March Madness 2 Finding a care facility for Alzheimer's

It seems strange that I wrote so little in my diary about the Thursday we spent at care facilities--until I think of all the other things I was juggling at the time.

            Early that Thursday, I sent a birthday message to my son Jonathan, who was turning thirty-two.  Then I taught a class in Advanced Academic ESL—using the dictionary (so soon to be defunct) and beginning Kindred, the novel I’d assigned.  I went to my office to meet with a couple of students and found that Bob, my office mate, had written “Hi” with the small pieces of Vietnamese candy I’d brought back for him earlier in the year.

               It was pouring outside, and the weather seemed appropriate for what we were going to do—look for an assisted-living facility for Mom.

            Waiting for Kathy and Suzy at the Pleasant Hill Library, just a few blocks from their house, I watched the story lady and thought of Mom’s love of books and one little dream she gave up gracefully.  She’d wanted to be The Story Lady, but she soon found that children were more interested in using the computers.  She didn’t want the librarian to have to “round up” the children and make them listen.  I admired her for being brave and honest about this.  As a teacher, I was aware of how it felt to be passionately sharing something I want students to enjoy and then see them looking at the clock and realizing that I was not connecting.        

            When Kathy and Suzy arrived, we went to two facilities with assisted living, and one of the marketing directors seemed too much like a used car salesmen, so we tried another facility and were impressed by both the beauty of the place Aegis Living and the person who showed us around.  She looked almost too elegant with her stylish clothes and a hairstyle that was up-to-date.  But she had a very warm and compassionate manner—even as she disabused me of a misconception.  My misconception was that there was a blissful stage in Alzheimer’s.  I got this idea from the documentary Complaints of a Dutiful Daughter, which I’d seen in the mid-1990s.  Maybe Mom had seen it too.  I think I remember her commenting back then when she was totally with us on how fascinating it was.  I remembered that Deborah Kaufman’s mother was happy with Alzheimer’s.  For the first time, she enjoyed Ted Mac Amateur Hour instead of feeling contempt for it.  She enjoyed sing-alongs at the Alzheimer’s place.  I also thought about my next-door neighbor who had become so pleasant after memory loss and going on medication.  She told the same stories over and over again, but she seemed so happy telling those stories.  Before she’d been a little bit cantankerous. 

            So I asked Dee Jones, the woman showing us around, “At what point do they get to the blissful stage?” and she answered with sad sincerity, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person with Alzheimer’s who seemed happy or at peace.”

           

            We would try out Aegis we decided over lunch.

I wrote to my son and told him that the motto with Alzheimer's was "Hugs and drugs."  I begged him to give me both if my time came--at Aegis would be fine.