A friend and I with spouses in care both imploded recently – different times, different circumstances but we ended up in the same place – with friends.
A FRIEND TEXTED me then other day. Said she couldn’t talk but she was in a bad place and she’d tell me about it later.
Her husband is in the same care facility my wife is in, but even though he has dementia he’s in nursing care because he also has Parkinson. She’s been a care-giver longer than I, and with a much heavier load.
She and I commiserate. We are in the same club where good news often seems banned at the door and a smile can get you thrown out. But not all the time. If there is one thing club members seem committed to it’s helping each other.
So, I called her. She was out in a nature preserve walking and talking with a close friend and she said she felt better already. Things were just piling up, she said.
I know.
A week before they had piled up on me.
I had gone down to the care facility and Connie was uneasy. After a bit I sensed something and I asked “did you have an accident?” She nodded her head. I went out to the nursing station and told an aide I needed help, but she had other things to tend to. Night shifts in a care facility are not like day shifts. Sometimes they remind me of Edwin Hopper’s Night Hawks.
So, I went back in and took Connie into the bathroom and got her diaper panties off and sure enough. No way to put it other than to say she pooped her panties. It was messy. I got them off her and she was shaking. I was trying to wipe her down. I had her put her hands on the sink counter but suddenly she started to collapse. I grabbed her and got her down on the floor.
I went back out to the nursing station and told them again I needed help. I stopped and got some towels from the supply closet. When I went in I tried to get Connie up but she was like a sack of cement. Finally the aide came in. We got her into the shower chair and I started hosing her down. I got her clean.
The LPN came in and took her blood pressure. Dangerously low. Oxygen down. There was talk of the hospital, but I wasn’t ready for that. “I think she has diarrhea and she doesn’t drink enough water anyway. She’s dangerously dehydrated.”
We got her dressed, tried to get some water down her. She said she had to go again and just as I got her pants down she had another diarrhea attack….all over the floor. The she threw up. We got her clothing off again, another show. Dried her off, got her into her nightie.
The nurse brought some Imodium and, this was about two hours now, checked her blood pressure. It was coming up. Oxygen was better. The nurse agreed to check her every hour.
I left. The Eagles were playing the Lions and Sunday Night Football. I had been invited to a watch party at friends’ house. I was beat, didn’t feel like going, but did. Glad I did. My friend was there and I told her what had happened and she gave me a hug. The husband of the woman she later walked and talked with – small world – gave me two, guess it was three, top shelf doses of whiskey and we all yelled at the Birds.
I had my implosion. She had hers. Both resolved themselves in different way, but both with friends.
So it goes on Planet Dementia……..
Rich Heiland, has been a reporter, editor, publisher/general manager at daily papers in Texas, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio and New Hampshire. He was part of a Pulitzer Prize-winning team at the Xenia Daily (OH) Daily Gazette, a National Newspaper Association Columnist of the Year. Since 1995 he has operated an international consulting, public speaking and training business specializing in customer service, general management, leadership and staff development with major corporations, organizations, and government. Semi-retired, he and his wife live in West Chester, PA. He can be reached at [email protected].