideally she would look more like the Mother that I've known for 63 years. I see the broken teeth as a symbol of the other changes in her that are not visible. I see the ravages of time and our inability to rewrite the script.
I see the dental dilemma as yet another battle lost. Did we do right by our mother? I hope so. Of course we can always have the rest of her teeth extracted and try dentures at some point. But for now I need to stop being shallow. Stop feeling self-conscious or guilty about her missing teeth. I need to focus on the reasons for the decision and learn to live with it.
Friday, October 4, 2013
The Dental Dilemma
Mom has always hated going to the dentist and in her later years she really neglected her teeth. She used to have a partial dental plate that filled in the gaps, but she recently lost several of her teeth that were holding the plate in place and now the plate was lost at the nursing home. She presently looks awful! She really looks like someone who has nobody to care for her and it breaks my heart. I arranged for a dentist to see her at the nursing home and was told that she needs to see an oral surgeon at the hospital. Eventually, after the extractions, new dentures would be fitted. I tried to explain all of this to mom last week when I visited during lunch time.
So today, I received a phone call from the nursing home's social worker who asked me to calm mom down and try to convince her to go with the aide for the dental appointment. I was met by a lot of yelling and accusations about my lack of compassion, as well as, my inability to remember that mom had just visited the dentist herself. Of course, she mentioned the dentist we used to see, who has been dead for the last 30 years! She then asked me to just leave her alone and not bother her with extra nonsense--she's fine; eating okay; and just doesn't want to go. I was able to convince her to go to the dentist and we would discuss the next step. Luckily, she went.
Now the dilemma comes up. She will need all of the rest of her teeth removed and will be without teeth for several weeks until the dentures can be fitted. If she doesn't have the extractions, she may be able to eat for quite awhile, but some day she may have an infection in one of the remaining teeth and then would need emergency dental surgery and high doses of antibiotics. Even if she gets the dentures she may not be able to adjust to them, and may not be able to ever eat solid food again. So, what to do?
My brother ponders leaving her alone, worried about the end result of the extractions. I worry about the possible infections. There is no easy answer, but I'm leaning on the surgery. Is it because I am vain for her? Is it because I hate having her look so broken? I really can't answer that today. I only know that making the least lousy choice is really hard to do.
So today, I received a phone call from the nursing home's social worker who asked me to calm mom down and try to convince her to go with the aide for the dental appointment. I was met by a lot of yelling and accusations about my lack of compassion, as well as, my inability to remember that mom had just visited the dentist herself. Of course, she mentioned the dentist we used to see, who has been dead for the last 30 years! She then asked me to just leave her alone and not bother her with extra nonsense--she's fine; eating okay; and just doesn't want to go. I was able to convince her to go to the dentist and we would discuss the next step. Luckily, she went.
Now the dilemma comes up. She will need all of the rest of her teeth removed and will be without teeth for several weeks until the dentures can be fitted. If she doesn't have the extractions, she may be able to eat for quite awhile, but some day she may have an infection in one of the remaining teeth and then would need emergency dental surgery and high doses of antibiotics. Even if she gets the dentures she may not be able to adjust to them, and may not be able to ever eat solid food again. So, what to do?
My brother ponders leaving her alone, worried about the end result of the extractions. I worry about the possible infections. There is no easy answer, but I'm leaning on the surgery. Is it because I am vain for her? Is it because I hate having her look so broken? I really can't answer that today. I only know that making the least lousy choice is really hard to do.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
5774
Tonight marks the beginning of a New Year on the Jewish calendar. Tables will be set with fine china, the good silver and lovely tablecloths as families join to wish each other L'Shanah Tovah.
I will remember my grandfather wishing all of us a Gut Yomtov as my mother hurriedly prepared the matzoh balls, chicken and kugel that was usually part of our holiday. I remember waiting for my father to call about the store's closing so we could all finally eat the meal. It brings me joy to remember her busy in her kitchen--capable, loving and anxious to please the family with her cooking--it is from her that I learned to enjoy the creative process of putting food on the table for a family. And by extension, I think I was able to bring that into our home, so now our sons are eager to prepare meals for friends and family. They share that same joy of kitchen creation that their grandmother had.
The passage of time has changed that landscape. Mom hasn't cooked a meal for the family in many, many years. She was an honored guest at our holiday celebrations for many years and often brought one of her specialty items (usually the potato kugel) to our house. But in my mind's eye, Mom is shopping, dicing, cooking and stirring happily--these are the images that give me the most pleasure.
It is the way I will always wish to think of her, rather than the way she is in the present. I wish all who meet her now could have known her before. I suppose it doesn't much matter--I remember and I will preserve that image forever.
I will remember my grandfather wishing all of us a Gut Yomtov as my mother hurriedly prepared the matzoh balls, chicken and kugel that was usually part of our holiday. I remember waiting for my father to call about the store's closing so we could all finally eat the meal. It brings me joy to remember her busy in her kitchen--capable, loving and anxious to please the family with her cooking--it is from her that I learned to enjoy the creative process of putting food on the table for a family. And by extension, I think I was able to bring that into our home, so now our sons are eager to prepare meals for friends and family. They share that same joy of kitchen creation that their grandmother had.
The passage of time has changed that landscape. Mom hasn't cooked a meal for the family in many, many years. She was an honored guest at our holiday celebrations for many years and often brought one of her specialty items (usually the potato kugel) to our house. But in my mind's eye, Mom is shopping, dicing, cooking and stirring happily--these are the images that give me the most pleasure.
It is the way I will always wish to think of her, rather than the way she is in the present. I wish all who meet her now could have known her before. I suppose it doesn't much matter--I remember and I will preserve that image forever.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Exhausted
I saw my mom and uncle yesterday. Nothing has changed in either of them which is a blessing. Yet, I am totally exhausted. I'm not wishing for any change because that could spell a major decline in either ones health, but I wish someone else could shoulder being the person in charge once in awhile.
My uncle says that the tedious routine each day is just mind-boggling. I see it the same way, but from my perspective. I have been visiting him in the nursing home for over 5 years and we virtually repeat the same routine each time I go. Only now, it includes the rituals that have developed since my mother is now a resident. I am easily bored and although I try desperately to alter the conversation or minutiae, we basically follow a script for each visit. The only thing that changes is their ability to respond to me.
I am just exhausted! The trip to the Bronx, the parking, the actual visit, the heavy feeling in my heart when I leave them ( because of the sadness on their faces when I say I must go home), the feeling that I'm just not doing enough, and the trip home including the lane closures on the bridge are all wearing away at my stamina. I don't blame them. I visit because I want to. I visit out of love and devotion and the desire to provide some remembrance of the life they both had before the nursing home. I visit because I generally feel better after doing the mitzvah. But I am exhausted.
My uncle says that the tedious routine each day is just mind-boggling. I see it the same way, but from my perspective. I have been visiting him in the nursing home for over 5 years and we virtually repeat the same routine each time I go. Only now, it includes the rituals that have developed since my mother is now a resident. I am easily bored and although I try desperately to alter the conversation or minutiae, we basically follow a script for each visit. The only thing that changes is their ability to respond to me.
I am just exhausted! The trip to the Bronx, the parking, the actual visit, the heavy feeling in my heart when I leave them ( because of the sadness on their faces when I say I must go home), the feeling that I'm just not doing enough, and the trip home including the lane closures on the bridge are all wearing away at my stamina. I don't blame them. I visit because I want to. I visit out of love and devotion and the desire to provide some remembrance of the life they both had before the nursing home. I visit because I generally feel better after doing the mitzvah. But I am exhausted.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
How Many More?
I went to visit mom and uncle a couple of days ago. I found mom eating her lunch but struggling to chew. She didn't explain, but I finally found out that her dental bridge is missing ( it probably got lonely for all the hearing aids). She also has several broken teeth, so of course she's having trouble eating. She didn't remember what happened to the dental bridge, and the nurse was absolutely NO HELP! She told me that she asked mom about her teeth--did she have any pain, etc., and was told to leave her alone. So, that's as far as she went with that. She didn't call us, didn't schedule a dental visit, or even think much of the entire thing. So much for involved and caring personnel.
I now asked that a dentist see her and plan to fix the teeth that can be saved and make new dental bridges and/or dentures. I would like to be at the home the day the dentist gets there, but I'm pretty sure nobody will tell me when that will be.
The appearance of my mother with broken teeth and missing dentures just broke my heart. She looks like a homeless person who has no one to care for her. She looks BROKEN. I know it's only teeth, and she always hated going to the dentist and avoided it whenever possible, but it fits in with the question I keep asking. How many more indignities will need to be suffered? How many more times will the essence of who my mother always was be eroded away by the combined assault of dementia and the impersonal element of institutional living? In themselves the teeth are a small piece of the changes mom has endured and we have been forced to witness, but it's a visible sign of all the hidden tangles that now mark my mother's life.
Her teeth may be replaced artificially, but the hole in my heart will stay forever.
I now asked that a dentist see her and plan to fix the teeth that can be saved and make new dental bridges and/or dentures. I would like to be at the home the day the dentist gets there, but I'm pretty sure nobody will tell me when that will be.
The appearance of my mother with broken teeth and missing dentures just broke my heart. She looks like a homeless person who has no one to care for her. She looks BROKEN. I know it's only teeth, and she always hated going to the dentist and avoided it whenever possible, but it fits in with the question I keep asking. How many more indignities will need to be suffered? How many more times will the essence of who my mother always was be eroded away by the combined assault of dementia and the impersonal element of institutional living? In themselves the teeth are a small piece of the changes mom has endured and we have been forced to witness, but it's a visible sign of all the hidden tangles that now mark my mother's life.
Her teeth may be replaced artificially, but the hole in my heart will stay forever.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
The Great Hearing Aid Mystery
About two months ago my mother's hearing aids were "lost." After she diligently handed them to the nurse in the evening, they mysteriously disappeared. We scheduled an appointment with the audiologist and new hearing aids were made--covered by rather expensive insurance. The nursing home's director promised to repay the $360 for the insurance and I brought the new aids up to Mom. When I asked for the old case back, lo and behold, there were her old hearing aids! A great bruhaha developed as I made it clear that I was not pleased with the handling of valuables by the staff.
Three weeks ago, my uncle's right hearing aid disappeared. It had also been given to the nurse for safekeeping overnight, and somehow left the building on its own! Once again I spoke to the nurses, aids and finally, the director, who promised to repay the insurance money (that still hasn't been paid for Mom), and the replacement cost of my uncle's lost aid. The nursing home scheduled an appointment with the audiologist. Then, my uncle was hospitalized. When he returned to the home, I received a call from the audiologist requesting payment for the hearing aid that would be ordered. Long story shorter, now the nursing home director is backpedaling and told the audiologist that he has a fiduciary responsibility to not spend the $2000 replacement fee for the hearing aid. So, this is where we are now. My uncle still has not received his hearing aid; I refuse to lay out the money because I know that the nursing home will never repay us; Mom's insurance money has not been reimbursed; and I am losing my mind. (or what is left of it!)
Why should keeping hearing aids safe overnight be such a challenge? Why won't the nursing home take responsibility for their shortcomings? Why should old people be robbed of one important sense due to shoddy practices? Why am I spending too many of my waking hours chasing after hearing aids and the money needed to replace them? Why? My mother used to answer such questions thus:
"Because "y" is a crooked letter". That never made sense to me before, and it doesn't now.
Three weeks ago, my uncle's right hearing aid disappeared. It had also been given to the nurse for safekeeping overnight, and somehow left the building on its own! Once again I spoke to the nurses, aids and finally, the director, who promised to repay the insurance money (that still hasn't been paid for Mom), and the replacement cost of my uncle's lost aid. The nursing home scheduled an appointment with the audiologist. Then, my uncle was hospitalized. When he returned to the home, I received a call from the audiologist requesting payment for the hearing aid that would be ordered. Long story shorter, now the nursing home director is backpedaling and told the audiologist that he has a fiduciary responsibility to not spend the $2000 replacement fee for the hearing aid. So, this is where we are now. My uncle still has not received his hearing aid; I refuse to lay out the money because I know that the nursing home will never repay us; Mom's insurance money has not been reimbursed; and I am losing my mind. (or what is left of it!)
Why should keeping hearing aids safe overnight be such a challenge? Why won't the nursing home take responsibility for their shortcomings? Why should old people be robbed of one important sense due to shoddy practices? Why am I spending too many of my waking hours chasing after hearing aids and the money needed to replace them? Why? My mother used to answer such questions thus:
"Because "y" is a crooked letter". That never made sense to me before, and it doesn't now.
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