Caring for the Elderly Part 17

My Mother moved into a care home on April 7th this year. Her health was already very poor due to her age (91).  She was bed bound, partially sighted, suffering from increasing hearing loss and unable to feed herself. Rapid onset dementia meant that her behaviour had become erratic and she was a danger to herself. Hence her caring needs could no longer be safely managed within a home environment. Fortunately the care home proved a good choice. For the past four months they have provided outstanding care and have treated my Mother with dignity, respect and genuine kindness. Sadly, during that time my Mother had several bouts of illness that saw her hospitalised four times. Eventually a PEACE plan (Proactive Elderly Advanced Care) was set up allowing treatment to be managed by the care home and local GP. Since July my Mother has enjoyed a stable environment and continuity of care.

This Thursday I was notified by staff at the care home that my Mother’s health was declining rapidly and that she was not expected to survive the week. I went to visit her and found that she had lost even more weight and was very gaunt. She was not aware of my presence and was focusing all her efforts on breathing. It is a sobering experience to see a parent who was once so indefatigable and energetic, reduced to such a frail and pitiable state. But such is the nature of life and old age is often a process of numerous minor ailments slowly wearing one down. So I sat and held her hand and talked about “the good old days”. I recounted anecdotes from my youth such as how I set fire to the kitchen curtains as a child. I reminisced about the garden which was her pride and joy for many years. And I recalled the family cat, Sam, who she doted upon. I told her I loved her, that she was a great Mum and I appreciated all that she had done for my Sister and I. Our childhood was fun and our family home was filled with laughter. I like to think she heard and understood all this.

View fullsize

Last night, I received a phone call from the care home that my Mother had died, peacefully in her sleep. It was far from a bolt out of the blue. She was approaching 92 and has been struggling with very serious health issues for the last eight months. Death has been a factor in her life for the last decade as she outlived friends and relatives. Last year my Mother asked me to get in touch with the family solicitors so she could “get her affairs in order”. Hence there has been an irresistible inevitability to this week’s events. Yet no matter how much you try to prepare and reconcile yourself to the situation, when it arrives it hits you hard. My Mother, a constant in the last 54 years of my life, is no more. Part of me thinks this is unfair, but then I stop and think about the quality of her life in recent months and what she’s had to endure. To deny her “rest” would be wrong.

For the present, I must set aside my feelings and concentrate on the task in hand. I administered my late Father’s estate in late 2020 and early 2021 so I have a good idea of what administrative tasks lie ahead. I am somewhat relieved that my Mother decided to get a lot of her personal affairs in order last year, hopefully ensuring a smooth passage through the potentially choppy waters of probate. Then there’s the funeral to arrange and the rather sad fact that few people will attend because so many of my Mother’s family and friends have already died. This is the reality of an ageing society. Thinking ahead, I also suspect that this will be the final entry in this series of posts. Looking back over the last 16 instalments, I hope that my experiences are of use to those who are just embarking upon a similar journey. Remember, 3 in 5 people in the UK will become carers at some point during their lives. You’re therefore never alone.