New to this….be gentle

Just discovered this "my space" thing and wondered if anyone actually looks at these things. It’s an interesting concept. Is there any way to actually commuicate here, or is it just for ramblings? If anyone reads this and finds this useful, maybe you could attempt to find a way to let me know. Thanks.

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2 comments on “New to this….be gentle

  1. hi yeah people do ramble in once in awhile, including myself. feel free to ramble in and comment on my space, it\’s rather boring as i have no pictures in it. but i don\’t mind hearing from others.sounds like you face similar problems as i do…traffic. many of us do…oh well wind down time i guess.i am a b.c. girl born but not raised. lived in vancouver where i was born until i was eight, then we moved to alberta. my family is from the arrow lakes.pop in some time :)ciaoheather

  2. Went into your ‘space’ and read about your recent problems with A. Joy. The ‘stubborn’ streak is a ‘Hardy’ trait, remember it well with Dad (bless him). Alzheimer’s is a terrible, debilitating disease, both for the person who has it and worse for the caregiver. I could go on forever about the problems leading up to and finalizing dad’s move to the nursing home so I can sympathize with you and know exactly what you’re going through now and will be in the near future. The only way I got dad into the nursing home was him being in the hospital and me not signing him out until they had a place for him to go. I had closed his apartment while he was in the hospital and they could not release him unless he had a place to live. The Hospital he was in had a ‘holding’ floor of which I was totally unaware of when he went in but being he was diagnosed with Alzheimers’ (and bone cancer) that’s where they put him for a few months while we waited for space in a nursing home. I ran myself ragged going there every night after work, feeding him, trying to get volunteers to take him downstairs for walks (because they wouldn’t let him leave the floor by himself) and even paid a man from ‘Seniors for Seniors’ to take him out on Saturdays afternoons to his legion or wherever he wanted to go, and then I would bring him home on Sundays for dinner (of which he didn’t want to return to the hospital but knew he had to). The Hospital staff got to know me by name and they said he just waited by the elevator every night knowing I would be coming to see him. Then when I was at my wits end, I called a nursing home one Sunday morning as a drastic measure hoping I could personally get him in there. I spoke with a woman who was on their Board who sympathized with me but said their were no openings yet. Speaking with her further, I ended up crying and told her I had to do something and before we were through I had listened to her sad story about her deceased husband who had died in the very same hospital and she was crying too. It ended up she said she would do what she could to hurry up the process. Three weeks later I heard from them and and they sent me papers but ironically, the hospital said they’d heard from another nursing home and he was to move immediately. That’s the one he went to and it was just 10 minutes away from where I lived, now to make his move there easier, I took the day off work and went with him in the ambulance because he had to move right away or lose the room. In his condition and given his age, he would have been in a very confused state of mind had he went there alone. Once there, he was shown his room which was temporary until they had a semi-private opening available. He was surrounded by nursing home personnel explaining certain rules about what time he would go for dinner, his seating arrangement, was shown the lounge (which had a bar), was welcomed by a Social Co-ordinator who wanted to know his interests and to explain about the social activities available and all in all, he seemed to be quite happy and fitting in. I stayed there for a few hours and then said I was going because it would soon be his dinner hour but explained I was only 10 minutes away and he would still come home for dinners on Sundays, etc. WELL, I just got home and in the front door, when the home called and said that if he didn’t settle down they would have to give him a sedative. I asked them to put him on the phone and all he kept saying was “get me the hell out of here!”. There was a misunderstanding about the elevator and him going down for dinner, etc so that when I explained to him what the problem was he finally settled down. I could go on, but what I’m really trying to say is that we love our parents to death, we try to help them when they can’t help themselves, and we always feel guilty about it when we shouldn’t. We should only feel guilty if we weren’t doing anything to help them! I know that no one wants to go into a nursing home, even you and me, and we all hope to spend our last days in our own home, but life has a way of swinging in different directions. So, hang in there Gary and if and when you feel the need to talk to someone, I’m as far as your outbox (used to be phone).Bye for now, luv to mum xx and take care!

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