Dad went on hospice officially late last week. Leslie was able to clear her calendar, and she and Dale drove out to Virginia so she can stay until Dad goes. Dale flew home to return to work, and Leslie, her red minivan, her dog Shelby, and her Nespresso espresso maker are in the Hampton Inn in Sterling, Virginia, 5 minutes away from Falcons Landing.
Dad is in good spirits, but is sleeping more and more, and is having some confusion when he is awake. Sometimes, he is simply his own self, and likes to think back fondly on family and friends and travels and adventures. He loves to tell stories, and told a funny one yesterday about how he DIDN’T get into a golf league in Florida. But we can see changes happening, and it’s so good to be here with him.
On Monday morning, around 7:30, he let go of his walker to adjust his clothing, lost his balance, and fell backwards, scraping his right arm badly in the fall. Leslie arrived for her day with him around 9:00, and found him at the nurses’ station computer, unattended, trying to log in, with the wound, which had been lightly wrapped with gauze that had loosened and slipped to his wrist, wide open and rubbing against the arm of the chair at the nurses’ station. Apparently Dad, knowing he needed help but unable to reach any of his buttons, had reached the phone and called 911, the front desk of Falcons Landing, Cliff, and Cindy (and also tried to get Andrew, transportation director at FL, but called his grandson Andrew instead). Cindy got his call and raced over, and she and Leslie managed to get Dad to the ER, get 8 stitches and an all-over check, and a solid wound treatment/wrapping; Dad’s skin is so thin in places that stitches wouldn’t have held.
That was a tough day, and we learned that Dad needs more attention directly focused on him, because he is no longer happy to wait until a staff member is available to help him to the bathroom, etc. So we hired overnight aides, 8 pm to 8 am, for every night, and so far that has been very helpful. Dad has more support and protection, and we are all sleeping better.
Except for Dad. Recently, and especially the last couple of nights, he has not slept much at all, and in consequence has started sleeping LOTS during the days. We don’t want him to miss all his meals, or opportunities to visit with family and friends, so we are trying a new sleep medication tonight, to see if he can rest better at night, and take advantage of daylight hours for meals and socializing. Crossing our fingers. Okay, we’re praying, and we invite your prayers, too.
Hospice has been helpful; Dad’s social worker and a hospice nurse have visited, and his case manager is visiting tomorrow. We are all still learning how it works, logistically—Dad is in the skilled nursing facility at Falcons Landing, the retirement community he and Mom picked almost 20 years ago. The nurses, aides, and staff there know him—he has been in the nursing home, the Johnson Center, many times over the years, and so had Mom. One of his nurses, Kate, told us today that she feels like one of his daughters. We are so blessed to have her on the team. But it’s a learning curve, to figure out who does what. Hospice makes some decisions; the nursing home staff make others. We are learning how to navigate the process.
Dad’s birthday was last week—he is 87! We celebrated on the weekend with a Skype party so we could include his sister, Elaine, and her husband, Norman, who were visiting their granddaughter, Rachel, in Madison, Wisconsin. Turns out Rachel’s apartment is two minutes from the home of grandson Andrew and his wife, Grace, so they hosted the party with paper goods and treats shipped to them by Cindy. Both sites brought out their cakes at the same time, scooped ice cream, and had fun visiting on the big screen.
Dad enjoys revisiting fond memories—today I told him how Abby took her 14-lb dog for his shots and needed an extra vet tech to hold him. For a small dog, he is feisty! Dad loved that story and came back with one about visiting the dentist as a boy, and running from the ether mask they were trying to put on him. In his memory, he ran and hid several times, and it took several hours for them to finish the dental procedure. Please consider yourselves invited—if you have a memory or story to share, please post it in the appropriate section on this web site, and we’ll get it put up. Or e-mail Leslie or Cliff or Cindy or Dale—we’ll get it taken care of. Dad is really enjoying his trips down Memory Lane.
