Washing the Feet of the Saints

Fear of the unknown...

2009-04-01T11:43:00.003-04:00

While waiting for an appointment to speak with our tax preparer a few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to talk with his wife, with whom I had only shared polite greetings before.

Since my last appointment with our accountant a year ago, he had moved his office into a lovely new home. I told his wife how beautiful I thought their new home and office was, and she preceded to tell me the reasons behind the move. The most important reason, she told me, was that they had moved her mother with Alzheimer's in with them. Building a new home, they could design a bedroom and bathroom for her mother that would accommodate the needs of an older person, and life was much simpler for all of them by connecting the office with the house.

As we talked about what it means to care for elderly parents in our home, she told me that others had tried to discourage her.

You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.

Your mother is going to reach a point where you are not going to be able to care for her.

It's going to get too hard.

The truth is, none of us know what awaits us around the corner, but God does...

in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
~ Psalm 139:16

I also know that when life gets hard, God's wisdom and grace will be abundant for the moment.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
~ 2 Corinthians 12:9

*Photo - Highway 24 between Chattanooga and Nashville

From washing feet to washing hair...

2009-03-31T08:03:00.004-04:00

Inflatable Hair Washing Basin
Unfortunately, the nursing home staff did not prepare me very well to bring mother into our home. They were not particularly supportive of our decision and provided only minimal help in arranging for our needs. Even though I was a trained professional nurse, I learned many things about caring for the disabled by trial and error, and one of those was how to wash mother's hair.

For a brief period after she moved in with us, home health nurses helped me with mother's bed bath 3 days a week, and once a week they used a dry shampoo on mother's hair. But in the hot and humid climate in which we live, dry shampooing was not adequate for giving mother the clean scalp and shiny hair I knew she desired.

Once again, I searched the internet for a solution and discovered this inflatable basin. It wasn't perfect. I still managed to get the bed wet in the process, but it enabled me to get mother's hair and scalp thoroughly wet for a good shampoo every week - and because I would shortly be getting mother out of bed and changing her sheets, the wetness was only temporary.

Though you cannot see it in the above picture, the basin had a 40-inch drain tube with a plug that enabled me to thoroughly rinse the shampoo out of her hair by draining the water into a bucket on the floor by the bed.

Every month or so, I arranged for a beautician to come to our home and give mother a good haircut on a morning after I had shampooed her hair. In fact, because I was unable to leave mother very often, we would often turn the kitchen into a beauty parlor and the beautician would cut my hair and Emily's hair, too.

Pretty in Pink...

2009-03-30T00:01:00.001-04:00

During the time mother entered rehab and we moved her into our Pollywog Creek home, I became a bit annoyed with the nursing home staff when I noticed that mother's shirts were always on backwards. I never said anything, but I thought...how difficult can it be to put some one's shirt on right?

The first morning mother was in our home and I dressed her after her bath I discovered exactly how difficult it can be to dress someone in mother's helpless condition. It's one thing to dress a tiny newborn - though that can be difficult enough - but dressing mother was like dressing a 140-pound newborn.

After what seemed like a hour, with one of mother's arms in one sleeve and the rest of her shirt crumpled up behind her back, I gave up in laughter. Mother laughed, too, as I proceeded to re-dress her with her shirt on backwards.

Determined to find a solution, I discovered several online resources with clothing for patients with a variety of challenges such as mother's. It was obvious that she needed shirts and dresses with closures in the back and I had fun choosing a variety of dresses in colors she had never worn before - like pink.

A natural redhead, many of her long time friends had called mother "Red" as long as I could remember, and redheads do not wear pink, but mother had not been a redhead for many years and I decided to go for it.

I thought she looked pretty in pink - don't you?

Chapter 1::Part II

2009-03-25T06:00:00.004-04:00

(Part I is here)

I can’t remember exactly what time it was when the phone rang that night, but I was the only one in the house still awake. “Mrs. Hunter,” the nurse said, “your father has been taken by ambulance to the emergency room….we could not wake him and his blood pressure is very low.”

Over the next 2 days, I rarely left the hospital. My brother’s wife, my nephew and I took turns staying by daddy’s side while the doctors treated him for sepsis, an infection that had spread throughout his body – most likely from the cut he had received on his arm earlier in the week. We prayed, we sang, we adjusted his pillows, and wiped his feverish brow. We told him often how much we loved him - but he never woke up.

My nephew’s little girls were in the waiting room with the rest of the family when we came to tell them that Pops, as he was affectionately called, had gone to be with the Lord. “Did you see the angels?” Kari asked. I could see the smiles on the faces of strangers across the room. "Angels for my daddy at Christmas." I treasured the thought.

As a family we left to tell mother. Not sure daddy would make it through that first night, we had taken her to the hospital to see him, but it had been very difficult on her physically. She did not ask us to take her back, and we didn’t offer. When we told her that daddy was gone, we talked about his freedom from emphysema and Alzheimer’s – that he was no longer struggling to breathe or remember, and holding hands around her bed, we sang together…."When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing it will be….”

Louis and the boys returned home that evening, but Emily and I stayed. behind. The first thing mother asked when we went to see her the next morning was, “Have you seen your dad today?” I was stunned! I knew she was having short-term memory loss, but was shocked to realize that she would forget that daddy had died.

“Remember, mom...remember yesterday, when we rejoiced that daddy isn’t suffering any more because he is now in heaven?” But she didn’t remember….and every day we had to have the same conversation over again. Eventually I stopped telling her. It didn’t seem fair to make her grieve anew every time. When she asked about dad, I simply told her that I had not seen him.

We did take mother to daddy’s funeral. My sister in law and I helped the nurses get her dressed and I witnessed just how much she was continuing to decline. She could not remember how to brush her teeth or that she needed to spit out the rinse water. It amplified my grief over daddy’s death to realize that I was also losing my mother.

Emily and I continued to spend most of the next week in my parents’ apartment as I tended to legal affairs. We discussed mother’s condition with her physicians and rehab center/nursing home staff and the decisions regarding mother’s long-term care that needed to be made with my brother and nephew. Though they did not tell us at the time, the nursing home staff had already determined that mother was not going to improve and needed to move out of rehab and into the nursing home.

Emily and I went home for a few days, and the following weekend we all returned to see how mother was doing. My sister in law had been visiting mother often and helping her with her meals when she could, but just being away from my mother for a few days, it was obvious that she was not getting the food and water she needed. If mother didn’t ask for a drink of water, the nurses didn’t offer it, and her food tray had apparently being removed more than once without her eating a bite. Mother had become so dehydrated that her skin had started to slough, and in just a week, she had developed bed sores on both heels. She was not getting the care she needed.

“Your dad and I want to move your grandmother in with us,” I told the children that evening as we gathered for prayer back home. They had wanted Pops and Grandmother to move in with us months before, but this was different. We would need to make major adjustments in our home to be able to care for mother now. We were not surprised when one of them bravely asked, “Could she die here?”

Three days before Christmas, a medical transport van delivered my mother to our home. Mother’s room needed to have easy access to a bathroom, and be large enough to accommodate a hospital bed and other necessary equipment, so Louis and I moved out of the master bedroom to sleep in Emily’s room and Emily slept on the living room couch. It was almost a year before we could enclose the front porch so Emily could move off the couch and into a bed.

The adjustments we made in our living and sleeping arrangements were just the beginning, as our lifestyle was altered drastically by my mother’s 24/7 needs. It took two to three hours every morning to medicate, bathe, dress, and feed her breakfast. We used a Hoyer Lift to move her from her bed into a Geri Chair, a kind of lounge chair on wheels, and then back into bed for an afternoon nap, a diaper change, or just to take the pressure off of her back and bottom for a while. For several weeks, she also required physical therapy, catheter care and treatment for her bedsores.

As a family and with help from others, we took meticulous care of my mother. Her bed sores healed, we kept her and her clothes and bedding soft and clean, we offered her food and liquids at frequent and regular intervals, and we loved on her constantly until she, too, joined my father in heaven a year and half later.

Washing the Feet of the Saints is not just our story, but the stories of many families who have chosen to bring loved ones into their homes at a time when a nursing home seemed to be the only option. They are love stories offering hope and encouragement seasoned with grace for those who continue to wash feet today and for those who will be called to do so tomorrow.

Chapter 1::Part I

2009-03-24T06:00:00.002-04:00

The days between Thanksgiving and Christmas that year were some of the worst days of my life. Daddy had moved into a nursing home the middle of September, and over the next six weeks, my mother’s health suddenly and rapidly declined. Two weeks after daddy entered the nursing home, mother began to lose her balance and needed to use a cane to walk. Just one week later she needed a walker. Twice she was hospitalized after falling, and after the second fall, her doctors advised that she enter a rehab facility for a season. So that she and daddy could be close, mother was moved into the rehab wing of his nursing home.

Thanksgiving Day, a week later, mother was discovered unresponsive in her wheelchair and was hospitalized for the third time. As she began to respond in the hospital, it was apparent that her cognitive abilities as well as her physical strength were greatly impaired. Though she recognized family and friends, she had virtually no short-term memory. Where she had been unsteady on her feet before, she was now unable to walk at all or even stand. CAT scans ruled out a stroke and though she had suffered with rheumatoid arthritis for years and early symptoms of Parkinson’s disease, her team of physicians was baffled at the cause of her rapidly deteriorating condition.

It was doubtful that mother would ever be able to return to her home again, but after she was discharged from the hospital back to the rehab center therapy was continued with the hope that she would improve. As much as I longed to bring her to our home, I knew she would never choose to leave my father, and at the time we did not have room for both of them. I hated that either one of them was in a nursing home, but I was comforted that at least for the moment they would be together.

The worst day came early in December. For over a month, my daughter Emily and I had been making the three-hour drive from our home to the nursing home two to three times a week, occasionally staying overnight. On this particular day we had gathered a few Christmas decorations from my parents’ home to take with us to the nursing home, wanting to make their rooms more festive with familiar things.

We went to mother’s room first. Even if she didn’t feel well, mother always greeted us with a smile. That day was no exception. When we entered her room she was sitting in a wheelchair next to her bed, her lunch was on a table in front of her. The food tray had not been touched and when I asked, she wasn’t sure how long it had been sitting there. As far as I knew, she was still able to feed herself. She said she wanted to eat, so I prepared her plate, put a napkin in her lap, seasoned her food and told her we would return after checking on daddy. She smiled and thanked me as we headed out the door.

In the nursing home wing across the building, we found daddy asleep in his wheelchair parked outside the nurse’s station in the middle of a group of other wheelchair patients. He was bony thin and frail, slumped over in his chair. He had recently been given medications and had apparently bitten into a vitamin, and the crushed remains mixed with saliva ran down the creases of his chin. He was a mess. His clothes were rumpled, and he desperately needed a haircut and shave. His arms were covered with the bruises common in the elderly, and there was a bandage around his right forearm. I questioned a nurse about the bandage and was told that he had cut his arm falling out of bed the day before. “Didn’t someone call you about it?” she nurse asked. Obviously no one had.

We gently woke daddy up and wheeled him back to his room so I could clean his face and show him the Christmas decorations we had brought from home. It depressed me greatly to be in his room - a room he shared with strangers. Daddy had worked hard - long past retirement age - to provide comfortably for my mother, my brother and me. I was deeply grieved that his earthly rewards had been reduced to a wheelchair, a hospital bed, a bedside table, and a small closet for his baggy clothes.

I reached into the bag of decorations and placed a miniature Christmas tree on the table in front of daddy’s wheelchair. The tree had been crafted by gluing dozens of tiny decorated boxes to a styrofoam cone. It had been the centerpiece mother used most often at Christmas on the kitchen table where daddy spent most of his days after retirement – mastering numerous crossword puzzles before Alzheimer’s disease took over and his crossword puzzles were replaced with coloring books. I had hoped he would be delighted to see that shiny decorated tree in his room at the nursing home, but instead he grabbed it with both hands and began to crush it with amazing strength. Shocked, I managed to pry his fingers loose, but the tree was destroyed. “Daddy! Why did you do that?” I cried, but he groaned and stared over my shoulder not saying a word.

Something was very wrong. I asked the nurses to please put him in bed. “Maybe he just needs to rest,” I thought. “I love you, daddy,” I whispered as I kissed his forehead before leaving the room with Emily to check on mother.

My heart sank as we entered mother’s room. We found her in quite a mess. She was still in her wheelchair and food was every where. She had spilled most of her lunch in her lap or on the floor, and tomato sauce was smeared all around her lips, apparently from whatever lasagna she had managed to get on the fork and close to her mouth.

“LORD, what is happening to my mother!”

Not wanting to alarm Emily, who was only 8 at the time, I chuckled and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. I washed mother’s face, changed her nightgown, and cleaned up some of the mess off the floor. Though mother continued to smile, I noticed a hint of embarrassment. Like a little girl caught skipping through mud puddles, she knew she had made a mess.

On most days, someone from the rehab center would wheel mother to daddy’s room, or the other way around, so they could be together, but it was obvious that today was not going to be one of those days.

“How was your father?” mother asked. Amazingly, she had remembered that I had left her for a while to see him.

“I don’t think he is feeling well today,” I answered, hoping she didn’t detect the lump in my throat.

We stayed for a while in mother’s room. Emily held her grandmother’s hand and told her what she was learning in school and what she wanted for Christmas. We decorated the bulletin board on the wall by mother’s bed and placed other Christmas decorations around her room. I read the Christmas cards that had come in the mail to her, and tacked them to the newly decorated bulletin board.

Mother continued to smile.

We stayed as long as we could. We had not planned on staying overnight and needed to head back home that afternoon. With a heavy heart I kissed mother goodbye.

Before leaving, we stopped to check on daddy. The nurses had put him in bed, and he appeared to be sleeping comfortably. I grabbed the bag with the crushed Christmas tree, and we left the room without disturbing him.

I am usually rather stoic when it comes to tears in public. I tend to save my crying for when I am alone. Most of the time, I can clinch my teeth or bite my lip and do what ever it takes to hold back the tears, but this day was not like most, and as we walked out of my father’s room, I was unable to hold back the flood of tears.

To be continued...(Part II here)

A question in my mail box: "How can I encourage someone with a bad attitude who is caring for an elderly relative?"

2007-10-31T19:33:00.000-04:00

"My grandmother has dementia, but physically she is healthy," my friend explained. "Because of her dementia, she lives with her daughter, but this has created a lot of stress for her daughter and she now has a bad attitude about taking care of her mother. I live too far away to help? Do you have any suggestions I could give to encourage her daughter?"

Bless her heart! I can only imagine the difficulty of caring for a person with dementia who is physically able to move around.

While caring for my mother had its own set of difficulties, she was physically incapacitated and it was like caring for a newborn who could not get up and walk away. The stress of worrying about where an elderly person with dementia might wander off, or dealing with a non-compliant or combative person with dementia must be very difficult.

This afternoon I had lunch with a very good friend whose circumstances are very similar to that of the person who asked for suggestions, so I asked my friend today how she is able to maintain a positive attitude while caring for her elderly mother.

1. Understand that it takes an anointing from God. Every morning she asks the Lord to anoint her for the task of caring for the needs of her mother and the rest of her family. My friend knows that she cannot do this without the strength and wisdom that comes from God alone.

2. Surrender. Along with praying for daily anointing, she daily surrenders her life - her plans, her desires - to the Lord. "You know the hymn 'I Surrender All'?" she asked. "That is what I have to do. 'All to Jesus, I surrender. I surrender all'."

3. Find help. My friend compiled a list of people she could call on to stay with her mother so that she could do other things from time to time - like go on dates with her husband, or trips out of town. When her daughter lived closer, she would watch her daughter's baby so that her daughter could get away, and then her daughter would watch my friend's mother so that my friend could get away. Now that her daughter has moved far away, my friend relies on her list of other people she can call. She also investigated community resources for respite care.

4. Find ways of making the elderly person feel useful. My friend's mother helps with the laundry. She can sort and fold clothes.

5. Be patient. My friend lets her mother do for herself whatever she can, even if it takes longer to accomplish the task. The more the person with dementia can do for themselves, the better they will feel about themselves and be easier to live with. It is also important for the caregiver to accept the quality of work the person is able to do with patience and understanding.

Often the person with dementia will make unkind comments and say things they would never say before they had dementia. That can be very difficult for a daughter. I asked my friend if she has learned to let those kind of comments roll off and not be so hurtful. She said that most of the time she can, but there are times that it isn't so easy and that is when she must constantly be taking it before the Lord in prayer and asking Him to protect her heart and mind and give her the ability to respond in love.

More suggestions can be found in Can You Carry the Burden.

I would love to hear from others who could offer words of encouragement.

A little vent

2007-03-03T07:54:00.000-05:00

When my mother went to be with the Lord April 19, 2001, she had supplemental health insurance through AARP. At the time, I informed AARP of mother's death and cancelled her health insurance, along with her AARP membership.

However, about once a year correspondence from AARP arrives in the mail, addressed to my mother, as it did yesterday. It begins.....

"Dear.......

Since your membership ended, AARP added many new and improved member benefits and services.

We would very much like to welcome you back to AARP, so you can enjoy those benefits and services...."

Argh!!!! The first few times I received the letter, I returned it - reminding them of mother's death.

Obviously they just don't get it!

Now I just throw the letters in the trash. It's their money!

A missionary at home

2007-03-02T07:08:00.000-05:00

Ann Flory Soden shares her caregiving story "What About Mom?" at Comfort Cafe.

I love what Ann says here:

"In her smile I could see that she now agreed with me: my staying home with her was just as important to the Lord as being a missionary in the Philippines."

Visit Comfort Cafe and read Ann's caregiving "Life Story" here.

"Trading Places"

2007-02-13T19:29:00.000-05:00

Last evening NBC Nightly News began a series entitled "Trading Places - Caring for Your Parents". Video from last night featured Bryan Williams and his father who lives in an upscale assisted living facility. Tonight's segment featured Tim Russert and his father who lives alone in his home.

NBC is urging their viewers/readers to submit their own stories and photos of caring for their parents.

You can access these stories and videos here.

Bed sores and a testimony

2007-01-09T20:31:00.001-05:00

Earlier today I received this email from Jennifer:

I wrote you several months ago as we were building an addition so my father-in-law could move in w/us. He moved in the beginning of Nov. After just a week & a half, he was in the hospital with pneumonia. After 9 days, he came home...1 day before Thanksgiving. Things went downhill fast and I found myself checking his blood sugar (which my 8 year old son taught me how to do!! He had been watching his grandpa and was able to help me), giving him his medicines 4 times a day, filling his syringes with insulin (until the day came that I had to actually inject him!), and monitoring his breathing treatments. As the days progressed and my fil weakened, the day arrived when I had to clean him and care for him. God gives such grace for exactly what we need to do!

He was only home for 2 and a half weeks and then had to be admitted for internal bleeding. The high doses of prednisone he has been on for over a year have done their work.

He has been in a nursing home for several weeks now. We want to bring him back home. He is not alone. He does not need to be there. We can care for him, help him exercise, and do all that they have or have not been doing at the home. He also has MRSA and so the attendants don't go in unless they are gowned, masked, & gloved. He is very isolated there.

He is also one of the sweetest, politest, and uncomplaining persons I know. He does have a sore on his backside that we will have to care for. They also have him on a different steroid that is through an IV. I've been encouraging my husband that we need to be very proactive in asking questions and seeing what we can actually do here...more than what they are telling us right now, I am sure.

We are already getting questions from nurses and other people about why we would want to do this. Why not leave him in the nursing home where others can care for him? We tell them that WE are his family and he is NOT alone and we WANT to do this!! This was why we put on the addition! Granted we didn't expect it to come so soon, but it has and it is what God is calling us to do!

We believe that my fil has decided to come to Jesus for salvation during this time! I'm sorry I wrote so much. Wanted to share... I appreciate knowing some of what we
can do to help with the bed sores! Thank you!

Jennifer, please do not apologize for writing "so much". The testimony of your love for your father in law, and your family's desire to care for him at home is a beautiful one. Thank you so much for sharing your story with me. God does indeed give us grace for exactly what we need at the moment.

Don't be surprised if you continue to receive questions from those in the medical profession, and even family and friends, about why you would want to assume responsibility for your father in law's care, rather than relinquish that responsibility to the nursing home staff. There are many possible reasons why they would like for you to keep your father in law in the nursing home. Doctors like it because they can turn the day to day care of that patient over to the nursing home staff doctor and not have to be concerned about middle of the night phone calls from family. Nurses love caring for patients like your father in law who are kind and not demanding. The nursing staff is also threatened by family who question the care their loved one is receiving.

My advice to you would be to remain proactive in your questioning, but with gentleness. Avoid putting the nursing home staff on the defensive. It will only make it more difficult for you to get the information you need to bring your father in law home.

When I removed my mother from the nursing home, she had bedsores on both heels that the nursing home had neither acknowledged or treated, but Medicare provided several weeks of home health care that was initially very helpful. A home health nurse performed an initial assessment of mother's needs and then obtained the doctor's orders I needed for the treatment of those bedsores. Eventually they also helped me get an order for an alternating pressure air mattress to prevent the development of future bedsores. The nurses instructed me in how to care for mother's bedsores and provided the dressings until her bedsores were healed.

Bedsores are treated according to their classification. They are not all treated in the same way. You will need to ask your father in law's doctor to order initial home health care when he leaves the nursing home so that the home health nurses can instruct you in the particular care needed for your father in law's bedsores.

After mother's heels healed, I was very diligent in my care of her skin. I kept her clean and dry, and repositioned her often. I gently massaged her skin after her morning bath, and again before she went to sleep at night to stimulate the circulation to her skin. The alternating pressure air mattress was the best. It allowed me to sleep at night without having to wake up and turn her during the night. Mother never developed another bedsore.

You might be interested in reading what I wrote about how I cared for her skin here.

Jennifer, please stay in touch and let me know how you and your father in law are doing. He is so blessed to have you for a daughter in law.

"The Sandwich Generation"

2006-11-29T21:13:00.000-05:00

Please take 11 minutes and watch this excellent documentary - "The Sandwich Generation" - about 83 year old Herbie and his daughter and her family who care for him. As someone who has walked in their shoes, I find their story comforting and encouraging as they articulate many of the feelings I experienced. (HT - Pat at Sometimes I Feel Like a Piece of Bologna)

Heart hunger for intimacy

2006-11-29T08:03:00.000-05:00

In her book Dear Abba, Finding the Father's Heart through Prayer, Claire Cloninger tells the story of Mother Teresa's 1979 Nobel prize acceptance speech in which Mother Teresa spoke of visiting a nursing home - "where elderly people had been placed by their adult children."

When Mother Teresa entered the nursing home, she was initially impressed by the well-furnished and attractive decor until she noticed the expressions on the faces of the nursing home's residents. "I saw in that home they had everything, beautiful things, but everybody was looking toward the door. And I did not see a single one with a smile on their face. And I turned to the sister (in charge) and I asked:...'How is it that these people who have everything here, why are they all looking toward the door? Why are they not smiling?'"
The sister in charge told Mother Teresa that the residents were not smiling, but looking toward the door in the hope and expectation that their son or daughter would enter. The sister added, "They are hurt because they are forgotten."

Claire Cloninger wrote: "Mother Teresa was reminded that day of something she had often observed in her work: that 'the poorest of the poor' are not the only ones who know poverty. There is poverty in the midst of great wealth. There is loneliness in the middle of crowded rooms. And all of us are hungry. Even the well fed have a hunger of the heart."

"Do you have any idea what you would have gotten yourself into?"

2006-11-25T22:36:00.000-05:00

On the way to my brother's house Thanksgiving morning, we stopped to visit with Louis' aunt and her sister - both widows in their 80's who look absolutely fantastic for their age. Some how the conversation became focused on nursing homes. Louis informed his aunt, as he has done numerous times in the past, that she doesn't even need to consider living in a nursing home because should she need the assistance, we would be delighted to have her live with us.

Louis' Aunt V had lived in a nearby nursing home and developed severe bed sores that eventually led to her death from infection. It was horrible, and totally preventable. Louis reminded his aunt and her sister that we had wanted Aunt V to come live us.

"Do you have any idea what you would have gotten yourself into?" Louis' aunt's sister quizzed us.

Turning to me Louis said, "We did it for two years for Pat's mom!"

"It was like caring for a 140 pound baby," I explained, "but I did it. I had to figure out many things for myself, but eventually I was able to get a hoyer lift to get mother in and out of bed and an alternating pressure mattress so I did not have to get up during the night to turn her."

"I bathed her, turned her, fed her, changed her, read to her, talked to her, and loved her," I added.

I miss her so very much. I would be so honored to still be caring for her if the Lord had let her stay here longer.

I really would.

Even without our conversation, I had been thinking about my mother a lot lately. She had been discharged from the hospital to the rehab center where daddy was in a nursing home because she had been having difficulty walking and couldn't be at home by herself, and it was on a Thanksgiving morning that the center called to tell me that they had sent mother to the hospital in an ambulance after finding her slumped over in her wheelchair and unresponsive.

For the first time, we had decided not to cook a big meal that Thanksgiving, but to help serve at a meal being provided by a local church. Instead, we headed three hours north to the hospital where mother had been taken and the nursing home where my daddy was living.

Memories of many of the details of the next week and a half are sketchy, but my mother's health continued to decline, and my father died after a brief hospitalization just 10 days after Thanksgiving.

A few days before Christmas, my bedridden mother was moved into our home.

The truth is that I really didn't have any idea what I had gotten myself into, but I knew that I could love on my mother and provide much better care for her than she was receiving in an institution.

I won't lie. It was hard - very hard, and even though I did not know what I had gotten myself into - I really would do it again.

Washing Feet

2006-10-27T16:15:00.000-04:00

While caring for my mother, maintaining her skin integrity was a priority. As a professional nurse, I knew how easy it was to develop bed sores, as well as how difficult they can be to heal. After only two weeks in a nursing home, she was dehydrated, with dry, scaly skin, and had developed decubitus (bed sores) on both heels. It wasn't until we moved her out of the nursing home and into ours that we discovered the sores on her heels. Fortunately, with proper treatment, her bed sores healed, and I began a practice of massaging her feet twice a day. She never developed another decubitus.

My routine for caring for mother's skin, with an emphasis on pressure points included:
- Keeping her clean with daily baths using Dove soap with moisturizers.
- Rubbing her skin with moisturizers after her bath and at bedtime, massaging her back, heels, elbows and hands twice a day.
- Using clean clothing, pajamas and socks every day.
- Changing all bed linen every day.
- Keeping her hydrated. Mother never asked for anything, but she would drink whatever I offered her.
- Providing a balanced diet with adequate protein. I gave her an ensure every day.
- Using heel protectors. When she was out of bed and sitting up in her Geri-chair, I kept her feet in boots like these that were lined with lambskin and kept her heels from touching the chair.

- Changing her position to rotate pressure points. Mother was unable to change her own position. While she was in bed, I would turn her every two hours. During the night, the use of an alternating pressure mattress made it possible for me to sleep for several hours without waking to turn her. Using a hydraulic lift, I moved her from the bed to the geri chair after her morning bath. After lunch I would put her back in her bed and on either side for a few hours, to relieve the pressure from sitting in the chair. She went back to her chair before supper and then back to bed later in the evening.
-Keeping her cool and her skin dry. I had to be alert for her tendency in our humid climate to develop perspiration.

What does love mean?

2006-09-22T10:10:00.000-04:00

This is not the first time I have received the email of children's responses to the question: "What does love mean?", but I thought this one was most appropriate to share here:

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca- age 8

Can you help carry the burden?

2006-08-10T06:10:00.000-04:00

Anonymous left this comment in The typical caregiver...

Interesting articles, I can relate to both in some ways. I am 38 have been caring for my 79 year old mother for the past 5 years and it's like my world has fallen apart. She requires a LOT of care and is somewhat un-thankful of all that I do for her. I'm not asking for an award or anything like that, but it would be nice for her to be pleasant and not order my husband and I around constantly.

Anon, I very much admire your willingness to care for your mom. I know that it must be very difficult. As I look at the difference in your ages, I am reminded that this is the exact difference in the age of my daughter and me, and I wondered if she will need to care for me some day. If she does, I pray that I will be pleasant and not demanding.

As a registered nurse, I encountered many patients with difficult and demanding personalities, and almost without exception, the nursing staff would avoid them if at all possible. What I have observed about older people is that they are often demanding because they are afraid or lonely. Avoiding them only increases that fear and loneliness. What we learned was that if we appeared more interested in them, checked in on them more often, or went out of our way to offer special care and attention, they would more often than not, become much more pleasant to work with, as well as less demanding.

Since I've been taking care of her-I had to cut my hours at work to part time, have to get by on anywhere from 0 to 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night, have had 2 miscarriages, been on a constant struggle at work(I've made mistakes and got written up), am no longer able to keep in contact with my friends, do not go out socially, worry about my husband leaving because we don't have much quality time together, my blood pressure and cholesterol levels have skyrocketed (I had to give up going to the gym), have gained weight, I also paint and am on the verge of giving that up completely because the only painting I get to do is at the expense of sleep.

Bless your heart - you really could use some help! This is one of those situations that I strongly believe the Church needs to embrace. Do you attend a church? If so, I would encourage you to make an appointment with your pastor and make him aware of your situation and needs. Many churches have a parish nurse on staff that help you connect with the resources - both inside and outside the church - that you need.

A Stephen Ministry caregiver might also be very helpful if your mother is receptive. If your church does not have a Stephen Ministry, find out who in your community does. A Stephen Minister is a lay person who can visit with your mom on a regular basis and provide friendship and a listening ear. One of my dearest friends, who works full time outside the home, has an elderly mother living with her. Now that her mother has a Stephen Minister visiting her once a week, her mother has been much less lonely and demanding on my friend.

Are there any adult daycare centers in your area that your mother could attend a day or two a week? At first, my father resisted going, but he quickly adjusted and looked forward to the days he was able to go.

Also, I have no siblings, no relatives who live close by, all I have for help is my husband, a visiting nurse who comes in once a week and a home health aide who comes twice a week who is NO help at all. What is a home health aide suppose to do? The one we have is slick, she figured out that if she comes after I've left for work the commode is already emptied and cleaned, her colostomy stuff is already cleaned (my mom has a bag and she empties the continents into a urinal several times a day)so all the home health aide does is give her a sponge bath and makes the bed. Sometimes she washes my mom's hair, we have a hose in the kitchen sink for that. The home health aide just takes the dirty dishes out of the sink, does her hair then puts the dirty dishes back in. I do not have time for dishes before I leave for work, I have the commode, the colostomy, get her breakfast, her meds, and so on.

Once I moved my mother into our home, I only had the help of my husband and children, as well. It is very difficult, I know. I also understand the strain on a marriage and though our marriage survived that season, I can look back and see that we should have taken better care of our relationship with each other, so I urge you to do just that. I am assuming that your husband is as willing to have your mother in your home as my husband was to have my mother here, but the situation places a huge burden on a marriage relationship.

My mother had very few monetary assets, but we made the decision early on that we would not be concerned with trying to save any of them. We used as much of mother's money as we felt necessary to provide the best care for her we could, and sometimes that meant taking care of us. I was fortunate to find an agency that could provide half-day care for mother so that I could leave the house from time to time. Even though it was expensive, it was worth it.

I had a friend who was willing to stay with mother so that I could go out of town, and my nephew and his wife also stayed with mom one weekend. I should have asked for more help from my friends at church, but I didn't want to impose. I know now that it would not have been an imposition. I was probably just too proud to ask for the help I really needed.

It sounds to me like you need to discuss the problems you are having with the caregivers that are coming into your home with the agency that is providing them. When my mother was first moved into our home, Medicare provided an aide 2-3 days a week, but fortunately, I was at home while they were here. All they did was give mother a bath and help me wash her hair once a week, but mother's care required two people.

I cannot imagine how stressful my life would have been if I had to work outside the home and care for my mother, too, but I had stopped working outside the home years before I became a caregiver to my mother. I believe that one of the reasons we are faced with this crisis in health care and the elderly is because so many woman with families have chosen careers outside the home and are now unavailable to care to for the elderly as in past generations.

That doesn't help anon, though, and I pray that I do not burden her with guilt for working outside the home. She desperately needs help where she is right now.

We, the church, must open our eyes to the needs of those around us. The bottom line in the headmistress' Love Thy Neighbor at The Common Room was:

"Christians ought to be a warm and vibrant part of that community."

She was comparing the difference between personal charity and government assistant to the poor and needy, but the same principal applies to those like anon who need help in caring for their elderly parents at home.

Can you imagine the impact - the evangelistic outreach - if every Christian family would provide even one hour a week, or half a day or day a month, of respite care or provide meals or housekeeping to a caregiving family in their neighborhood, community, or church?

There are woman just like anon all around us. We need spiritual eyes to see them, and the love of Christ to move us to action.

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Galatians 6:2

The typical caregiver....

2006-08-09T19:31:00.000-04:00

....according to a report by Faiza Elmasry at Voice of America....is a women who is 46 years old, with a job outside the home, and spends 20 hours a week caring for a mother who leaves nearby.

In her report, Elmasy quotes author Mary Lou Quinlan, who discourages women from leaving their jobs to care for family.

I totally disagree.

Listen to Elmasry report here.

Jennifer is a 37 year old divorced woman who no longer works outside the home so that she can care for her 97 year old grandmother. Read about Jennifer and her grandmother Donna here. They sound like quite a pair!

When I am old...

2006-07-24T13:20:00.000-04:00

Tracey was very kind to bring attention to "Washing the Feet of the Saints" in her Christian Women Online Blog post yesterday. In her post, "...when I am old..." , Tracey humbly shares her rather brief employment at a nursing home when she was a very young adult, and how she has been blessed to witness the generations in her family as they have lovingly cared for each other over the years. Tracey - thank you - and welcome to all of you who have found your way to this place by way of Tracey and Christian Women Online.

Tracey mentioned how touched she was by the black and white photograph of my parents' hands here. I wrote the Beauty of Winter about that photograph, a section that was cropped from a photograph taken by my nephew Michael White. It is a stark reminder to me of both the sanctity of human life, and the desire we have to reach out to those we love in our time of need.

Tracey also indicated that I am presently a caregiver - if only it were so. My father died 7 years ago, and my mother 5. I miss both of them more than words can express, and would give almost anything to have them still with us, but that would be selfish. I am comforted, however, to know that they are no longer encumbered and trapped by the diseases, pain and suffering that characterized their final years on earth and firmly convinced that they are rejoicing in their eternal life with Christ in Glory.

My caregiving years began on the road, as I traveled back and forth from my home to my parents' - more and more frequently, as their health deteriorated over time. My brother and his family, who lived in the same house with my parents, met most of their needs before my father's death, when we moved my mother into our home.

My father was in a nursing home for just 2 1/2 months before his death. Despite my objections, my mother had been rather insistent that my father move into the nursing home. Though it was a nice, clean facility, I believe that it was living in the nursing home that ultimately led to his death. Over the 2 1/2 months that my father was in the nursing home, my mother's health rapidly spiraled downward. After 3 hospitalizations and as many stays in the rehab center connected to my father's nursing home, my mother went from walking to using a cane, to using a walker, to not being able to walk or stand. When dad entered the nursing home, mother was able to perform all her activities of daily living and manifested only minor memory impairment. Two and 1/2 months later she couldn't even brush her own teeth and had no short-term memory - and no one - not even her team of doctors - knew exactly what had happened.

Two weeks after my father's death, with bedsores on both heels, dehydrated and malnourished, my mother made the three hour trip in a medical transport van from the rehab center to our home. It was a time of unparralled grief for me, and the beginning of the experience that I hope to share in much greater detail - offering hope and encouragement to others - here at Washing the Feet of the Saints.

"I see to the necessary things now"

2006-07-24T09:45:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, I discovered a teaching on what it means to honor the elderly by Walter Wangerin - a writer, Lutheran minister, and University Professor from Valparaiso, Indiana. In this teaching, Pastor Wangerin shares the poignant story of his friend Melvin - a touching example of honoring through family caregiving:

"By the smell in the room I knew what Melvin was doing. He was cleaning the waste away of his mother. He was washing her and changing her diapers. My friend Melvin was keeping the commandment of God, honoring his mother. While he was doing it, he was singing, singing in the tongue of her childhood, in German softly. [Singing in German ] And then I understood something else, too. His mother was not in pain. His mother was in joy. She was also singing at the top of her lungs "Yaah, na na na nah!" and I have no doubt that the woman felt as beautiful as she did when she was a child running free in the fields with a yellow dress and with a ribbon in her hair."

Pastor Wangerin concludes his teaching with these words:

"When I am asked: How is the nation? What about the community? Will it last, Walt? Is it healthy? Then I think of Melvin, and I say the signs are good. When anyone of us with elders grant unto that elderly the honor of God so that God becomes the nexus between us and the older generation, then generation by generation we drop deep roots. The honor itself becomes the very stuff of our society. And yes, yes, we shall live long in the land that God has given us."

As I read Pastor Wangerin's story about Melvin and his mother, I remembered a book - Love You Forever, by Robert Munsch - that my mother gave to me nearly twenty years ago when it was first released. It is the story of a boy and his mother...and the song the mother sang to her son from the time he was a newborn - a song that expressed a love for her son that transcended time and circumstances. In the end, the roles are reversed, and the son not only sings this same song to his newborn daughter, but to his elderly mother , as he tenderly rocks her in her time of need.

"I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my Mommy you'll be."

"Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone."

Psalm 71:9

This looks interesting...

2006-07-20T09:30:00.000-04:00

Quiet Care

"State working on plan to help elderly stay at home"

2006-07-20T09:06:00.000-04:00

According to this article the state of North Dakota Department of Human Services has determined that:

Helping seniors and the disabled live in their own homes is the goal of a quadrennial plan that state officials have nearly completed.

And it is an admirable goal - except that it continues to assume that the responsibility for keeping the elderly at home or in the home of family caregivers lies with the state and not with the family.

The draft of a report outlining their plan for achieving this goal can be read here.

Last evening I had a long conversation with a young mother who was curious about my plans when Emily leaves home, and wondered if I would return to my nursing career. I explained to her that I made the decision after my mother died to no longer keep up my certification - that I had been away from nursing too many years to safely practice without considerable re-education, but that doesn't mean that my education and skills cannot be used in a different way.

Helping families to understand the stay-at-home options for family caregiving and giving caregivers the confidence and tools to do so apart from government/tax payer support is my goal, and like the state of North Dakota, I'm working on a plan.

Divine appointments

2006-07-14T15:38:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the last Thursday that the ladies ministry Emily babysits for met for the summer. During the school year, I attended the study, but for a variety of reasons, I decided not to do so over the summer. Instead, I have scheduled doctor's appointments, or brought in my laptop and worked in the church lobby while Emily worked in the nursery.

Except for the group of men from a local halfway house that cleans the church building, the ladies in the study group and one or two ladies that work in the pastor's office, no one else usually comes into the church on Thursday mornings and the front doors are kept locked.

Yesterday, I was working on my laptop, when I an older gentleman came to return a wheelchair that he had borrowed from the church. After we decided on a good place to leave it where someone would put find it and put it in its proper place, I returned to the couch near the front door where I had been working, and the gentleman occupied the chair near by. Something in our conversation had prompted him to stay - though I can't recall what it might have been.

The gentleman told me that he and his wife, both in their early 80's, had been members of the church since the 1950's - that he had been a deacon and had served in multiple leadership positions over the years - but that caring for his wife had made it impossible for him to be involved like he had been.

He told me that his 14 year old grandson was at home with his wife, which was why he was able to leave her for a while, and that she had recently been discharged from a rehab center where she had recovered from surgery for a broken hip; and as our conversation continued, he revealed to me that she suffered from dementia, as well. "She has learned to use the walker," the gentleman explained, "but if I don't watch her all the time, she forgets and tries to walk without it. I'm afraid that she will fall again."

As he continued to describe her dementia, I let him know that I understood. We shared a variety of caregiving experiences and challenges, like helping someone with dementia understand that a loved one has died. I told him about my mother and how she would say, "I haven't seen your dad lately." Instead of reminding her of dad's death and watching her grieve all over again, I learned to repond with, "I haven't seen him either, mom."

The genleman told me, "They tried to get me to put her in a nursing home."

"What did you tell them?" I asked.

"I told them that maybe I will have to some day, but not now. That this is why God let me survive a heart attack 15 years ago, and as long as I can care for her myself, I will."

We talked for quite a while before he concluded that his grandson might be worried and that maybe he should leave. I told him to contact me if there was ever anything I could do to help - and I hope he knows that I meant it.

And I silently prayed for him, thanking God for this divine appointment. I hope I was able to encourage him, Lord. I prayed for the rest of his family - that they will be like Aaron and Hur and hold up their father's arms if he grows unable to do so himself.

"Give a Caregiver a Break" Essay Contest for Family Caregivers

2006-06-15T07:31:00.000-04:00

Caring Today Magazine is hosting an essay contest for family caregivers with $10,000 in prizes. Home Instead Senior Care is co-sponsoring this contest.

Every caregiver has a tale to tell. Tell us yours in 500 words or less for your chance to win the GRAND PRIZE worth $5,000 or a FIRST PRIZE worth $2,500! Let us know about the day-to-day experience of caregiving: How you’ve embraced the role of caregiver for a senior loved one, what impact it’s had on you, how you’ve inspired others and how a Home Instead CAREGiver could make a difference in your life. Submit your entry online no later than 11:59 p.m. July 15, 2006 , or mail your typed entry to Essay Contest, c/o Caring Today, 1465 Post Road East, Westport, CT 06880. Mailed entries must be postmarked by July 15, 2006.

Caregiving youth

2006-05-29T20:20:00.000-04:00

Three graduating high school seniors from Boca Raton, Florida, are the first national recipients of a new scholarship honoring caregiving youth.

From the Boca Raton News: Scholarships given to caregiving HS students

These stories represent examples of the 1.4 million children who are young caregivers and the thousands of young caregivers who live in Palm Beach County. Young Caregivers in the U.S. is the first national report about children-18 years of age and under who are caring for a family member. The majority (72 percent) assist a parent or grandparent, the report said.

The American Association of Caregiving Youth has an interesting website. While I have not read everything there, I am impressed with what I have read so far.

My children all assumed various roles at different times for the care of my father and mother, and I am very proud of them for doing so.

"Do not cast me away when I am old.."

2006-05-27T19:17:00.000-04:00

(Originally posted on February 26, 2006 here.)

I hardly know where to begin to share my heart on this issue of family caregiving, but I have waited long enough to figure it out – so I will just jump in!

Please understand my anxiety in broaching this subject, because it is not my desire to cast stones. My only hope is to share my experience, and to offer inspiration and encouragement.

That isn’t entirely true. I also believe it is what God is calling me to do. I can’t tell you how many ways He has made that obvious to me over the past few years – but even more so in recent months – or how many times I have tried to talk Him out of it.

Just this afternoon I had a conversation with Him about it. It was rather one-sided, because I really just wanted Him to listen to me, and I’m quite confident that He wasn’t interested in arguing with me about it any more, anyway. I told Him that there are so many others who speak and write much more eloquently and intelligently than I do (as though He didn’t already know that!), and that surely there must be someone else that He is calling to do this instead of me.

Instead of letting me off the hook, He sent me more “signs”.

So, I’ve given up arguing with God about it, and I am trusting Him to make up for my numerous inadequacies.

Even with my training as a professional nurse, I was totally unprepared for my own experience, and yet because I had been a nurse, I had the confidence to do what I might have otherwise considered impossible. But that is an important point I want to make. I didn’t need to be a nurse to do what I did, but because I was a nurse, I hope I can help others to understand that it isn’t necessary.

One of fields I practiced nursing in was hemodialysis. Every day, family members of hemodialysis patients undergo training to be able to provide hemodialysis treatments at home, rather than the patient having to spend half a day, several times a week, at a hemodialysis center. Many family members are wiling to be trained to do this procedure for their family member at home, and that is just one example of how even a person with no medical background can be trained in caring for patients who need complicated treatments.

As a professional nurse, I knew that I could learn all I needed to learn to care for my mother in my home, and I am here to tell you that you can, too!

I know I am going to step on toes here, but not only do I want you to know that you have the ability to care for your parents when they are elderly, but I believe that in many, if not most, circumstances that you should. (Exodus 20:12)

I also know that there are exceptions. Beverly was a homeschooling mom of several young children that I knew years ago. Both of Beverly’s parents had Alzheimer’s and needed help with activities of daily living, so Beverly moved them into her home.

Beverly and her husband were more than willing to make whatever sacrifices were necessary to honor her parents by keeping them out of a nursing home and at home with them, but her mother would chase the children and threaten them with knives. Beverly obviously needed to protect her children, but it broke her heart to move her parents into a nursing home in order to do so. Beverly, however, was motivated by her love for her parents, and not a desire to be free of responsibility.

Because of the growing number of elderly in our country, I believe that the next wave of the pro-life movement will be how we show that we value the life of our severely handicapped and elderly. As pro-life Christians, we have been given an opportunity to demonstrate our belief that all human life is sacred, that our elderly were created in the very image of God, and that we are just as willing to lovingly care for and protect our aging and needy parents as we are our precious babies.

A couple of weeks ago, I created a Psalm 71:9 blogroll, but have waited until now to invite others to join me. If you believe, as I do, that it is an honor and privilege to be able to provide for our elderly parents when their “strength is gone”(Psalm 71:9) in the same way we provide for our children and you are willing to place the Psalm 71:9 link in your blog, please email me ( pollywogcreekporch@gmail.com ) and I will be delighted to add you to the blogroll.

"Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.” Psalm 71:9

I would also love to hear from you. Please do not hesitate to contact me. If I don’t know the answer to your question, I will do my best to find an answer for you, and I will always consider it an honor to pray for you.

In Christ ~ Patricia