January 18, 2017
When I got to the hospital on the 11th, they presented me with paperwork (the theme de jour) that mom had started working on. For her home address she used the address the Island house used to have. 15 years ago the postal service got tough and told the subdivision they had to change the name of the road because there simply couldn’t be two roads with the same name on the Island. Yesterday as I walked mom to the dining room, she told me there was cash in the lock box at the house in the Bay Area. While she corrected herself quickly, we haven’t lived there since 1979.
Mom’s time sense is just as poor as ever. She told a friend she’d been at the SNF ‘for most of a month, anyway.’ Earlier that morning I’d already told her it’d been five days. Today she told someone else she’s been here for two weeks. I don’t bother correcting her anymore.
We meet with her doctor tomorrow morning. The plan is to make an EEG appointment some ways out, and transfer her to an assisted living community on the mainland, near us, in the interim. The reasoning is that it is still unsafe for her to live on her own until we know why she spontaneously lost consciousness behind the wheel, twice. Then we sell her on how much nicer assisted living will be than the SNF. Meanwhile, while waiting for the EEG, mom will settle in.
Hopefully, she’ll be able to stay at the SNF long enough for me to get back to the mainland and vet a short list of assisted living communities. If not, she’ll stay at my daughter’s community while I do that vetting. My daughter worries her community will be too large, too overwhelming for her grandmother. At tens of thousands of square feet, I have to agree. At the SNF, mom can’t get to the dining room by herself after 6 days. An assisted living community modeled on the days of grand hotels will turn her around endlessly.
While this seems like a good solid plan, I fear that somehow, it’s all going to fall apart.