My Mother or Yours

It’s Saturday, the one day this week I could sleep in but forget that idea. I’ve been awake since five. Ever since my visit to the Lake Country Lodge yesterday, Friday February 1st, my head has been spinning, my heart aching. I tried to push the mute button just like I do when a commercial comes on TV because I can’t stand the noise or the images I see. But there is no remote. I can’t do that with me.

I arrived at the lodge at approximately 11:30 a.m. - about the time I usually go to help my Mom with her dinner. I found her in the dining room sitting in front of the TV. She was slumped over in her chair, not unusual for her since she has a crooked spine, leans to one side and has a wheel chair that doesn’t properly fit her. Her chair was tilted back to about half way as far as it will go and her legs were dangling in mid air. There was a white chalky trail starting from her eyes to the bottom of her cheeks were the tears were running down her face. When I knelt down beside her, took her hand in mine and asked her how she was doing, her voice became agitated and she started to shake.

So what’s the big deal you might ask? Here’s what the big deal is.

My mother is 86 years old and on some days suffers from dementia. She cannot move or think or speak as fast or as loud as she once could. In fact she has a voice that is barely audible. This DOES NOT mean that she is deaf, that she is mentally challenged, that she cannot think, that her needs are nonexistent, or that she should be treated like a 9 month old child.

My mother’s mind doesn’t function as well as it once used to and sometimes her words get scrambled but she does have words and like any other human being her words deserve to be heard. Only, you might have to bend down, put your ear next to her and take the time to hear them. And if you took the time to do this you might realize that there is an adult stuck inside what now function’s as a child’s body. And hopefully this realization would eliminate the tendency you have of being condescending in your way of interacting with her. My mother might not talk very loud but she can hear a pin drop on the floor. You do not need to raise your voice at her or to speak to “her” like she’s a child.

And when I say “her” I speak not only for my mother but for all other mother and fathers like her who are living in our care facilities. And when I say “you” I don’t mean only the people who are doing the hands on day to day care, but all of you who are part of the care our seniors are getting including owners, facilitators, board members, administrators, volunteers and staff. Wake up people! Don’t be like the teenager who thinks he’s invisible and says “it won’t happen to me”. Because you know what, you may not be there now but one day you just might be. And you better hope someone out there is willing to stand up for you and is awake and paying attention to your care and needs.

Why does my head keep spinning today, 24 hours after I’ve been to visit my Mom? Because I still have images of her tilted back in her wheel chair with her legs dangling in mid air because no one thought of putting the foot rests on her chair to rest her feet on. Because no one thought of putting the chair down so her feet could reach the floor. Because no one thought that her chair doesn’t fit her properly because there’s only one Occupational Therapist for the whole Okanagan region and getting a proper chair is a process which takes months and months. Because no one thought that being left in that position would cut the circulation in her legs and in a very short time make her very uncomfortable. What in the world happened to common sense?

My head keeps spinning because the care aide on duty did not show any concern when I politely explained that I appreciated the fact that they varied Mom’s sitting position but that she shouldn’t be left with her feet dangling in mid air as this caused her great discomfort. My head is spinning because when I took my mother to her room she was noticeably agitated and frustrated.

When I finally managed to calm her down enough to quit shaking and to speak me she said she needed to go to the bathroom. It took me half a minute to get her there but even that wasn’t quick enough. She could no longer hold on and as I was transferring her from her wheel chair to the toilet she urinated on the floor. And as I sat her on the toiled she went a whole bunch more. This means she needed to go a long time ago and she had been holding on. But here’s the sad part.

My Mom is not incontinent. In fact she has very good bladder control. Her problem is not holding on but that she cannot get to the bathroom on her own. And if no one takes the time to bend down and ask her she cannot make herself heard. It gets sadder.

When I toileted Mom the diaper she was wearing was so heavy and soaked with urine that it fell to the floor. This indicates very clearly that not only did she drastically need to go to the washroom now but that she needed to go before and no one had taken her and she had been sitting in her urine for I don’t know how long. And here’s the saddest part of all.

As my mother sat on the toiled and I washed her tear stained face, she said to me. “I have never been so ashamed in my life.” And my head is spinning because I can still hear her words and I can still see my prim and proper mother who always took pride in her appearance sitting on the toilet with mismatched dirty clothes and a dejected look on her face. My head is spinning because my mother has a closet full of beautiful clothes we personally wash for her and she knows when she has to go to the bathroom. And because it’s not the first time it’s happened and because there is no reason for it to happen.

There is no reason for our elderly to feel exasperated in the care they receive. Granted my mother’s eyes tear up on their own because her eyes are very sensitive to light but there’s a difference between those tears and tears of frustration, anger and indignation.

My head spins and my heart aches because I think back to the three months I was in a cast from hip to toes and I had to ask someone to come and assist me to the bathroom. I can recall only too well how hard that was and I didn’t have had to wet myself before someone came to my rescue. My head spins and my heart aches because none of this stuff that is happening sits well with me.

My head spins because I’m not one to look for and focus on the negative or on things that don’t work. In fact I’m a professional counsellor and in my work I strive to find ways to empower people and to bring into the light their uniqueness in who they are and what they do. And my head spins because I am not one who likes to complain, in fact I rarely do so and yet this is the second time I lose my cool and rightfully so. And today I sit here and write this letter not only feeling like I need to but because I have a right and perhaps even a duty to - and not only for my mother but for other mothers and perhaps for what might be my care one day too.

My head is spinning because for the most part there is good staff who works in this home and some of them are absolute models of what caring and compassion should be. In fact there are two of them who come to mind who are so special in the care they deliver that I think every new member who gets hired on should have to train with them to experience what it’s like to deliver genuine heartfelt care. When those two, or people like them, are on shift, the whole place runs smoothly. Not only are the residents happy, smiling and content but so are the family members who visit them.

I have no doubt that it is a demanding job to look after people who are dependent on your care for all their needs. In fact I know how demanding it is as I took care of my mother in my own home for over two years. No it’s not easy and it requires a lot of care and dedication. And if you work in a home for the elderly you shouldn’t even be hired unless you are there to do what you love. If there’s no loving in the caring, if common sense has gone out the door where does that leave my mother, or your mother, or you and I when our turn comes?

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