Having her best interests in mind

I made appointments for Mom and me to visit the three facilities she selected on September 22. We’re checking out Waltonwood on 13 Mile near Woodward, America House on Woodward Heights, and St. Anne’s Mead on 12 Mile. They’re all very different. Waltonwood is assisted living with three meals a day included with the monthly fee. While America House provides two meals a day, it’s not assisted living. Each unit has a small kitchen, and assistance type services are in addition to the monthly fee. Like Waltonwood, St. Anne’s features assisted living but also has a skilled nursing unit attached, so she wouldn’t have to move if she required that level of care.

On Saturday she got quite emotional when I talked to her about the upcoming field trips. She claims that everyone she knows who moved into assisted living regretted it. She doesn’t understand why we want her to leave her home, as she feels things are working out just fine. And in some ways, things are working out. She’s lined up someone to clean her house every other week, a physical therapist visits a couple times a week, Colleen does her laundry, Byron mows the lawn, she gets a ride to church, Sally takes her grocery shopping and to get her hair done. She’s wobbling around the house using the four-prong cane, manages to walk out to the mailbox, and seems to be feeding herself okay. I have to admit sometimes I wonder if we’re acting prematurely. But then she’ll do something that clearly shows she’s not firing on all cylinders. She’s more forgetful and redundant. And even with people coming and going, she’s alone most of the time. With physical therapy ending soon and winter quickly approaching, she’ll become increasingly isolated. She doesn’t view that as a problem, but it is. Not to mention maintaining the house and yard.

I try to put myself in her shoes. It's hard, it's traumatic. She’s lived in the house on Meadowlark for over 60 years, and has her routines which would be disrupted if she lived elsewhere. One thing that irritated her when she was in rehab was that the rehab staff dictated the schedule, not her. She was pretty upset when we talked, and said if we made her move to assisted living, she wouldn’t leave her room. It’s your choice, I told her.

One thing I also told her was that when my brothers and I were kids, there were occasions when we wanted to do something but she and Dad were aware of things we weren’t, and with our best interests in mind, didn’t allow us to do whatever it was (unfortunately I can’t think of a good example right now). I explained that the situation was similar now; that we were aware of things she wasn’t. She’s always resisted accepting my brothers and me as adults, and struggles to trust that we have her best interests in mind. If she could do that, she wouldn’t have to fight us so hard. But hell might freeze over first.