Homecare Sometimes Equals Family Stress

We made arrangements for a PSW to come in for a short period every day. They would ensure she had a bath at least once a week (which they would do while they were there), and they would ensure she had at least one proper meal a day and do whatever needed done.

Back at Mom's place, she headed for the TV and her old westerns, while I begancleaning so the PSWs weren't left with a lot of that. I filled her new prescription and asked the pharmacy to dispose of the old meds, checked on her regular meds and made sure there were enough for the next week, and the containers filled. I also labeled the prescription bottles on the fronts, and the lids to say what the medications were for. I didn't plan to stay away long, but maybe 3 or 4 days, so we could see how mom fared with assistance. I walked to the grocery store across the street and bought groceries, buying things I knew she liked in prepared packages. Things like macaroni and cheese that she could microwave (she still knew how to use that), tea bags, milk, raisin bread and malt bread, butter - carrot and oatmeal snack bars, tomatoes and fresh green beans and a variety of other things she could prepare in the microwave.

That night, I called my husband to pick me up the next evening. In the morning, the visiting nurse arrived. He was very good and patient with my mother, who really was not very co-operative. By the time he left, Mom thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I watched him leave with a smile on my face.

Later that afternoon, I packed to head home and went to have a shower.  As I was finished dressing I hear my mother speaking to someone. In the livingroom, there was a woman at the patio doors trying to come in, while my mother was being quite adamant that she didn't need anybody. It was the PSW, whom I let in. I explained this again to mom, while the PSW was there, and mom agreed to allow her in. She went off with the woman and had her bath, and when they came out mom was chatting with her like they were old friends.

That night, mom ate a small dinner of  pork chop (maybe half a small one), fresh green beans, mashed potatoes and had a slice of spice cake for desert with her tea. I was pleased, as I cleaned up the pots and put away our dinner dishes. My husband had packed up the car while I was tidying, and mom was standing at the door waiting for us to go.

It seemed as though she couldn't wait to get rid of us. Although I could understand her wanting her own space back, I was very nervous about leaving her. I had asked her neighbours, the drug store at the edge of the parking lot, the grocery store and the variety store to please call us if  they thought she needed help. All of these places and people had known both my parents for over 20 years, and most were happy to oblige.

Before we left, I gave mom her sleeping pills - these were mild and meant to relax her so she would sleep. I went over the medications chart we made for her, which even a child would have understood. This chart had one of the pills taped on the left hand side - that way, she could tell which pill it was, simply by looking at it. All of them were a different colour - some were capsules, some were pills, some large, some small and one was shaped like a triangle. Beside each pill in large letters, I wrote it's generic name, and beside that, how many she should take. The chart was kept next to her pill box, which was full and ready for the coming weeks. Taped to the side of the pillbox were the instructions to take the pills each morning at 10:00 am, and to put a checkmark on the calendar/chart beside each one when she took it.

That was one way for us to be sure she had taken her pills each day. At least, that's what we thought.

The next morning, back in my own home, I called mom. We chatted, and she sounded remarkably normal. I asked her if she'd eaten, and she said she'd had two pieces of malt bread toasted, a bowl of cereal (that's a lie, I remember thinking, there is no cereal because I didn't buy any - she never ate cereal), and that she'd had a cup of orange juice (lie - no orange juice either) and even a cup of coffee (another lie - she hated coffee, and without dad there, no coffee was in the cupboard). She was telling me what she thought I need to hear to keep me away. I smiled.

Then, she told me she got a pork chop out of the freezer for dinner. I frowned.

I sighed. Very loudly. I was already frustrated and hadn't even been home an entire 24 hours yet.

I asked her if she'd taken her pills yet. She asked me to wait, and went and got the calendar off the table (I also taught her to to put an "X"  through every day when she went to bed at night so she'd know what day it was when she got up the next morning). She confirmed what day it was, then got her meds chart and pillbox. She said there were check marks in the chart for that day, and the pillbox for that day was empty.

I sighed again, this time in relief.

That night, I called her again and made sure she took her night pills.

This went on for the next 3 days with mixed but similar results. Okay I thought. It's not perfect, but it might be workable for a while. Until that night when the supervisor of the PSW we hired called and indicated that mom would not let the PSW in, either time she had visited.