Crewing for a Fragile Yet Tough 97-Year-Old Mother

As my sister and I toured the assisted living facility, we realized it had almost everything that my mother could need. Even so, I was not happy about it.

My mind flashed back to when I worked in a nursing home one summer. Although I worked on outdoor maintenance and cleanup, I was often inside and could observe the residents. It was a job my mother had helped me get, since she worked there as a nurse. It was a traumatic experience for an 18-year-old that is still with me. I remember telling my mother that when I get old, I never want to go to a facility like that! Why I expected my mother to have a say in that decision I have no idea. Although I sensed she understood. Yet here I was facing a decision along with my siblings on what was best for my 97-year-old mom.

My mother had taken a bad fall and broken her elbow, but the hospital and rehab stay had dimmed her memory and mental agility. Before the fall she lived by herself and while we had someone stop by every day, she was very independent. She was not a normal 97-year-old. She was feisty and up on what was going on. Now however she was weaker, meek, and was showing signs of confusion at times. It’s as if the fall and subsequent stay in medical facilities had not only injured her physically but had affected her mental facilities. The question was what was temporary and what was permanent.

My two brothers, my sister, and I immediately organized and made sure she had one of us visit her every day. We became her crew team. In ultra marathons like 100-mile runs, even elite athletes have crews. They are friends and family who wait for the runner at various points along the course providing physical and nutritional care, but their most important role is the emotional support keeping them going and sometimes even pushing them a little. I know on my 100-mile run I needed them. I was running in bad condition longing for my crew. On one race it is the only thing that got me through to the end.

In my mother’s case the crew is running to her. She is locked in one place. She was in a rehab facility with the same view. All the days are the same. There is no Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, just days. They are all the same. As she said to me “If it wasn’t for the news channel on the TV I wouldn’t have any clue what day it was.” It is a mind-numbing existence but a necessary one for her to heal her body. The staff was very attentive to her physical and medical needs but only the crew could give her an anchor to her memory.

I know sitting with my mother I could see her struggle to remember her fall. She was frustrated that she couldn’t remember. She was also fighting the tedium. I could see my feisty mom battling everything. We would take her outside on a patio if the weather was nice but that was just a short reprieve. It was not just my mother feeling the tedium. Even for me it was becoming monotonous and mind-numbing. She would ask me how long she had been here, and a few weeks in, I couldn’t remember.

The decision before us did not have many options that were appealing.  Yet we needed to make a decision. We ended up not going to the assisted living facility but instead had a recommended aide come live with her in her condo. Our belief was that while we could be her anchor in a strange facility, she needed a familiar setting that felt like home to help her. This would help her emotionally and mentally. We wanted our feisty mom back.

When we told my mother she would be leaving the rehab facility she was relieved and seemed to perk up.  She seemed to be coming out of her fog. Once I said to her that she seemed better. She then said to me something that illuminated up all those internal battles I could see her fighting. She said “I was afraid that this was the way it was going to end.” Meaning in that rehab facility. This was the first time I had ever heard my mother worry about dying and how it might happen.

We were all nervous when we brought her back home. She seemed okay with her aide, and we could tell she was happy to be home with her crew. Her crew can’t, however, be a 24/7 crew because we all have work and family obligations of our own. Hence the aide. Through those first two weeks we will still be checking in with her almost daily.

As I checked in with her on the first few days, I could see that she was sleeping and eating better. She also was more relaxed and happier. Yet it is still early. Unlike an ultra-marathon with a set time and distance that the crew must work, my mother’s fall now means the crew has a lifetime duty.

My mother is very lucky to have this crew. The crew is also very lucky to have each other. It is hard to be a caregiver. Often the bulk of the duties fall on one person, and it can be very taxing on a person’s own mental health.

My mother is tough and feisty and was a very independent woman. She was a bread winner when women in her generation were not. I do not think that it is a mere coincidence that all her sons married strong independent women and her daughter is strong and independent. Yet no matter how strong and independent you are we all need others. Her memory has been affected enough so that she cannot take care of herself. Being surrounded by caring people is so important. Having a good crew can make all the difference in the world.