You Never Know What You’ll Find

I’m often asked why I feel the need to see my Mom in the Special Care unit every day, twice a day.  This week is a prime example, and one most folk would never grasp unless, well, you’ve been a caregiver for some time.

I typically see Mom every morning and every evening at shift change, so I can keep the lines of communication open between the employees, Mom’s sitters, Hospice and myself.  The sheer number of things that can change in 24 hours can be astounding, perhaps not life-threatening, but changes nonetheless.

Take last week, for example, my sisters came into town to visit and noticed Mom did not get her 8 p.m. medicine.  No worries.  She slept fine that night.  They asked about it and were told they were out and had left a note.  (Hmmm, I wonder who will do “something” with that note?).  The next morning, they were informed that she doesn’t take anything in the evening.  Really?  That’s funny cause she has been for months now.  The second day had some hiccups with med administration again and by Monday Mom had lost an entire night’s sleep, sleep through almost all of Sunday and finally gotten everything back to normal by mid-Monday.  Next, we notice a line of bruising on the back of her knee/leg area.  We have no idea exactly what happened but blame getting her in the wheelchair when she’s like a 2×4 and unbendable.  A couple of nights later, while putting on her sock that had slipped off, it was discovered that one foot and ankle were twice the size as the other foot.  No other symptoms, but we are watching it, and yesterday, she started wheezing in the shower and not again until last night.

That’s just in the scope of seven days.  So much can change in the elderly, and if they are unable to communicate with you, you have to play a Columbo-type detective while caring for your loved one.

Don’t be a stranger,