From Rehab to the Nursing Home

After a couple of weeks having Mom in the Rehab Center, we have made a decision to transfer Mom from Rehab to the Resident portion of the Home.

Although she can now slowly walk with the aid of a walker, she still has problems with her balance.  She can still feed herself, but now has to have soft, pureed foods.  She is totally incontinent, as she was here.  They have done some profiling on her and determined that she is entering the severe stage of Alzheimer's Disease.    She almost never speaks, then only one syllable words or sounds.  She needs cues for every activity.  Someone sits with her to remind her how to eat.  She does not understand the nurse call button, despite frequent reminders from the staff and from me.  She no longer knows my name, and only twice in the last month has she had any idea of who I am.  She does not know my husband (of nearly 50 years) at all. 

My goals in all of this are pretty simple.  I want her to be safe and happy. 

She is safer there than she could ever be here, with just me to watch out for her.   She still wanders around all night, but with the 24-hour staffing, and no stairs, that is not a danger for her.   Here, there are stairs everywhere. 

She seems to be quite happy there, too.  She has always been very extroverted and loves to be around people.  There are lots of things going on around her, and although she no longer speaks more than a few words a day, she can watch and enjoy the hustle-bustle of the nurses, therapists, and other residents.  There are lots of daily activities, and she enjoys observing, if not participating in, everything from bingo to crafts to concerts.   She is always wearing a smile and the nurses report that she loves ice cream (which I've known for years!). 

I've start completing all the necessary paperwork -- a mountain of forms and information to complete and compile. 

The house is quiet at night, and I am finally catching up on some much-needed rest.  The first night she was in the hospital, and the next day, I slept nearly 36 hours straight and still wanted more.  Two years of sleeping day-after-day getting only 20-minute catnaps (adding up to less than 3 hours a night) were taking a toll on me and I was losing my own health.  Even after more than two weeks of full nights, I'm still tired enough to want to sleep 11 hours a day.   But my energy and zest for life are returning and I will soon be back to my pre-caregiver health.