I often wonder when visiting my dad at the Veteran’s Home — about the other ‘members’ there — about their past lives, why/what caused them to go here (the last place they’ll live) and who are those that watch over them — other than the staff that are paid to.
Each time my dad has a specialist appointment somewhere, a CNA is charged to escort him and I follow behind in my own car – while either the VA security van takes him or a hired Med transport vehicle (as was today, sort of). I will say – that these folks, drivers included, show a great deal of respect and care towards my dad. Maybe because I am there – maybe because that is what they do because it’s who they are. Kind to others. I see it in the way they comb my dad’s hair, or put ointment on his drying and scaled face. I see the care they take in caring for him.
But those others – even my dad’s roommate Steve. who seem alone or lonely. Are we the ones who visit so often that the staff get tired of us? Or is it just more convenient for us? Or, is it because my dad’s been a resident there in Manteno only since May 28th, and not for years or decades like so many others; where families just visit less and less as time goes on. I see the look on Steve’s face when we visit (he seems to look forward to us) and even how he cares for my dad; making sure he had his baseball cap on before we left today. And then wondering why we were back so soon — and talking to us both about my dad’s ever-growing issues. He also wanted to be sure I knew that it was my dad’s ‘shower day’ and to make sure that the CNAs are reminded, so he’s not skipped over just because he was gone for a bit.
So there you have it. Steve, a not-so-old guy suffering from both MS and PD, widowed, in a wheelchair – with his 2 daughters visiting schedule is likely so sparse because they live in Skokie. But Steve, is looking out for my dad. There are so many there that I’ve never noticed a visitor coming by – and we’ve been there at all different time frames – days, nights & weekends. Who is there to take them when they have an external doctor appointment? A stranger/CNA vs. a family member who can take notes and knows the history, etc. ? Who is there to be sure that certain requests are being handled and not overlooked because a family member wasn’t around to oversee. Well, I’ve learned a few times now – that sometimes that isn’t always a guarantee that things are being handled accordingly. So here I am, the dutiful daughter, seemingly on top of everything (my dad’s brain – as he calls me) — and some very important things have been missed and assumptions have been made. And it makes me think more than twice about his current condition that surfaced only once he was there and seriously worsened during the time his doctor was on an extended vacation. So here we are – dealing with a potential amputation but holding off as long as possible just in case he heals less slow and in case the infection dissipates due to the now 8 weeks of intense antibiotics.
So what’s worse: an aging person who has no one to look out for him/her day-to-day, or an aging person that has family but are rarely or never there? I can’t imagine how they must feel. It breaks my heart.
So what do I do when my dad beyond tearful grabs my hands and leans close in to me to tell me “I don’t know what I’d do without you Donna, I really don’t know.” I join the personal pity party and cry myself, and continue to – realizing he knows his time is limited and that the time he’s had since February has been battered with the loss of his wife, the realization that he didn’t get to say goodbye, with worsening symptoms, increasing hallucinations, with a stage 4 bone infection – and with being told he will never eat/drink again.
What do others do when they have no one to rely on or lean into?
I remember the last meal I had with my dad. It was on Feb, 15th (the night before he fell) we had Subway sandwiches at my mom’s bedside while she slept. I remember the last time we went out to eat. It was on Feb. 11th; I saved that receipt. One of those take-for-granted qualities of life — to share a meal with your parent/your child. I would have never realized that a sub sandwich would have been his ‘last supper’ of sorts, while I go forward dining out with friends and my husband and my family, often thinking twice about what he is missing. It’s hard not to.
What do we do, as a family – when/if making the decision to allow him to eat finally eat something – when that something could lead to the end? Others, not family, can tell us what they think – and I’ve heard it more than once “just let the man eat!” What do we do, and when?
"Side By Each" 