Getting Ready for Respite care

Mother needs to go into respite care, or should I say I need mother to go into respite care, so I can have a break during my week of annual leave. Her only experience of being in a Rest-Home was when she was unwell and needed an emergency admission to the hospital wing. When I collected her and brought her home to live, mother felt she had escaped and never wanted to return. Needless to say, to mention respite care brought a negative, anxious response from mother.

I had leave coming up and the issue couldn’t be avoided. The issue of getting mother into respite care worried me. I sought advice and other carers told me they just announced it when it was happening, to lessen time for negative reactions. This did not sit well with me. Although I could understand that in some cases it was necessary, I didn’t want to sow seeds of mistrust in my relationship with mother.

My plan was to introduce mother slowly from an unexpected angle. I checked out a neighborhood Rest-Home and made arrangements to take mother to visit, booked for day-care that day. I told mother the evening before, that she was invited for lunch to meet some neighbors, so she could make some new friends in her age group. That it would be good to extend her social contacts. I also said it was an opportunity to check out the place to see if it would do for future respite care.

The day arrived and mother was curious about the place. She saw it daily, as we drove past. To my surprise, she decided to walk with her walking frame to the Home, instead of getting into the car. After arriving mother was introduced and said a quick goodbye before happily going off with a staff member, to explore the place. She knew I would be back to collect her around 2:30pm. I stood there before leaving, surprised to find I was feeling a familiar feeling, similar to when I left my child on their first day at school.

Later, when I arrived back at the Rest Home, I found mother was happily settled with a group. As soon as she saw me, she stood, turned to the others and invited them all to visit. I had a imagination flash of a raging geriatric house party in my absence, and suppressed the urge to laugh, as I suggested that it might be better for them if she visited them. We didn’t want anyone falling over in the uneven driveway.

Mother went off to her usual (Alzheimer’s) club the next day and told of her visit to the Rest Home. She enquired about it and other’s experiences, if anyone had been there. Mother came back with confirmed reports that the Rest Home was possibly a good place to stay. Some of her club attendees had stayed there.

During the following weekend, I took mother shopping. We found an electronic clock-calendar and photo viewer with a radio. I loaded it with just under 476 photos. Photos ranged from ancestors, mother’s childhood, marriage, children, siblings & children, grand-children and families, especially the babies in the family. I also added some of the garden and familiar home environment. Mother loves it. She has it placed on her bedside table and can see the time, day and date on one half, while the photos slowly rotate on the other half. She feels it says who she is and finds it is comforting. I decided it was time to tell mother there was a vacancy coming up on Monday and I would be able to take a week’s holiday, starting that week. Mother immediately said she would like to take her electronic photos with her.

During the afternoon and evening mother would mention different things she needed to pack. I reassured her that I could do the labelling and packing while she was at club, that I would take her when the time came and get her settled. Mother was excited. I said to her “is it like going on a school camp?” Mother answered chuckling, “yes, it feels like going on a school camp”.

What happened at the hospital today?

Mother has been on the waiting list for cataract surgery and has been anxiously asking how long she will have to wait, as her eye-sight has been clouding over. Watching TV and reading her favourite magazines were very important to her and becoming increasingly difficult to do.

I was contacted yesterday and told that Mother was finally on the surgery list for ten days time. She was required to attend the hospital for eye measurements and a pre-admission clinic today. So I decided last night to tell mother the good news that she finally was booked for surgery, and to keep the news of the pre-admission appointment for just before she needed to go. I knew that if I told mother about her appointment, the night before, she would be up 4:30am worrying about ‘what time she was going’ and have ‘would she remember to be ready’ anxiety. My strategy was to allow a restful sleep thinking her next day would be the usual routine. I did tell her that she would be having a pre-admission appointment sometime soon.

The day started as usual and mother happily went off to day-care. I told her I would be dropping in for a meeting later, which was true as the monthly carers meeting was in the afternoon. I rang the centre to inform the staff that I would arrive to take mother to an appointment later that morning, and ensure she would be there and not on an outing. This gave me time to collect all the medical history and medication information etc and fill out the necessary pre-admission forms.

In plenty of time before mother’s appointment, I arrived at day-care and told mother the hospital had made a pre-admission appointment for today and I would take her over now. Mother excitedly went off with me. We didn’t need to go far, as the Alzheimer’s day-care is in one of the hospital buildings.

We saw the medical technician first, who happened to remember mother from when she had worked at the hospital. Mother had numbing eye drops inserted and her eye measurement tests done after a preparatory explaination. Mother asked questions and was very happy to talk about her eyesight deterioration.  

We then walked down the long corridor and took the lift to the second floor where the pre-admission interview took place. Mother keenly shuffled along at a fair pace (a gentle stroll for me), and I joked with her that she was getting some exercise, offering for her to sit and take a breather if she wanted. But there was no stopping as Mother was on a mission. At last something was happening about her eyes!

At the pre-admission clinic, appropriate forms were checked, more were completed and questions were asked. Information on the surgery and follow-up was given and then time and date for presentation at the Day ward for surgery was given. The interviewing male nurse talked fast and mother giggled intermittently. I wondered how much information, or actually what mother was hearing. Lewy Body Disease often affects processing information heard. It can often end up received as a totally different message.  I was thankful to be there to hear and reiterate later as required. Then we left for the Laboratory and a blood test. Mother was taken in a wheel-chair to relieve her from a long walk back in the direction we had come. After the blood test, we went back to mother’s day-care and she ate a late dinner that had been kept for her. I went to the care-giver meeting and mother stayed for the early afternoon, and then went home with her usual transport.

After I had been home a while, mother seriously said she wanted to talk to me. I sat down and waited. Mother asked what had happened at the hospital, as her eye-sight wasn’t any better and she looked disappointed. I slowly explained that she had eye measurements for the replacement lens to be ordered for surgery and then she was checked to see if she was fit enough for the surgery. “But what happened to my eye? My eye isn’t better!” mother exclaimed. I repeated the information, emphasising that she had eye drops for the measurement test, then a pre-admission check. “You haven’t had the surgery yet” I said “it’s in preparation for surgery in December”.  Mother finally got it. “So you mean I haven’t had the operation? I thought I had the operation.” “No mother”, I gently said “did you see an operating theatre, were you in one? It was just some eye tests and lots of forms.” Mother sighed with relief as her eye was no better and she had thought the ‘surgery’ had failed.

Mother said later when settling for the night “I still don’t know what happened today. I thought I must have dozed off and didn’t remember having the surgery.” “No mother, you didn’t have the surgery” I said. “What were those drops for?” she asked again, “Just to numb you eye for the measurement tests” I said. She then chuckled “and it was just pre-admission” she finished.