Mom’s parents, both in their mid-80’s, live an hour away, next door to my grandmother’s sister & brother-in-law (my great-aunt & -uncle).
My grandfather has senile dementia; he can’t wash/feed/dress/toilet himself without a large amount of prodding & assistance. This has been the case for at least a year. My grandmother has insisted that he not go into a nursing home - she’s been caring for him as best she can.
My parents just recently got her to agree to having a home health aide in for a couple hours a night. Other than that, the only help she gets is from my great-uncle, who occasionally “watches” Grandpop while she runs quick errands, & my mother (an only child), who drives out there one day every weekend to assist her. My father, sister & I pick up the stuff at home. It’s been stressful on my family, especially Mom.
So, today I get home from class at 1:30 to this gem of news from my sister: my great-uncle just called to let us know that my grandmother’s in the hospital, he’s watching Grandpop, & that she (my sis) should call Mom at work & tell her to go over to my grandparents’ home ASAP. He didn’t say what the ailment was.
So, Sis called my mother at work & told her to come home, which she did immediately. Mom packed an overnight bag, changed clothes, & drove out there. Turns out that Nana has two fractured hips. My mother said that even though Nana’s had swelling & pain in her lower extremities for the past six months, her legs had been particularly bothering her for about a week, but she never said anything like, “Gee, I think something might be very wrong here”
She was freaking tottering around on one of my old walkers with two fractured hips because she knew if she went to the hospital, things would fall apart.
And fall apart they have. Oh baby, have they.
My grandmother either had surgery tonight (I think so) or is tomorrow morning (I think not). Either way, she’s completely out of commission for at least a week & won’t ever be back to where she was pre-surgery - she’s 85!
The most immediate concern is, what to do with my grandfather this weekend. We can’t just pull a weekend aide out of our asses. People who wanna work weekends on no notice are hard to come by. My mother will have to stay out there all weekend. Dad’s heading out there tomorrow morning - he told my sister & I that we’d be better off staying home & doing housework & schoolwork.
As for a more immediate, long-term plan…
No hospitals will give Grandpop a bed 'cause he doesn’t need medical treatment. He has dementia, but he’s not sick sick. There’s nothing they could do for his dementia that would qualify as treatment.
We could place him in a nursing home, but there’s a document you need to keep updating every 90 days in order for a person to be eligible for a place in a nursing home (here in Nassau County, NY, anyhow) - my grandmother let the expiration date come & go.
It’ll be another week (if we’re lucky) before someone can come over to re-do the paperwork, then I dunno how long before everything gets done - another week or two, I’m guessing. What the hell’s going to be done between now & then?
I’d been afraid for a couple years that something like this was going to happen. The question loomed in my mind: “What if Nana goes first? What the hell are we going to do?” My parents thought the same thing, & that’s part of the reason that they pushed the nursing home thing a bit. That’s even besides the fact that, let’s be real, my grandmother can’t take care of his basic physical needs as well as a younger, strong, trained person could.
My grandmother apparently didn’t care (to some extent) about what might happen - she’s angry & depressed, & in denial. She’s all but outright said to my mother, “I’m going to let the situation ride to the inevitable boiling point, then I’ll let you handle it”
She didn’t want the guilt, I think, of being the one to place my grandfather in a nursing home. She didn’t want to deal with it at all, so she’s forced it all on my mother. I can empathize with her denial & not wanting to put Grandpop in a home, but it’s just so frustrating. He’d be better cared for there, she’d get at least a little healthier, & there would be less stress in the family.
The irony is that my grandfather, I hate to say, wouldn’t know that he was in a nursing home anyway. He doesn’t know us anymore - I wonder if he knows he exists. I kinda hope not.
Man, this sucks.