Jack and I have been having real difficulty in our aunt’s health situation. She continues to complain about pain, prefers to stay in bed, changing clothes is not thought of, has some “accidents”, will eat some food but going to the dining room is a chore, doesn’t watch TV (can’t hear but insists she can), nor does she read as she used to (at least the newspaper though old issues). Sometimes she’ll sit up with us for awhile until she hurts or until we have to leave. Lately, one can see the disappointment on her face when we tell her we have to leave, but she says she understands. That is so hard!!! It’s actually easier to leave her when she wants to be in bed and sleep. Her tiny 68# body is hard to find in that big double bed; but because of her hump on her back she has to lie on her side creating somewhat of a bulge in the bed.
We went to St. Anne’s yesterday with the intention of talking to the nurse/supervisor, Pam about what to do next….nursing home? We thought more activity around her would be good, and we just didn’t think she could manage alone in her apartment anymore. Pam said that she and Jill, the social worker, had just discussed Phyllis’ case and determined that they would like to have Hospice come in and see if they could somehow help to snap Phyllis out of her depression. Perhaps music therapy, reading to her, massage, hot moist cloths to relax, etc., might help. They felt that being in the nursing facility wouldn’t be much different than the “assisted living” and would like to have “Hospice” come in and evaluate her. Apparently, this type of “hospice” does not indicate imminent death and eventually, she’d be reevaluated to see if it is helping.
We left there feeling somewhat encouraged and hopeful and yet she is so constantly on my mind even to the extent of waking to the thought of her plight or shall I say “journey”? The whole situation can certainly bring one’s own frame of mind down. In fact, yesterday after the visit, I said to Jack something to the effect that my mind is so consumed with Phyllis that I forget that he is sick and I don’t worry enough about him! Tears were gathering in my eyes. He said: “I’m not sick.” Somehow, I know God will help us with Jack’s need for a kidney and right now we’re supposed to be taking care of Phyllis. Hard though it may be.
