Good news, when you call 911 to say your elderly relative has fallen and you can't pick him up, they show up pretty quickly. And, as rumored, the firemen were tall, strong, attractive and fairly friendly.
At 3:30 I woke up to hear grandfather calling out on the baby monitor. We ran downstairs to find him caught (arms and shoulders) under the bed railing, with his legs stuck under the bed. Somehow in the dark he had changed his clothes, put on his shoes and fallen but I can't figure out how he got caught under that railing.
By the time I arrived to help him up he was exhausted from trying to free himself and hadn't any strength left. Not enough to sit up straight and definitely not enough to help push himself off the floor. I disentangled him from the sheets and bed rail so he could lay on the floor (on a pillow of course), threw some blankets on him and then my mother called 911 with a request that they not use the siren.
My grandfather knows everyone in the neighborhood having lived here since the late '50s and I didn't want anyone to think he had died. There are lots of elderly people around here, or there were, and every time an ambulance or fire truck arrives you think, well, there goes another. I didn't want to spend the weekend telling people that he's fine, it was nothing, especially as it's sort of not fine.
Usually I can get him off the floor by sliding him towards a chair, I sit in the chair and pull him up backwards, towards me, as he pushes with his legs -- once I get him on my lap I can slide out and voila, man in chair. He's not a small man, still over 6 feet tall, though once much taller, and recently reduced to 165lbs from his usual 185. That night, he was so limp and helpless it was like tugging on a big doll. The fireman on the other hand were able to pick him up easily and drop him in his chair, after which grandfather said to them, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been here."
Two seconds after we got him back in bed he was knocked out and sleeping like the proverbial baby, then up at 7am ready for his morning Boost and a conversation. By 8am I was ready to go back to sleep and he tells me that I sound tired, my eyes are bloodshot, and maybe I should get more sleep. He's right of course. I look tired and worried and haven't slept through the night in a few weeks and I'm terrible at taking naps.
On the bright side his physical therapist from the hospital showed up today, a friendly guy named Larry. He's given us 10 weight lifting exercises for grandfather along with instructions for doing the standing up exercises while grandfather is lying down. My grandfather turns into the Incredible Sulk when you try to get him to stand up, it is very rarely worth the fight. Perhaps if I set my alarm for 3am he'd be willing.
I have to end with this, I have yet to find a good bed alarm and that is what keeps me awake at night. I keep reading articles about people having to sleep in bed with or in chairs next to their elderly with sundowners, or that you sort of have to rig up an alarm on your own. Most of the alarms I've found require a pin to be pulled out, but he doesn't remember how the TV works half the time, how can I get him to pull a pin? They make cushions that make noise when your pet jumps on the sofa, how about something to let you know when your elder is about to take a header off the bed? Today my mother is off to buy some bells that we're going to stick on something (what?) flexible between the mattress and box springs on the side of the bed that he prefers. It seems more sensible in my head than it does when I read it.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sundowners and Sleepless Nights
Click this link to read an article on dementia and sundowners from the NY Times
I thought I'd share this article today as I spent last night awake, waiting to hear grandfather tumble out of bed, fall on his way to the bathroom or destroy the kitchen.
One of my best friends came over for dinner last night - and in the middle of dinner I found my dear elderly grandfather had gotten out of bed, removed all his clothing (including diaper) and was sitting in his recliner. He was totally at ease, absolutely naked and happily watching some French movie.
After my friend left my mother got him back in bed (I have no desire to deal with my grandfather when he is naked, there are limits), life returned to 'normal' but I could not sleep. Every random noise, no matter how small, had me running to his bedroom to make sure he was still under the covers, clothed, and sleeping. I would tell myself that whatever I'd heard could NOT possibly be him, but I felt compelled to get out of bed and check anyway. Ridiculous.
Today I'm the tired and cranky one while he is relaxed and happy, eyes bright and wide open. I can't see straight and he's throwing back pudding cups.
I should add that there is a baby monitor in his room, an excellent monitor. The problem is that he can maneuver out of bed (a bed with a bed rail I also should add) without making a sound. That's right, a 93 year old man who has not gone to the bathroom alone in weeks and who can barely stand, can, in the night, crawl noiselessly out of his bed, stand up on his own, remove his clothing, cross his room to a chair and plop down. From 4am - 4pm he is helpless and week and tired, from 4pm - 4am he is SuperMan.
Thanks sundowners!
I thought I'd share this article today as I spent last night awake, waiting to hear grandfather tumble out of bed, fall on his way to the bathroom or destroy the kitchen.
One of my best friends came over for dinner last night - and in the middle of dinner I found my dear elderly grandfather had gotten out of bed, removed all his clothing (including diaper) and was sitting in his recliner. He was totally at ease, absolutely naked and happily watching some French movie.
After my friend left my mother got him back in bed (I have no desire to deal with my grandfather when he is naked, there are limits), life returned to 'normal' but I could not sleep. Every random noise, no matter how small, had me running to his bedroom to make sure he was still under the covers, clothed, and sleeping. I would tell myself that whatever I'd heard could NOT possibly be him, but I felt compelled to get out of bed and check anyway. Ridiculous.
Today I'm the tired and cranky one while he is relaxed and happy, eyes bright and wide open. I can't see straight and he's throwing back pudding cups.
I should add that there is a baby monitor in his room, an excellent monitor. The problem is that he can maneuver out of bed (a bed with a bed rail I also should add) without making a sound. That's right, a 93 year old man who has not gone to the bathroom alone in weeks and who can barely stand, can, in the night, crawl noiselessly out of his bed, stand up on his own, remove his clothing, cross his room to a chair and plop down. From 4am - 4pm he is helpless and week and tired, from 4pm - 4am he is SuperMan.
Thanks sundowners!
It started with a stroke...
I've been taking care of my grandfather for about 10 years. He had a stroke, I volunteered to take care of him and I am still here. Taking care.
Over the years friends have suggested I write a blog about my experiences but, being a rather freakishly private person, I couldn't bring myself to it. However, now that I've years of experience, I find that I have become a small font of information on the ways and means of taking care and I want to share what I've learned - and as being a caregiver becomes increasingly difficult I am extremely open to learning from others.
My grandfather is now 93. Some days he is unable to speak or walk or open his eyes. Other days he does better than that. He had high blood pressure but that has, strangely, disappeared. He has spinal stinosis, senile dementia, prostate problems, personality changes since the stroke, and has recently become incontinent. Sundowners has been a problem off and on for the past five years. He's loving and gentle most of the time, dark and angry and violent at others thanks to the dementia. My grandfather is addicted to westerns, porn (that is not a typo), ice cream and bacon. I try to be accommodating to most of his needs, but can only handle so much.
Yesterday a new home health nurse came to the house. A cute and petite dark haired nurse, not particularly friendly but not exactly unpleasant. My grandfather tried to flirt with her - his opening line was "Didn't we go to kindergarten together?" The nurse utterly ignored him so he followed up with the always classic, "Haven't we met somewhere before?" Meanwhile she's taking his blood pressure and asking me questions as if he isn't actually human, or speaking. As the nurse is listening to his heart he throws out the best line ever, "Don't get too close sweetheart, you know, I have a reputation." Then he winked.
The nurse sighed and gave me, an "I'm sick of horny old men" look and went on with the exam. All I could think was that the previous week everyone, including both me and his doctor, thought he'd be dead this week and isn't it fabulous, albeit embarrassing, that he's flirting. And alive.
Over the years friends have suggested I write a blog about my experiences but, being a rather freakishly private person, I couldn't bring myself to it. However, now that I've years of experience, I find that I have become a small font of information on the ways and means of taking care and I want to share what I've learned - and as being a caregiver becomes increasingly difficult I am extremely open to learning from others.
My grandfather is now 93. Some days he is unable to speak or walk or open his eyes. Other days he does better than that. He had high blood pressure but that has, strangely, disappeared. He has spinal stinosis, senile dementia, prostate problems, personality changes since the stroke, and has recently become incontinent. Sundowners has been a problem off and on for the past five years. He's loving and gentle most of the time, dark and angry and violent at others thanks to the dementia. My grandfather is addicted to westerns, porn (that is not a typo), ice cream and bacon. I try to be accommodating to most of his needs, but can only handle so much.
Yesterday a new home health nurse came to the house. A cute and petite dark haired nurse, not particularly friendly but not exactly unpleasant. My grandfather tried to flirt with her - his opening line was "Didn't we go to kindergarten together?" The nurse utterly ignored him so he followed up with the always classic, "Haven't we met somewhere before?" Meanwhile she's taking his blood pressure and asking me questions as if he isn't actually human, or speaking. As the nurse is listening to his heart he throws out the best line ever, "Don't get too close sweetheart, you know, I have a reputation." Then he winked.
The nurse sighed and gave me, an "I'm sick of horny old men" look and went on with the exam. All I could think was that the previous week everyone, including both me and his doctor, thought he'd be dead this week and isn't it fabulous, albeit embarrassing, that he's flirting. And alive.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)