We are our own reality show.

My mom in her backyard yesterday, feeding the birds, which she does about 4 times a day. She totters out, carefully puts in approximately 3 tablespoons of birdseed, and totters back in. This is where the next fall will be, mark my words.

I have been alluding to another parental move. Here are the details.  It's all quite ridiculous.

Some of you remember that 11 months ago we moved my parents to an assisted living facility in nearby Washington DC. It took the combined efforts of my siblings, my husband, my own kids, and assorted nieces and nephews to pack up the house where my parents had lived for 40 years, sort through a frightening amount of stuff, and settle them into their new place. My parents must never, ever find out about the dumpster that we rented and placed in the driveway after they were gone.

They never really settled in to assisted living. And this didn't surprise us, not really. My father is shy. My mother is friendly but socially inept and prone to providing inappropriate commentary in a never-ending loop with a voice as clear and carrying as the bells of Notre Dame.

They had no friends there. They made no friends there. My mother can't hear what anyone says, and her dementia is more and more obvious.

They never figured out how to manage the dining room. They didn't understand the seating arrangements. My mother demanded table changes. Service was slow and the wait staff were often rushed and impatient. It was agony to eat down there with my parents and imagine them navigating it on their own most days.

The activities, the lectures, the chair aerobics, the little concerts--they never went. My father wanted very much to see the nightly movies but my mother would tire after 10 minutes of not being able to follow the plot and so they would shuffle back upstairs. And it was no use suggesting that my father stay down and enjoy the movie and my mother go up and read the newspaper, because my parents are inseparable.

We were never able to let their private aides go. My father would forget to use his walker and would fall. Or he would try to manage by himself in the bathroom. They would never think to call the front desk and ask for help. My mother refused to allow the nurses to administer her medication, so the private aide would coax her into taking the right pill at the right time. The private aide drove them to their doctor appointments because my parents couldn't manage to reserve the shared car and driver ahead of time. The one time they used it, my mother was outraged that they had to wait 30 minutes for the car to arrive after the end of the appointment. She couldn't understand the concept of a shared system of transportation.

It turns out my parents need constant supervision.

I am giving you a very abbreviated version of events here, and believe me, we tried everything we could think of to make this work. But in the end, the only affordable solution was to move them back to their old house and negotiate with one of the aides to become a live-in. We have installed a stair-lift for my father. We had the bathroom remodeled so that it is safer.

We moved them back home last week.

Old people should always live in a house at the top of a hill, yes?

My mother already fell and broke a rib. By tripping on my father's walker, as I mentioned in yesterday's post.

Why has my life become so ridiculous? That question is rhetorical and there is no need to address it.

Swear to God, no dog posts and no eldercare posts after this. Instead, I'll borrow someone's baby and become a mommy blogger.

Comments

[Pickles & Dimes]

Wow. What an amazing (and amazingly stressful, I imagine) time for you and your family. I'm so happy you got a live-in aide for them. I bet your parents are so relieved to be back in familiar surroundings.

Although I am wondering if they noticed anything missing that had "accidentally" found its way into the dumpster. My mom would know *instantly* if we threw away anything of hers.

I'm also really sorry to hear about your dogs.

[Tessie]

This is SO HARD. I know you said no more eldercare posts, but I wonder if you would address any fear you and your siblings have about your OWN eldercare, based on your experiences. I'm only in my 30s, but I think about this all the time. Is that weird? Well, I do.

[Swistle]

Just as people on the edge of parenthood read all the blogs of people who are pregnant and/or have newborns, I avidly read each installment of eldercare. You're doing something I'm doing next.

[LMR]

It's like I'm seeing my future. My dad is nearly 76 and has serious balance problems that are only going to get worse due to a genetic problem. And yet, he refused to use a walker and would only use a cane until he fell and broke his arm. Now he uses a walker and refuses to use a wheelchair despite the fact that he fell (again) and broke his (other) arm simply walking into my parents' (one floor, no stairs) condo. Someday they are going to need assisted living and I'll be greatly surprised if it works out because they have exactly the same dynamic as your parents including dad's shyness and mom's social but totally inappropriate personality. Think I'll just skip the assisted living step and pay out the nose for in-home care someday. Sigh.

[Anne]

As much as I was dreading yesterday's post, so have I been avidly awaiting the one about the details of the move back home. Well done on the clear description of the problems encountered when a bad match is made--your comments are a good starting point for anyone considering alternate living arrangements for their elderly parents. You've talked before about how CCH was probably not the best choice for your parents, especially given their joined-at-the-hip relationship and the fact that they evidently needed more assistance all around than was provided there.

As you know, my mom also lives in something called assisted living, but the set-up is markedly different . . . a secured facility, all meals provided, just bedrooms for residents, few residents but large day program, no choice but to have staff manage medication, and so forth. It's really more like a nursing home for higher-functioning elders, minus the 24/7 RNs.

When I looked at Riderwood Village (a stepped retirement community)--a huge complex of high-rise buildings--before Dad passed away, I remember thinking that living there wouldn't be any easier than living at home for my parents (especially Mom, who was getting more and more confused), maybe even harder if I factored in the becoming familiar with everything element. Oh, sure, the apartments were lovely and there were all kinds of activities and sports-related stuff, but their needs were more like your folks are now. It would have been a disaster.

For my mom, her move has worked out well, but I'm pretty sure she'd still be home if Dad was alive. I'm glad your folks are back home and away from CCH, which clearly wasn't the right place for them. Hopefully, they can have some peaceful months/years coming up, with no falls, broken bones, ER trips and the like.

One thing is certain. There is never a dull moment in eldercare-land, is there? And everything is just so . . . so inevitable.

[Anne]

I just want to add that the picture of your mom with the bird feeder in the back yard is so sweet. I laughed out loud when I read that she feeds the birds a few tablespoons of seed three or four times a day. Does she forget that she's already been out there? Does she not remember what it is to fill the bird feeder? Is she concerned about using too much seed? Hilarious, demented behavior, with which I'm well familiar. Rock on, Mrs. T.!

[Heidi]

Are we to assume the full-time private aide is not of color?

This may all seem so crazy to have gone through, but I bet your parents are so happy to be back home. (Remember to put wedge blocks under their feet when they stand on the hill.) And just think, the tough clearing-out process has already been done.

[Karenth]

You are such good children. Really. I thought I was a good daughter for some time. Then I thought I was a "good enough" daughter. Now I almost don't care quite a bit of the time.

There are only three of us to handle Mom and her dramatic golden years, each of us living a thousand miles from the other. The poor brother who can drive to Mom in under five hours gets leaned on a LOT.

And I lied back there, when I said I didn't care.

Don't stop writing about your . . . life. Some days it's the brightest moment someone else may have!

[Laura]

I like your eldercare posts. We are in a respite between my dad and mom. My mom is okay but sometimes I can see where we are headed. You have a great way of writing about the situation.
Honest, funny, and with love. Thank you.

[Glenna]

Oh, please do continue posting about the eldercare things (and the pet stuff too). My mom is already underway on the dementia trip, and my father is physically fragile. They too are joined at the hip, but antisocial about anyone else. When I went to visit last--500 miles away--my father fell in the bathroom because either he tripped on a bathrug (little slidey rag rugs) or because he had put his foot on the sink to put powder on his toes. Or because he got dizzy, which he won't admit to. In any case, he broke just a toe, but for a while he was unable to get up, so I called the ambulance so the hospital could see if something had caused the fall. Although he was lying there, it never crossed their minds that they should call an ambulance and my mother thanked me over and over for thinking of something to do. Really they should not be on their own, but when I asked them to move to VA to live near us in a little apartment/condo, they were horrified. They want to live where they've always lived, surrounded by their crap. Sigh. (I would so love to get a dumpster for them.) So see--I NEED you to post about your parents--you and your sibs are my heroes.

[Margaret]

Babies--they are easier, yes? And not as upsetting or depressing. I have been there with you and will be there again; my parents are 82 and 79. I'm not looking forward to it. But I love them and will try to do what is right and best for them, just as you are doing. Much love.

[kris (lower case)]

i have already told my son that when his father and i get old he is in no way responsible for us and he can visit us if he wants but he certainly doesn't have to. i am hoping euthanasia becomes legal by the time i need it. that may sound awful but it is exactly how i feel. this is no country for old people.

[Mary]

My parents are 85 and 78, and I find your eldercare posts far more interesting than reading about babies. My parents, thankfully, are still healthy, though my dad is getting very fragile. I really wish they'd move out of their huge house while they can still make the choice, but they won't even discuss it. Hang in there, and please keep writing. Hugs to you, if you accept them from strangers.

[Amy]

No, no, no! No Mommy Blog!
Seriously, I think I can speak for others too in saying that we come to you blog because we care about you and are interested in your life. If that means dogs and eldercare, than that's what we'll read about. Just keep writing about your life, with your wonderful sense of humor and entertaining style - whenever you have time or something to share - and we will happily lap up every word.

[Leah]

What Swistle said. Though, I have a spare baby if you need one.

[FC]

Must. Email. You.

[David]

My mother, a widow, checked herself into assisted living (with our guidance of course)hated it and moved back to her home. A few years later, she went to another assisted living facility, hated it and moved back to her home.

I know what you are going thru.

[blackbird]

I'd say it's unbelievable, except...

[Pam L]

If we could have found a live-in that my Dad wouldn't have thrown out , he would have been better at home, I guess,I don't know. Like kids they surprise you with each new problem that you never knew you'd have to figure out. The problem was, after living alone for 16 years, he couldn't figure out why that woman (day aide) wouldn't leave and he would order her out. Then as soon as she left he would go for a walk and either get lost or fall down. He only took advantage of the activities at the asstd living place when one of his private aides made him go down to the activity room. He liked the sing alongs somewhat. All they really want is to be in their own homes, and I probably will too.

[Cathy S.]

You are very good children. And you are proof that there is no cookie cutter approach to elder care (or baby care for that matter.) As for babies, tell those girls to get cracking on that! We had this weird conversation with youngest son and his fiance last night triggered by the arrival of a cousin's baby that hasn't been named after 48 hours because the parents can't agree on a name. Oh, that poor baby. Anyway, we were talking baby names with youngest and his girlfriend. It was fun thinking about grandbabies, then, I had to pinch myself and say quickly, "But, not right now!"

[Cathy S.]

I collected two more jokes for you and now I can't remember them. Wait, it's all coming back now.

A pirate walks into a bar and he has a steering wheel attached to his pants. He has a few drinks and gets ready to leave and the bar tender says, "Ok, I have to ask. What's with the steering wheel on your pants." The pirate says, "Argh. It's driving me nuts."

Shoot now I forgot the second one.

[Cathy s.]

Husband reminded me of the second one. And I send you it while driving on the Interstate in Georgia. Isn't our modern life amazing sometimes? Here is is:

What did the fish say when he swam into the wall? Dam!

[Dawn]

As crazy-making as this must all feel for you, it sounds like you made the right choice. If they need constant supervision ANYWAY, they might as well be in a home where they're comfortable and happy.

[MsCellania]

Thank God you didn't sell their house. You would be up shit creek.
I could loan you a 10 year old. Low maintenance but eats a lot. Still gets up at 6:30 so you'd have plenty of time to blog.
Are you guys taking shifts checking on them? Which Aide did you snag? I am finding this interesting but painful reading, as this will be my life in not-too-distant future.