When my friend Bill’s mother’s primary care physician informed her that she would need round-the-clock support (because of one unexplained blackout), it was a shocker to her and her family.
What to do? Bill and his brother lived far enough away that they couldn’t provide their mom the required level of personal care. And their Mom was determined to remain in her hometown.
So, they checked out a few assisted living residences, and in an all-too-brief period decided on one. It had a good enough reputation and wasn’t far from her apartment. So, she moved in… and was pretty miserable for her remaining years. Given her temperament, she might have been unhappy no matter where she lived. But I can’t help wondering whether the residence where Bill’s mom moved was the main cause of her upset.
A man I’ll call George hired my friend, a social worker, to visit his “Uncle Milt.” George hoped my friend would persuade Milt, 96, to move from the home he loved on the East Coast to a nursing home in Nebraska near George. Uncle Milt, however, was firmly planted and said so loud and clear.
Changing roles is an inescapable byproduct of time. From your baby’s first step, to his first day at school — from the day she gets her driver’s license until her college dorm is in your rear view mirror — your role is changing. And your relationship evolves from all-knowing protector and teacher to “out to lunch” parent of a teen, to bankroller with a good idea once in a while, surprising your nearly grown college freshman.
When my father was 93, riddled with cancer, chronically nauseated, and living on opioids he suffered a major heart attack. In the hospital, doctors determined his death was imminent but didn’t tell him. Dad denied his condition was serious. He was furious to be given a room on the heart ward instead of the ICU.