Dining with the damned or dinner time in a memory care facility.
After caring for my father in his own home for two years it was time to move him to a higher level of care. He was beginning to have episodes of bowel incontinence, wandering at night, becoming more confused. He was rapidly becoming a fall risk which made living in a two story house with hard tile floors problematic. It was time for placement in a full time memory care unit. I found a facility and moved him last October three minutes away from where I live. They provide excellent care, That being said - memory care units are not for the faint of heart particularly at dinner time.
I visit my dad at dinner time mostly because he is awake and we have an activity to share. Well actually he eats, I sit and converse with him. I am a retired psychotherapist and once worked with patients on a locked psychiatric ward but this is sad beyond belief. Dad sails through it serenely. Being 90 years old, having very poor hearing and poor eyesight is something of a blessing at these dining events.
I watch as the fellow across from dad slowly pours his soup on the table, takes a mouthful of water and spews it over the soup all the time rocking and moaning that he is dead, he needs to go and he can't go because he's dead. A woman at another table is clearly agitated She cries out like a lost child:
"Mommy, Mommy where are you? Please don't do this."
"I'll be good Mommy" "Really, Please Mommy"
"Granpa I can't find you, where are you?"
The therapist in my wonders what her history is and why it's replaying now. Staff moves through calmly redirecting, cleaning up, encouraging, reassuring individuals, dispensing medications and keeping residents from clashing. It's funny, sad, and taxing for me, but I still show up. Dad wouldn't notice if I didn't, he has no short term memory and I have to remind him of my name and my relationship to him. "Hi Dad. I'm Victoria. I'm your daughter".
Yep, it is time to have dinner with the damned.
Painting by Hieronymus Bosch
It's so difficult watching our parents move into the last phase of their life, knowing there is nothing we can do to stop it. It's all part of life, I know. You have given me food for thought today and now realize it was probably a blessing that I lost my mom within a 3 week span almost three years (where does the time go?) ago. Those three weeks were the hardest weeks I've ever had in my life, to watch her slip away from a massive heart attack and every complication you can imagine from many years of smoking and diabetes. I can't imagine what you have to deal with. God bless you and your dad!!!!
ReplyDelete