The Journey Continues

It's hard to believe that it's been about 15 months since my last posting. In some ways so much has craziness has happened, while in others the journey has been slow and methodical. Nani no longer resides in Arizona as my husband and I had wished. Her hospitalization in November of 2010 resulted in a four month stay at Brighton Gardens in Scottsdale. As soon as we received the okay to transport mother, she was on a plane headed for the homeland of Wisconsin.

Our trip home was surreal as I had expected mother to be more sedate and quiet. I had even been advised to give her a mild sedative to help her with the journey as she was going from a quiet environment of the rehabilitation area in a nursing home to bustling airports and a two hour drive. Mom and I were the first ones on the plane, sitting in the first row. When toileting time arrived I wanted us to be as close to the little wash room as possible! She was vocal and appreciative to the pilot who helped us to get from the wheelchair to the her seat. She joked with the male flight attendant who served her a cup of coffee. Rather than sleeping during the almost four hour flight, she was observant and upright, catching every move of the folks around us throughout the entire flight. We rented a car in Milwaukee, stopped at McDonald's for a hamburger (her choice, not mine) and drove up to the Dells on March 1st - headed for Our House, an assisted living facility in Wisconsin Dells.

Her stay at Our House was brief, as her infection returned in June. She was admitted to St. Clare Hospital then to St. Clare Meadows for physical therapy. It was while at The Meadows that we realized that mom's care level was beyond what we were able to provide for her at home. Nani no longer walks. She requires the use of a lift to move her from bed to wheelchair, and from wheelchair to toilet. Her diabetes requires a scheduled regime of medication and special dietary needs. Her mental health and well-being requires medication of which does little for her continual loss of memory, but helps with her attitude by keeping her more even keeled and less filled with distress. Mother is currently a resident of the long term care unit of The Meadows.

This past February I was able to return home to spend a week with mom and family. While there was paperwork to do, a couple meetings to attend at the bank, and a doctor's appointment, my favorite parts of my time at home were my visits with Nani. Our visits took on a more emotional tone; it's really hard to describe. While over the past few years I have conversed with mom, cared for her physical needs, and we've talked about God and prayer, I've seen little emotional responses from her other than the occasional anger and lashing out when she was frustrated. On my last visit with her, I hesitated to tell her but finally broke down to say, "Well Nani, I hate to say this but I have to go now. I've got to get back to Arizona to work and be with my family." She looked up a me, and really looked at me. In the warm and gentle tone that I'll always remember as my mother's special way of speaking, she thanked me for visiting her and for all that I have done for her. She started getting choked up and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. I didn't know what to say - but I didn't want her to cry. I didn't want this to be the last image that I remembered from our visit. I felt I needed to switch gears, so I said, "Well, you still have more for me to do, don't you mom?" "What's that?" she asked. Whenever I visit and it comes time to depart, I always ask her, "Mom, I'm taking off for now, but is there anything else that I can get for you when I get back?" Her constant reply is, "yes, a MAN!" We laughed, hugged, and I departed with the sound of the classic Bing Crosby movie playing in the background.