It would have been so easy to “knee-jerk” when taking care of my two diverse elderly parents, but I wanted to do a good job and, just like when I was raising my two boys, I thought it was important to read up on the subject and then adapt the information I accumulated to my own personal situation. In between administering to my parents’ immediate needs, I took to the internet and to purchasing a few select books to help me plow through the eldercare maze. All of the sources suggested putting key information in place ahead of impending crises, but alas I was too late for that “Big Picture” discussion. We had already experienced several emergency room incidents, and my mother’s health was already deteriorating. Though my Dad had done his best to manage his and Mom’s affairs, many of the types of preparation the books and articles suggested had not been put in place. My parents’ financial records were scattered, no allowance for transfer of power of attorney had been determined, my mothers’ medical records were sketchy and I really had no idea what were my parents’ emotional needs for living out their final chapters. Despite having missed some initial steps suggested by my sources, I still attempted to generally educate myself. I became familiar with all the eldercare stages and terms just to get my own sense of the “Big Picture.” I skimmed the chapters on “Starting the Conversation, and went directly to ”Housing Options,” and “Moving.” Hoping that I would not have to think about the final outcome for a while, I tabled the chapter on “Saying Good-bye.” My parents’ emotional issues worried me the most. The memoir I read was not always applicable to their needs but I did learn about some ideas such as hiring a geriatric care manager and from the writer’s narrative I was able to get some comfort and support that I so badly needed during a time when I felt so isolated and lonely. From the senior living facility where my parents resided I was able to become more familiar with the role Medicare played in Home Health services. In Mom’s dementia unit, I learned how to speak to residents with dementia by watching Mom’s marvelous activities director at work. Mom and Dad’s geriatrician initially schooled me on Hospice care. He gave me some reading material and I followed up by consulting several internet sites on the subject. If one Googles the subject of eldercare today, one can be overwhelmed by the limitless amount of information now available on the subject. I suggest finding a few good books and a few good sites to begin with and asking lots of questions from the experts you’ll meet while caring for your loved one. Knowing what my options were and what I might expect gave me a sense of comfort. All I had to do was take my new knowledge and apply it to my own circumstances.
Statistically, 70% of today’s 65-year-olds will need long-term care at some point. “Many people make the mistake of assuming Medicare covers it, and they’re wrong,” says Jeffrey Brown, professor of finance at the University of Illinois, who has spent the last decade researching long-term care insurance markets. There are only three choices: out-of-pocket, Medicaid, or insurance. “Long-term care is exactly the kind of low-probability, high-cost risk that you want to insure against,” he says.
When I moved my mom to Denver, she was 90 years old and she suffered from a form of dementia that made her unable to speak. Our family had decided that the best place for her to live would be a dementia unit in the same building where my dad would reside in independent living. Mom’s dementia unit was beautiful. It was sunny, upbeat, and attractively furnished. We thought she would be very happy there. The first day my husband and I visited her after her move to the unit, Mom was sitting in one of the anterooms. When we greeted her, she smiled, took my hand and, though she rarely spoke anymore, she clearly blurted out the words “I want to go home.” I was devasted. I understood how much she missed her beautiful home in Chicago, her blue and white china collection, her paintings she and Dad had purchased from their travels all over the world, her sunroom where she listened to music and knitted everyone scarves and hats for Christmas. What could I say that would make her feel better? I wasn’t sure anything would work, but I knew I had to try to at least attempt to encourage her to look on the bright side of her situation. I continued to hold her hand, I tried to look positive and I responded to her plea. “Mom,” I said, “I know how hard this is for you, but we can’t take care of you as well as the people here can take care of you. We’re all going to come and visit you and be with you as much as we can, but this is your new home now.” From that day on she never complained again and she graciously made the most of her situation. She participated in the unit’s activities, learned how to draw, showed people her soup making skills and went on field trips. It wasn’t easy to tell her what I needed to say, and it wasn’t easy for her to accept my words, but by talking about it together, each of us was more able to move on. Although I can’t say that during the time I cared for Mom I always chose the right words to say, at least I had the satisfaction of knowing that, in this one particular moment, I had communicated effectively. I think Mom could tell that I loved her and that I wanted to take care of her in the best way possible. I think she understood the message.
AARP Colorado is pleased to end of session 2015 on our 2015 legislative activities. All bills referenced in this report were signed by Governor John Hickenlooper unless otherwise noted.Check out the end of session 2015