The Burrow

Hospitals are great places to be if you are ill or broken.  If you are trying to fix levels of medication in an elderly body, they might not be the perfect venue.  No one sleeps in a hospital; there is too much noise, too many lights, too many finger sticks at 4am.  No one eats well in a hospital either, even when the food is as delicious as that at UAMC. Though the transition was difficult, everyone is glad that G'ma is back at the pod-castle.  She needs rest and TLC.  Both are found in abundance there. ***** There ought to be a list, handed to every family member upon admission.  It should tell you how to solve basic problems.  What if the nurse is unnecessarily testy? Who will make the discharge decision?  How will that information be communicated to the staff and the family?  Who makes the phone call to arrange transportation home? Where do you park when you're picking up the dischargee?  Where should compliments be sent? Facts...

She's home. Snuggled under the blanket she crewel worked herself, a full bowl of Kisses at her elbow, the tv turned to NCIS because we both agree that Mark Harmon is worth looking at, she is as comfortable as she's going to get. The staff who've been transferred to another pod-castle within the complex stopped by to hug her and welcome her back. They were worried about her, they were glad to see her up and smiling, they were teary and grateful and G'ma was overwhelmed. She's not a woman who enjoys being the center of attention. Compliments make her uncomfortable.  She recognized none of the huggers and smilers but it didn't make any difference.  She was overwhelmed by the emotion, by the warmth, by the love. I couldn't ask for more. Well, I could, but I wouldn't get it. I've adjusted my expectations to conform to our reality.   No Unhappy Days  has been my motto since G'ma moved to the desert's heat from New Jersey's ice storms....

G'ma has a friend.  Glenna sits beside her at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  They chat, they observe, they judge, they comment, they laugh.  Meals last for hours; there's too much fun being had. Did you notice that I mentioned breakfast?  My mother, the queen, used to prefer her morning meal on a tray in her room. She didn't have to bathe, or change from her jammies.  Her flakes and coffee were waiting for her when she roused herself from bed and made her way to her recliner. Over the past months, she's been waking up earlier and earlier, with less and less prodding.  No one knows why her internal clock decided to reset itself, but reset itself it did.  My night owl parent is now an early riser. Will wonders never cease? Glenna doesn't seem to care that Mom can't remember, from day to day, where she is or who has been sitting beside her for months.  Glenna remembers my name, and that clue from a table mate has led to more "Hi, Suzi" greeting...

The pod castle called last night. At 9:35pm, to be precise.  When the phone rings that late I just know it's got to be bad news.  This time it wasn't.  At least I don't think it was.  I'll tell you, and then you can decide for yourself. Two facts you need to know: It's taken many months to convince G'ma that she should leave the door to her apartment open.  She's unlikely to seek out company on her own.  With the door open, other residents and staff can drop in to share her chocolate kisses and watch Law'n without feeling that they are intruding.  Being surrounded by the activities of daily living was part of the pod castle's allure; the open door helps her stay connected. Bob lives next door to G'ma.  He's wheel-chair bound and not very connected to the world around him.  He also has a tendency to call for help, loudly, persistently, plaintively, randomly, several times a day.  Perhaps he's maneuvered his wheelchair into the do...

I've been putting off writing this post.  Every time I think about writing it I get sad.  I am not sure where I'm going to end up with this, but if you're hoping for light-heartedness, I think you'd better search elsewhere. When the Cuters were little, I used to laugh when hearing about "the terrible twos."  To my mind, it was no worse than the threes or the fours or the tens, and certainly not worse than the 12's.  It was a stage, and it would pass.  More often, the new behaviors were worse than the previous ones, but at least they were horrible in a new way.  The novelty of it all helped me get through the days, and, in the end, I held onto the knowledge that they would, eventually, with the passage of time, become adults who could be responsible for managing their own stages themselves.  When things changed, I had to remind myself that it was all for the good.  Aging meant growing and developing;  it was my job to keep them safe while ge...

Ronni Bennett is the proprietor of Time Goes By , a blog for people who aren't interested in organic baby food recipes any more. She wrote about her frustration with the cultural perception of aging. Youth preservation and ill health seem to cover it all. Where, she wonders, are the visuals of those of us who are aging without surgery, triathlons and a pre-occupation with our medical conditions. She got me thinking about G'ma. My mother - known here as G'ma - sleeps in late, has her breakfast brought to her on a tray, reclines on her couch, ignores the activities available to her in the pod-castle she now calls home, and always has a smile on her face. When asked if she'd like some more excitement in her life her reply is always the same: "It's taken me 86 years to figure this out - leave me alone!" It's that understanding of the way life is (walker and pills and all) and the acceptance of what is possible that is so striking to me about her...

One year ago, G'ma was in the rehabilitation hospital trying not to melt into the bed. Friday night she was in the middle of the Happy Ladies Club cocktail party in my living room. If I'm going to beat myself up when she rolls off the couch , I'm going to have to remember to revel in the times she's up and out and having fun. G'ma's a member of the Club, and we've been to luncheons and, of course, she's the cheerleader when we bowl. Not that she remembers any of this, but the women who've been there with us all recognize her limitations and they've learned to create conversations in which she can participate. The bowling ladies all spent time yakking with her and my hiking buddies each made a special effort to wonder why she didn't hike with us...... which led to G'ma demonstrating her exercise routine (bending and unbending her index finger) and laughing. Laughing is good. Those who didn't know her were respectful of her shor...

The Chief Dispenser of Care at G'ma's pod-castle asked if we had plans for tonight. There were 2 other Jewish ladies in the Community and, if I had no objections, the pod-castle would like to invite the 3 of them to a special Rosh Ha'Shana dinner in a neighboring pod-castle. All on their own, in a decidedly un-religious-though-leaning-towards-Christian environment, they are going out of their way to give G'ma the kind of experience she had when she managed her own living space. They thought it would make her happy. Any doubts I had about the wisdom of this move have vanished. L'shana tova tikatevu - May you have a GREAT new year, filled with sweetness and joy.

I am many things to many people. Mom. Friend. Hiking Buddy. Babysitter. Weighlifting Partner. Wife. Recently, though, I seem to have added another title - Reliable Informant. There were inklings of my new status while I lived in Marin. Around election time, people would begin to ask me " Who should I vote for?" Not "For whom are you voting?" Nope, they were asking me for the name they'd put on their ballot. We've all done it. Does your neighbor work in the courthouse? I bet you've asked her for recommendations on judges and district attorneys before you made your decision. I looked at my questioners in the same light. They knew I attended School Board meetings even before I was elected to serve. Closeness to the operation in question seems to be the go-to point when information can't be found elsewhere, I guess. And so often, especially on small local boards, the ability to get along with one another is the difference between success and or dissensi...