Yes. The Hospice Social Worker visited today...
...and I got a chance to talk to him, extensively, about respite possibilities and my misgivings. The discussion was extremely helpful.
    First of all, he was able to give me specific information about and insight into to a number of local respite facilities that I should check out. He was especially in tune with my desire for a smaller, home-like facility, even though I hadn't gotten a chance to mention this. As well, he was careful to review facilities that are close to home.
    Secondly, his advice about how to approach a respite facility visit was first rate and advice I needed to hear. He recommended that I take my long list of concerns and whittle it down to "three or so"; those most important. Ask open-ended questions about these areas, instead of initially laying down my law. For instance, regarding my concern about diet: Ask what provisions can be made for my mother's peculiar diabetic profile, which is extremely flexible but can easily get out of hand.
    Thirdly, the overall tone he suggested for my visits encouraged me to think in terms of soliciting the facility's help in caring for my mother, rather than laying down the law about how she should be handled.
    He reminded me, of which, frankly, I needed to be reminded, that many of the problems I had with respite care last time were piggybacking on problems that had already developed through the hospital; and, as well, many of the problems I had with the rehab facility were piggybacking on problems created by the hospital and then nurtured through the respite facility. He pointed out that my mother, at this time, is in a state of health profile stability (more or less). She does not have any pressure bruises, for instance. She will not be going into whatever facility I choose dehydrated, constipated, over-sugared, over or inappropriately medicated or recuperating from a debilitating bout of something-er-other (I hope), etc. Thus, the chance that meticulous oversight will be needed by me is much lower than previously. As well, she and I both have time to prepare for the possibility of such care. This is different, too. He added that, as far as oversight is concerned, Hospice can and will work with me on this. Hallelujah!
    Interesting, too: I mentioned one of the points I wrote about in the immediately previous post, that I thought it would probably be a good idea if I visited the facility nightly in order to eat dinner with her and spend some time rubbing down her legs, maybe reading out loud to her. I also mentioned that one of my plans for respite time was to take advantage of her absence and do things that are impossible while she is here, like having the carpet cleaned (she is very sensitive, now, to the chemicals used and a five day airing out of the house should alleviate this); going through all the boxes of paperwork we transferred from the shed to our house in the spring just prior to her pneumonia in order to go through all this stuff "together" (which is not a good idea, anymore)...although he didn't discourage me, he suggested that I should not try to set caregiver duty limits on the time I take for respite. He suggested, for instance, that I feel free to indulge in an out-of-town visit, if I wished, etc. It's not that I hadn't thought of this, it's just that I continually feel under the gun to do certain things that aren't getting done, even when the doing of such things doesn't quite fit into Mom's and my lives, anymore...so, I tend to think of respite as a time to approach the possibility of putting things in order, as well as doing things I enjoy without interruption...reading a book from cover to cover in one sitting, for instance...ahhh, those were the days!
    Sidebar: The truth is, time when my mother is asleep that I could be, for instance, going through boxes, is often spent considering and recording our companionship/caregiving experience here in my journals. A second truth is, if I surrendered this to other "putting one's house in order" duties, I'd, frankly, go crazy. This work that I do here online in my journals is what keeps me from blowing a gasket. It is as necessary to me as fluid intake monitoring is to my mother. It is, in fact, more than a safety valve. It allows me to add, in my own eccentric way, meaning and purpose to this journey of my mother's and mine. It allows me to "lose" myself in this experience in a manner that is both appropriate and necessary to me.
    So, anyway, the upshot is that I'm feeling better about the possibility of respite. It may not come as quickly as I was planning, and I doubt that I'll be taking advantage of the opportunity as often as Hospice says I can, but, I feel better knowing that it can probably be done.
    One other preparation I intend: I will be talking to Mom about the possibility of this happening, what it will mean for her, what it will mean for me, how she feels about it, any concerns that she has about being in a facility for up to five days with much less contact with me than she normally has, you know the drill. I've already opened the subject with her. From discussion to discussion, of course, I don't expect her to remember much, if anything, consciously. But, I've come to have great faith in her subconscious mind, which continues to operate reliably on her behalf. In some ways, in fact, I sometimes feel that it has become stronger than before as it has taken up the slack for her conscious mind.
    So. Anyway. Enough. I've got to prepare for dinner and Mom's awakening from her nap. Tonight, I think, we'll be watching American Girl movies. Night before last we watched the one that hit the theaters earlier in the year about the depression. My mother was thrilled with it. It brought back many, many memories for her of being a child during the depression, her family taking in boarders, the attitude that anyone could spend time in Hobo Jungle so you needed to be careful about how you viewed hobos, etc. At one point my mother even said, "You know, my dad had to leave home looking for work, more than once." I wanted to ask her if she knew whether he ever spent time in the hobo culture, but then the scene in which Kit wears a dress made of chicken feed sacks appeared on the screen and she was off on another memory...thus, I rented all the movies available, even though they aren't specific to my mother being a child during those other three periods. I know she'll find them fascinating, anyway.
    Gotta go.
    Later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 18:35   email  this post