Just for Fun

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was moving, not even my Yorkie, Minnie Mouse.
The stockings were given to those with cold feet,
In hopes of more car repairs my son-in-law can complete.

The grandchildren were nestled, all snug in their new bath robes,
While visions of their mom's fudge, swam by their eyes and earlobes.
Daughter in her new thermal underwear top, and my hubby in his new winter cap,
Have settled down warmly for many more winter naps.

When right through my window, there arose some warm sunshine,
A sharp weather contrast to yesterday's rainstormy kind.
I ran to the window, where granddaughters had drawn
Many beautiful pictures with their new window crayons.

Adults have been coloring in their new coloring books,
While two little hermit crabs might be on the loose.
These crabs are good pets, the pet stores have assured us,
But of course, there are many accessories that allured us.

For now, we will put on our new lotions and creams,
And hope that the New Year will have many sunbeams.

Worth the Wait!

 I wasn't trying to hide from my caregiving duties, but the respite I just received by spending twelve days with my sister in Florida, has proven just the medicine I needed to face the unpredictability of overseeing Dean's care now that I've returned.

Keeping my Thanksgiving visit a secret from my sister was difficult, but I'm glad we did. She was as awestruck and happy as I was, when I walked in the house one day, totally unexpected. It was her Christmas present from her husband, and who could ask for a better one?!

Her tearful, happy response reminded me of how the righteous will react when Jesus gloriously comes again to reunite us with our loved ones and take us all together to heaven to be with Him there.

I've often wondered why the timing of Jesus' Second Coming is unknown to all but God Himself. But perhaps He wants to keep it a secret for the same reason we wanted to surprise my sister. What a thoughtful, loving God we have to give us the wonderful gift of His Return.

My sister, making our family's homemade noodles for Thanksgiving...very yum!

Two days after my return, we had a birthday party for Dean at the house. He had 3 ice cream bars, but also has 3 teeth left. His birthday smiles were worth waiting for. Many friends stopped by the house that afternoon to see him.

Friends to the Rescue

It's time I update my readers on Dean's new living arrangement. He was in a far-away town, much too far for me to feel comfortable driving in the winter, so after a week I was able to have him transferred to a closer town, only eight quick miles up the road.

The real bonus is that I am much more comfortable with this latest move. Everyone has given me good feedback on the care someone they know received at the Waverly Care Center. They really seem to be conscientious and caring there. I am quite relieved knowing that he's in such capable hands.

His blood sugars seem to be climbing, even on the diabetic diet they have him on, and I guess that's my greatest stress factor right now. Just where this will lead, I have no idea, but it doesn't sound promising.

I do know God is overseeing it all though. The first weekend I couldn't be with Dean in that town farther away, some church friends unexpectedly took it upon themselves to drive clear out of town to visit Dean and we both appreciated their gesture of love so much. Yes, God, I know you are watching out for Dean--wherever he is, even when we're not together.

...enjoying the breakfast Paul brought him the next morning--thank you guys, for taking care of my man!
Notice the little cell phone, hanging around his neck, I got him so he can call me whenever he wants. It does help, almost like prayer (our link to God, now that we are separated from Him on this earth)...

Our "Riches to Rags" Story

It's with a heavy heart that I report our sad story about Dean's new level of care this past week. In our minds we could see it coming a couple of months ago, but when his move finally became a reality, the emotional impact has hit me like a ton of bricks.

Dean's anger outbursts, although not different from what they were at home--just brief verbal profanity, followed by remorse and apologies--were not accepted or understood in the upscale assisted living environment he's enjoyed for the last three months.

This was not the fault of anyone; the staff there did their utmost to make it work. This particular setting was just not a good fit for Dean, which none of us could foresee. Dean appears so independent, mobility-wise, that we thought assisted living was worth a try for him. But most of the residents there were elderly women, and they and their families were understandably concerned about this lionly man, who proved capable of some very loud roaring at times.

(Even with the lack of socialization he eventually encountered there, I'm grateful for the three months of quality care this assisted living center provided for Dean during this difficult transition.)

Our search for another living arrangement was made even more challenging due to his being on Medicaid (there are only so many Medicaid beds available). His diabetes, still showing very high blood sugar levels, has made skilled nursing seem all the more appropriate for him.

In addition, I'm sure his anger issues resulted in many places also deciding against his placement, as he would have to be a good fit for a roommate. Medicaid does not pay for a private room.

We eventually found a facility that accepted him though. Unfortunately it's in a neighboring town, thirty miles from our home, which will prove quite a barrier for me to be able to see him as often as I'd like. Especially when winter hits, with Nebraska's notorious driving conditions on the smaller highways.

What was most depressing for Dean and me, however, was the fact that this particular skilled nursing center seems to be the final placement for many of the most severely disabled. I had visited many places in our hometown, so I wasn't expecting anything close to the luxuriant accommodations we were coming from, but nothing prepared me for the run-down conditions I witnessed where he's at now. It's a far cry from the environment Dean just came from.

Often this week my mind's gone to the Bible story of Joseph. Poor Joseph repeatedly fell from riches to rags, the opposite of a "rags to riches" story. First, as Jacob's favorite son, he found himself being dragged as a slave down to Egypt. Then after enjoying years as Potiphar's chief steward, he was sent to a filthy dungeon to suffer for a crime he didn't commit.

Fortunately, there was a happy ending for Joseph. And I'm sure God has a happy ending in mind for Dean and me too. He's preparing mansions for us in heaven. And they will be assisted living at its finest.

Thank you, Jesus, for offering to leave your beautiful surroundings in heaven and come down to this severely disabled planet. Your resurrection proved that our stories always end in riches, when we come to you for placement there.

Heels Dug In

The hardest part about taking care of Dean is convincing him that he needs to take care of himself. You'd think at seventy years of age he'd have this down pat. But our asking him to control his eating, wear his oxygen enough, and C-pap every night seems to be falling on deaf ears. I can't even convince him to change his socks every day!

My latest worry is that the pulmonologist has now determined he has COPD, not just sleep apnea, as we supposed. His pulmonary function test and chest X-ray revealed that his years of smoking are finally catching up with him and resulting in this shortness of breath he's been having. This, of course, makes it all the more critical that he wears the C-pap and oxygen as the doctors have told him.

Our frustration in getting Dean to cooperate must mirror the same response from our heavenly Father when we refuse to take care of our spiritual bodies as He's warned us. No wonder Jesus got so emotional with the scribes and Pharisees. They should have been at the forefront of the reforms Jesus was recommending. Instead those who listened at all were digging their heels in and refusing to budge.

Yep, that's the image I have of Dean at this point in his dementia care. Heels dug in, like a stubborn mule. Lord, give us patience with this cowboy. You must have a lot of patience somewhere out there!

Another Tumble

It's been quite awhile since Dean took a tumble, but this past weekend he chose to live up to his "fall risk" reputation. I thought he was safe to walk to the car by himself when I picked him up for church (no snow or ice yet, right?). He had forgotten to "sign out", so I quickly walked back into his new assisted living home to sign the notebook for that purpose.

Unfortunately, he kept walking on his own and plowed right into the curb by our car (at least that's what I think happened). Fortunately, there were a couple of men nearby to help him get up when I got there and he didn't appear to be injured very much. No blood and he assured me he hadn't hit his head. My, but that man falls gracefully. The hardest part is getting back up though.

Funny thing is, I've found it's always easier to fall than it is to get back up, isn't it? It didn't help that he has lost his eyeglasses somewhere that week, further hampering his already impaired vision. (He only sees with one eye.)

We need to keep our spiritual eyeglasses on and watch out for those curbs in life! Any of us could end up on the pavement, needing assistance from strangers. You'd think we'd learn from past experience, or better yet, from other people's experience.

Dean has fallen a great number of times. But haven't we all?

Choices

Dean seems to be enjoying the bounties of the assisted living home we found for him. As a matter of fact, he's enjoying them a bit too much this first month he's been there, we've been told. His weight has increased, and his blood sugar levels are not very satisfactory either. If they get much higher he'll be going back to the hospital.

Just as I knew it would be hard for me to do at home, getting Dean to take control of his own diet is proving to be a monumental task. And there's just no way it's going to get done without his cooperation and approval. He has to quit asking for seconds and sometimes third helpings, and even turn down some of the desserts.

This all sounds simple enough for us, but for someone with limited cognitive function and will-power, it can be very challenging. I have faith that it can be done though, and after a serious talk from the nurse there, I'm hoping Dean will be on board for the needed dietary changes he's not going to avoid with his new diagnosis of diabetes.

I'm glad they've waited this long to let him get adjusted to the staff and program. Now he can see the evidence of his wrong eating, by the medical record they've been keeping on him.

Dean's assisted living arrangement is a great spiritual illustration for me. Just like with any lifestyle or behavior choice, it belongs to no one but the person making it. God is always available for us though, just like the "call-button" Dean wears around his neck, in case he needs the nurses to come help.

God must be in the assisted living business too. He never bypasses our choices, allowing us to make bad choices just long enough to see the error of our ways. I hope I listen to His Holy Spirit and make any necessary life changes I might need to keep spiritually healthy and alert. We may fail to use it, but God's assistance never fails.