Moving Day.
I don’t know why Jean was so wound up. It’s nice and peaceful here. We passed in the airport, I saw someone skipping and doing cartwheels in the middle of the airport. Odd I thought, even odder to be Jean. We (she) talked (I listened and took notes.) She left me with a 2 inch binder full of documents, copious notes, and a 20+ item todo list. No worries I got all week...Plus she really did all the hard work.
So moving day was scheduled for Tuesday. Tom was due in sometime, no one could really pinpoint. I guess Emeritus time is like Jamaica time. It happens when it happens. I decided to visit early to knock a couple items off the list and survey the land.
Emeritus is a national long term assisted care provider. The facility itself is rather nice. It’s in Jensen Beach, across the road from the Indian River. From Tom’s window, if you look though the palm trees, you can see the water. The downside is that this a special memory care unit, specializing in Alzheimer’s care. Which means the ‘inmates’ are locked in to prevent them from wondering off. After conversing with a few of the residents, physically wondering off was certainly a possibility, mentally wondering was ongoing. I’m not sure which land some may have visiting. But as is their motto at Emeritus, ‘Every day is a new journey.’
Upon entering the ‘unit’ (basically the 3rd floor), I observe the daily news and story time. This is where John the memory unit director, relays the daily news and stories of the day. All the mobile residents were in attendance circled around a couple of tables. Thinking this was poker time, I asked what the ante was, and I hope it’s not strip poker (cause the old gals had way more clothes on than I.)
The story of the moment was about a gator that was in someone’s yard. I had heard that earlier in the day, but I expressed my surprise anyway. To this Abby #1 and #2 both expressed great interest that I was involved somehow.
Abby #1 & #2: “Did you see it?”
John: “Oh Yes, it was enormous”
Abby #1: “How big?”
John: Pointing from one wall to the other. “Big as a boat.”
Abby #2: “Really”
John: “Oh Yes, I was afraid to get out of my car.”
Oh, what stories we can tell at the memory unit. The rest of the visit fairly uneventful. I went home afterwards to rest up for the 3 o’clock visit. Knowing Tom would probably be there and Carol would be along.
Honestly I don’t know what to expect when I see Tom. But I’m guessing that he will want to go home, and that’s about what we got. We arrive to find him in his chair (he doesn’t realize that it’s his chair, even though the cushions are molded to his butt.) He’s smelly, unshaven, and confused. Carol is good with him, explaining five or ten times what happened to get him here. She helps him change clothes, cause he really needed too.
Sidenote: It took me a while to figure out why he had a latex glove sticking out of his pocket. It wasn’t in his pocket, but tied around two or three belt loops acting as a de-facto hospital belt. Who thinks of these things?
Jean did an awesome job furnishing his room with his clothes, chair, bed etc.. But Carol and I had our best laugh after changing him. For some reason he thought that long pants should be the outfit of the day, so we tried to outfit him with the only pair of long jeans in the dresser. We were complexed, because they were too small, which is odd because all of his clothes are normally 3 sizes too big. Carol eventually realized that maybe the pants were hers, but also surprised that they almost fit him.
While changing again, I excused myself, because really... who wants to see that? So while I was waiting in the commons area, outside of Tom’s room, Abby #3 walks by. She waltzes straight into Tom’s room like she belongs there. I have no idea what happened next, but about a minute later, she came out and then took a chair across from me in the commons. I study her, not really knowing what to say. About a minute of silence later, she looks at me and states, “Well it looks like you can handle this area, I’ll leave it under your control.” And then further, “I need to go home and take care of the kids.” My reply, “I, I mamm, got it covered.”
The rest of the day, mostly uneventful. We visited about an hour and a half. At around 5pm, we escorted him to dinner and made our get-away. Moving day complete.
Day 2.
Same people, different personalities. I knew Carol didn’t put on a new patch yesterday, but didn’t push her on it. It was a potentially explosive day and this mine field is new to me. However she was eating well and generally quite sociable. Today was a different story. She didn’t want to eat and when it came time to visit Tom, she was very apprehensive, with heavy sighs and breathing. I thought she may start hyperventilating. I gave her an option of not visiting Tom, saying that Emeritus suggested that we don’t visit the first two weeks, so Tom can adjust to the surroundings (they did indeed suggest this.) But she said that it was her “job” and that she needed to do what she needed to do. She attempted to bring back the same soiled cloth that we brought home yesterday. Not remembering that we did that.
When we arrived, Carol didn’t want to go in at first but did anyway. Tom was more combative today. Wanting to know, “where the hell have you been?” So in general more like Tom. Carol too was ready to fire back. I thought maybe we would have MMA battle. New day, new journey.
At first I remained silent, mostly because I feared to tread in unknown waters, secondly because I couldn’t not watch. Eventually, I did start to steer the conversation to calm waters. Carol decided that she needed a break and bounced from the room. John the director must have saw Carol in the commons area, so he came to visit. Tom reran the same conversation past him. To which I saw John start to get flustered. Once again steering the boat back to calmer waters.
The man has a single focus. I’m used to repeat conversations with Tom, but generally, the topics switch between Jim, work, where am I living, where’s my hair, etc... Not now, one and only one topic. I can understand why the current topic is stuck, but holy cow, it necessitates patience.
Tom: What is this place?
John: It’s a assisted care facility.
Tom: What?
John: It’s kinda of in between a hospital and home.
Tom: Why am I here?
John: Because you had some health issues a week ago.
Tom: Really?
John: Yes, you were in the hospital for a week.
Tom: Honest to God, I don’t remember a thing.
John: Yes, I know. That’s why you are here.
Tom: If you weren’t telling me this, I would think that I’ve gone bonkers. (I bit my tongue on the obvious comeback here)
John: Yes, I know.
Tom: When will I get out of here?
John: When you get better.
And so on and on. Rinse and repeat. I stop counting the times, but somewhere beyond a dozen time we had this conversation. Eventually it dawned on me, I was having a Groundhogs Day moment. Bill Murray keeps repeating the same day, making adjustment along the way to improve the outcome. I was doing the same with Tom’s conversation. I was fine tuning the replies to avoid the pitfalls. Example, steer clear of the doctor topic:
Tom: Who’s keeping me here?
John: The doctors will decide when you are healthy enough to go home.
Tom: Which doctor?
Carol: Doctor So and So
Tom: Agitated. I’ve never even seen him! How can he make decisions about me!
And so it went on and on....
Eventually dinner time came. We walked him to the dining section and sat him with 2 old-timers, who may or may not have been conscious, but seemed harmless. Maybe their were on a far away journey....
JB
