I live an hour away from her but I have felt the need to see for myself how she is doing. I can look at her face or hear her voice and know how her day is going. Although I understand completely, I’m having a hard time with this quarantine. She seems to be getting weaker and weaker every day.
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Just today the assisted living told me and my brother that mom needs to move to a nursing home. We weren’t surprised, as we had a bit of a warning that this might be coming. Due to the lockdown I had to tell mom the news by phone today instead of in person. Mom is distraught and scared. She knows that her children can’t help with the move, that we can’t go with her to the new place, can’t get her settled in the new place, can’t even give her a hug. All of our hearts are breaking. Not knowing how long lockdowns will be...will I ever see her alive again?
I fear she will now start to decline fast. She’ll be with strangers and can’t see her family. What’s the motivation to live?
To anyone who reads this, thanks for listening.
DebraHanna, thanks for sharing.
My aunt went into the hospital last saturday and I found out from my weekly call to her that she was not at the nursing home (... I should be on the emergency contact list and she was admitted into ER but there was no call). The staff at the nursing home and the nurse at the hospital was forthcoming with her status once I called.
The hospital nurse was kind enough to arrange and facilitate a call and this meant everything. My aunt heard that she was not alone and we were with her in spirit. I am grateful for all the healthcare workers who are on the frontline which is the current situation. As family, their actions mean everything since we can't be present.
Even when you are able to be with a loved one in the hospital or nursing home, there is not much you can do but be present. Hoping my aunt knows in her heart she is not alone at this time.
I had her weekly gum and knee high stockings right by the door to go to her, and finally had to put them out of my own sight -it distressed me every time I saw them.
So, in our case the very worst happened. In spite of every effort and an early lock down, she became ill, and was diagnosed.
For 3 weeks, I held my breath. Every time the phone rang, I jumped and my heart stopped.
For a week, I heard nothing, and every day was worse than the day before for me. Finally, we learned last Saturday that she’d turned the corner, and yesterday, I took part in a phone conference leading to her discharge from the Covid19 program.
She is also 91, almost 92. She is feisty and bull headed and back to giving them a hard time.
I have to be resigned to the fact that I may not see her again in this world, but the joy of learning that she put this menace in its place is worth the world to me. Still hoping that somehow I can get to her soon.
My husband and I pray every single afternoon at 4 for the needs of those who suffer and those who love them. We are old, and unable to help any other way.
He is in Canada and I am an hour outside of NYC so even once the LTC allows visitors I'll have to contend with a border crossing and potentially spend 2 weeks in isolation up there before I can see him.
I'm worried sick about him. He's 93, diabetic, obese and respiratory and heart challenges. We speak daily, I send care packages and hope that I'll be able to see him at least one more time but it seems doubtful the longer this goes. The LTC has been wonderful about connecting residents and loved ones on Facetime....perhaps this is something you can ask about.
The only extended family I have is twin brothers and their families that I haven't spoken to for over a year. There are no aunts, uncles, cousins and very few family friends left so when Dad goes I feel like I'll lose my ties to my home country. I'm trying to prepare myself for the inevitable but it's tough.
Take care of yourself and know that we all wish you the best Debra.
But it still doesn't ease the mind and heart. Love to you.
If you are lucky enough to have your parent on the first floor, you may be able to see your mom through the window. Also, see if the activities staff will do a video call. I send letters to my mom every day that the staff read to her. It is hard, even so. I saw one man who had a cherry picker and said hello to his mom on the second floor via a ride in the bucket. It shows how desperate we are to connect.
So many of our elderly have become infected. Even with frontline workers doing their very best, it’s still so hard to deal with this situation at hand.
Best wishes to you and your family. I am keeping all of you in my heart and prayers.
Doesn't make it easier for her--but in time, it will for you.
My mother has undxed dementia and couldn't tell you when you last saw her or what you spoke about. I don't see her much these days (she lives with YB).
I try to make each very short visit as pleasant as possible b/c I know she won't live forever, and I don't want my last words with her to have been unpleasant. I am finding that harder and harder to do.
If she cannot carry on a conversation, then you should probably sign the DNR. I know that's hard--but we all know our LO's don't go into NHs to get well. They go to die.
I sound callous, but I'm not. Our parents will not live forever, and sadly, it;s looking like COvid19 is really taking its toll on the elderly.
Try calling her and if that isn't workable--maybe send a living letter in to her for an aide to read to her.
Life generally doesn't work out the way we plan, does it?
If she had no advance directive and it was a separate phone call, perhaps it was the staff going through a list of everyone for whom they had no guidance for regarding end of life wishes and who had tested positive. Don't give up hope. Staff do a lot things related to protocol without bothering to think about how it leaves family feeling.