“John”, eighty-six, suffers from end stage cardiac disease. John was admitted to the hospital yesterday with shortness of breath. John told his doctors that he is done with any further treatment and wants to have comfort measures only. It was then John’s doctor made a referral to hospice.
John lives with “Nellie”, his wife of sixty-two years. It is so obvious how much John loves Nellie. John said that he had no fear about dying as has strong Catholic beliefs of God and the afterlife. He knows that he will be okay. John’s only concern is about Nellie. I told John that we will make sure that Nellie will be okay as hospice follows for thirteen months afterwards. John gave me a big smile and squeezed my hand.
John and Nellie have three sons, of which two live out of state. Charles, their youngest son, lives with his parents and is the primary caregiver for both. Charles owns his own mailbox business and took a day off today to meet with us. Charles knows his mother can no longer care for his dad and, with help from the hospital and hospice, we are transferring him to a skilled nursing facility today.
The nurse and I initially met Charles alone out in the hallway. Charles gave both of us a “heads-up” about his mother’s outbursts. When we walked into the hospital room, Nellie immediately got up and stalked out of the room while sarcastically telling Charles, ”It is obvious how you don’t care what I think.” The nurse and I explained our hospice program to Charles and John, while Nellie stayed sitting outside in the hallway.
When it came time to sign the admission paperwork, Charles and I walked outside to find a sitting area. When Nellie saw us, she immediately got up and followed us to a small conference room. I started to educate Charles about the paperwork and where we needed his signature. Each item I explained, Nellie would complain with sarcasm and paranoia. Hospice is totally covered by one’s insurance. With Nellie’s short term memory, she would forget our conversation within minutes, thinking we were selling her some unneeded insurance.
I later asked Charles how he handles his mother’s wrath along with his dad’s declining health. Charles answered, “One day at a time. One moment at a time.” I told him what a beautiful job he is doing, It was then that I called him St. Charles. He seemed surprised, but then just glowed.
Caregivers do not know what a challenge it can be. Also, most are not aware of what a difference and impact they are making on a loved one’s life. When it is time for a caregiver to cross over, I know they will jump to the head of the line. My heart aches for Nellie and her stressful perception of her life. Fortunately she has a strong family who will continue to love and care for her. I wish her and her family peace.
ST. CHARLES
His aging parents are both struggling.
His dad with his body; his mom with her mind.
His heart is not working as it should.
Her confusion is causing paranoia and anger.
She just doesn’t quite understand
that she can no longer care for him.
He needs a lot more help now
so they are moving him to a facility today.
Her angry outbursts roll off her son’s back.
He knows it is not his mom inside.
He stays calm and listens quietly.
He has the patience of a saint.
He worries about his dad.
He knows he doesn’t have long to live.
He tries hard to focus on both of their needs.
Dementia only allows her to look at herself.
He’ll continue to be a dutiful son.
He’ll continue to do what he needs to do.
He’ll calmly do the right thing for both parents
with patience, compassion, tolerance and love.
St. Charles.
No comments:
Post a Comment