Grandma's Smiling? Hide the pills.

When my mom was younger her Grandpa (her mom's father) committed suicide while living in a nursing home. Everyone there who saw him on that day said he was in the best of moods - happier than most of them have ever seen him. Those that saw him just minutes before, walking down the hallway, said he had a special glow about him. It was as though he was truly happy and found peace with his decision.

My grandma will be 89 years old this February. My grandpa, her husband, passed away a week before my 16th birthday - 15 years ago. I remember watching Grandma at the funeral; this wasn't how she pictured things - losing her husband at just 72 years of age - her husband that she was still madly in love with. Oh the pictures we have of their life together - trips, parties in their basement with friends (after their 8 kids were tucked into bed), church plays, Halloween costumes, all the trips abroad, and so many more. Between then and now all of my grandma's brothers have passed away. She keeps saying, "I wasn't supposed to live this long. 10 years without my Kenny. And now all my brothers are gone. Whenever He wants to take me, I am ready."

For the past few years Grandma has been taking turns living with a few of her children. None of which want to put her in a nursing home or an assisted care facility. She seems to have found a permanant home in Arizona with my Aunt Sue. I think most in my family would agree that it doesn't seem to matter where Grandma is living, she will have something to complain about. And of course, once I reach 89 years of age I do believe I have every right to let everyone know just how it is I'm feeling.

It rained hard here in Illinois all weekend long. Roads were flooding, causing people to use boats to get places. After spending all day Saturday driving or walking in the rain I settled down for the night and had the most vivid dream.

I was sitting at my mom's house alone looking out the window - watching the rain come down and the water rushing down the street. There was a bridge going over the street - a tall bridge for a highway. Then, all of a sudden I see Grandma riding a bike along the water filled road. She's going quickly and despite being 89 years old she's smiling and making it look like it's taking her no effort at all. She stops the bike at the bottom of the bridge and walks up the bridge to the center - all the while smiling and almost laughing in the pouring rain. With a big smile on her face she climbs over the bridge, faces out and down, and jumps.

After telling my mom about this dream yesterday she reminded me of the story of her grandpa and decided she should call her sister and warn her. "If mom's mood seems to improve and she seems actually happy - you should probably remove all sharp objects and count her pills." My mom said this with a sort of laugh, but I wonder if she did call her sister to talk?

Grandma Update

My mom took Grandma out of the nursing home Sunday morning. Before the doctor even showed up. Things were cleared through the nurse. Both my grandma and mom are feeling much better. My mom thought she might actually be able to fall asleep at night again. There's nurses and therapists coming to the house to work with Grandma...so things should be too hard on my mom. That and the kids (my brother's kids...who my mom watches) starts daycare next week so it'll be less days of babysitting as well.

Nursing Homes

Nursing Homes suck. When I was in HS I spent some time volunteering in a nursing home close to my house. I would go and do arts and crafts with the folks, talk to them (or rather listen to them), and wheel some outside for fresh air. I remember being there awhile and then being taken to the Third Floor. Ah, the Third Floor where you can hear the screams of the patients who don't know where they are, what year it is, or who the hell is that person trying to calm them down before you even get out of the elevator. They kept these patients on the Third Floor and after more than 6 months of volunteering you were given the chance to meet them. I clearly remember one women who kept asking me to call her mother and explain that the bus was going to be late. She was so desperate, so intense, in her pleas to me. She needed me to call and explain why she wasn't home yet. Her mother must be so worried. I finally asked her for the number, her mother's name, I calmed her down, and then went to go call. I will never forget my first experience with someone with memory loss. And then over 10 years later Mike's paternal grandfather is diagnosed with dementia and 2 years after that his maternal grandfather has systems of dementia. I always thought it would be worse for the caregivers, for those people who are trying to calm them down and the screaming patients have no idea who the hell they are. But then I would look in Mike's grandpa's eyes as he was trying to remember. He was such a cheerful old man, even when he didn't know who I was. He'd say to us, "I think I know you, don't I?" "Ah, yes..." But in his eyes I swear I could see pain, he knew he didn't remember and I think that must hurt something awful. So not only does dementia/Alzheimer's/Memory Loss, whatever it is you want to call it, hurt the caregivers, but those people must feel so lost. And empty.
Now, my grandma, who's 86 years old has a mind that's sharper than most 50 year olds. My grandma, who's body is failing, is alert and aware of everything going on around her.
Earlier last week she needed an emergency surgery on a hernia that was blocking her bowels. This blockage caused poison to seep into her system, which caused her to vomit, which is why my mom took her into the doctor who discovered the problem. Her surgery went well, she recovered well enough to be released to a nursing home for physical therapy. She's at the nursing home I used to volunteer at...just 1 mile from my mom and dad's house. And she is so miserable. And my mom is miserable every time she leaves her there. Grandma called my mom last night and said, "Get me out of this hell hole." Turns out the roomie grandma was bunking with did not want to be there anyway. And was screaming and yelling at the nurses. So my mom went, walked my grandma around, and the nurses found another room for Grandma. And grandma stayed another night. I went to visit today with my mom - the place is horrible. I heard two nurses talking about how they weren't going to do anything today (as they were starting their shift). I found out my grandma hasn't seen a physical therapist since Friday morning (it's Saturday afternoon) and probably wouldn't see one until Monday. So my mom encouraged Grandma to do her exercises. As I was looking around I saw many people just sitting in their wheel chairs. Drab walls, sullen faces, it was just awful. My mom keeps talking about Getting Her Out. I just have to Get Her Out of There, she'll say. And then the talk of finding people to come to the house, the therapists, doctors, nurses, etc. I have a feeling Grandma may be home tomorrow after the doctor visits her. (That's another thing, she went there Friday morning and won't see a doctor until Sunday afternoon.) My mom was supposed to watch Quinn this week for me while the babysitter is on a cruise...but I know if Grandma comes home that won't be able to happen. And I assured my mom I'm fine with that - we can figure out another way...she's free to be with Grandma if she needs to be.
All of this as my grandma has been thinking of moving out of my mom and dad's house and into assisted living. Not a good introduction to this type of life, for sure. Of course there's no way my mom, or Grandma, would choose this place. There's so many better places. And it's all so expensive, luckily Grandma's got some cash - she gets about $2000/month from the interest on her investments and social security...but to stay somewhere it's about $150-$200/day! That's close to $5,000 a month! She does have the large sum of money from her house, but was hoping to live off the interest for awhile.

Three Flus and A Funeral

Quinn started with the stomach flu on Tuesday. Mike on Wednesday. And me on Thursday. Thursday was Mike's Grandpa's wake and today the funeral. I didn't make it yesterday, but made it to the funeral today.

And tonight we have our Christmas party. I forgot to make punch. Or rather, I thought of it yesterday, but honestly couldn't gather the strength to make the first part that needs to be frozen.

iRobot

We watched iRobot last night. I thought it was pretty good, but then I actually had a nightmare that had something to do with our iRobot (you know, that Rooma Vacuum). I felt real fear in my dream but I really can't remember what was going on in it.
We had a busy weekend, as most Labor Day weekends are. We went and saw Mike's grandparents yesterday and it's so sad talking with his Grandpa, who has deminsha. I think he asked me about 6 times how old Quinn was. I'd say we're pretty lucky, though. His grandpa is pretty good spirited and although it's obvious he's frustrated at times, for the most part he tends to laugh outloud. Though I wonder if he's truly hurting and I couldn't imagine: it's almost as though he's living in darkness and trying to figure everything out over and over again.
This weekend we're going up to South Haven, MI for a wedding! I'm so excited to see that town again, I used to go up there pretty much every weekend in high school. I need to go shopping for a dress today ~ yuk.
Speaking of high school, I decided to go to my reunion. Now I have to see if Mike's going to come with then I have to send my RSVP thing in.
Some of you said I should put more pictures on here...so here's one for you all:


Here's Quinn at my mom's house in the Classic Little Cozy Coupe. Cute, isn't he. My 25 year old cousin also squeezed into the Little Cozy Coupe.