The pains of getting older.

SecularSanity

Thanks!

And to boot, during this time, my husband was admitted with meningitis, my mother was recovering from surgery, and I had a two year old to contend with.

C'est la vie
Bravo, Rhody!

BTW, I sure hope Borek isn’t on the welcoming committee.

physics girl phd

It's things like this that make you realize that so many wonderful stories go untold. My dad (who had passed away prior) had told us that Grandpa had "taught math and other subjects" when he was stationed at WPAFB during WWII. But grandpa's obit indicated he was in an intelligence unit... I personally suspect cryptography/cryptanalysis based on some of his other connections (such as NCR), but of course, who knows. Towards the end, Grandpa would have been senile enough to probably tell us had we known what to ask. He could go on and on about early baseball (God bless some of my former boyfriends for listening to all that...).

Sorry about your loss...

turbo

Thanks. Helen was a wonderful woman, and sharp as a tack all of her life. Typical "dry" sense of humor that is the norm in Maine. She never told me about her war-time service, and it also came as a surprise to my wife. The obit featured a photo of her in her Army uniform. She was a really good-looking woman.

She left instructions that in lieu of flowers, she would like her friends and family to make contributions to a hospice-care organization.

turbo

It seems that some "nursing homes" in Maine are warehouses for the elderly, and that really ticks me off. My mother-in-law was on a waiting-list for a highly-regarded nursing home a few miles from here, close enough so that all of her children could have visited regularly, and the "crazy sisters" bullied the sane sisters into allowing them to keep her at home. The chief crazy sister moved her mother into her house, and when she found out that she couldn't provide 24-hour care for a 95-year-old with senile dementia, she parked her in a nursing home 1/2 hour away.

My wife and her sole sane sister do their best to visit her to find out how she is being treated, and it doesn't look good. If they show up in late afternoon and their mother is sedated and confined to a wheelchair, with her bed still unmade, things look sad. I don't want to go that way.

There should be laws... Effective, enforced laws.

Evo

Such as?

There are plenty of laws, so I don't get what you are refering to. If they get her out of bed in the afternoon, they wouldn't make the bed up again, as far as I know, hospitals and nursing homes make beds once a day. There is no reason to do it more often, unless the bed is soiled.

It's good that they get her up and into a wheel chair, I'd be more concerned if she was left in bed all day. Of course my grandmother was a quadraplegic, so she could not get out of bed at all. What had to be done was shifting her regularly.

rootX

There's nothing compared to the care that family members can provide. Fortunately, both my grandparents were well cared until their death. They didn't have to go to a "nursing home". But still there's nothing compared to taking your own care.

I hope she move to a better nursing home

Andre

Not so sure, I have been observing how the staff of a nursing home took care of the last years of one of my folks. It was fantastic, really. Those girls did a real great job with incredible patience and always smiling. Hats off.

Borek

Not really. For someone working normal 8-hours job that's unrealistic, especially when your elders require 24 hours watch.

rootX

Yes that's true in this 8-hours world. But I never heard of these nursing homes before I moved to cities. It was more like a taboo to throw your parents into nursing house.

In my case, my cousin and his wife were living with my grandparents along with one-two home-helpers. They took care of their farms too while every other child of theirs moved into cities.

Andre

Interestingly, my current appartment was designed for care taking of seniors. Everything required for living is on the groundfloor for the seniors, and then upstairs there is another living facility for caretakers. The upstairs kitchen sink has been removed a long time ago. Not practical.

But I can handle some overnights for guests.

rootX

One of my relatives was on living on those oxygen things. They have bedrooms upstairs so it was quite a bit of work to bring her down everytime she had to visit doctor. She spent pretty much all of her last days in her bedroom.

But in case of my grandparents, just a new house was built so that they don't have to spend pretty much rest of their lives walking to washrooms or kitchen. Old house was more than a century old, quite senior-unfriendly!

turbo

My wife and I bought a single-story log house. Everything is on one floor, so no stairs. Actually, there are stairs down to the cellar, but with my arthritic knees and poor balance, I go down there only rarely.

The wife of the man that built this place was quite short, so counter-tops were low, sinks were low and shallow, etc. We had the kitchen re-done to standard heights. The kitchen and living room are coupled in an open floor-plan. The hallway has large storage areas on either side with louvered sliding doors, shelving, and hanger-rods and the bedroom and bathroom are at the end, directly across from one another.

It would be tough to find a decent house with all these features, unless one wants to live in a pre-fab box and can specify the layout in advance. I think we're set up as well as can be for our old age. The place heats easily with our little wood stove since the house is small, and if handling firewood gets tough years from now, there's always the hot-air oil furnace.

nazarbaz

I'm 37 but I was sick enough to think deeply about death these last few years. Sadly, I have nothing wise to say about it. I went through a period when going to the supermarket one street away from home was a real effort. I recovered and I manage to have an intense physical activity right now, but I'm lot darker.
I saw the reaper lurking at the corner and it basically transformed my way of looking at life... Not in a good and positive way, I'm afraid... It's not the fear of death, but the anxiety of wasting what's left...
Life is more dreadful than death.

turbo

Got a very sad phone call today. The wife of one of my oldest friends called me to tell me that my friend has cancer of the liver and the esophagus. His liver is so far gone that the doctors can't do a resection to buy him some time, and apparently the esophageal cancer is inoperable, as well. They would come from Pittsburgh to Maine once every summer to visit with my wife and me, and I will miss him terribly. He has a wicked sense of humor.

His wife says that he has little energy to spare, but I hope that he can call in the next day or so, so we can talk a bit one last time. So sad...

turbo

My friend and I are both atheists. I won't pray for him, and he wouldn't have prayed for me if the tables were turned. All I can do is offer his wife and him my best wishes. My wife called his wife tonight, and told her that they are both in our thoughts. That's the best we can do.

turbo

When my dying friend's mother passed away, there was no funeral - just a memorial service. It was held in the Congregational church in her home town because it was the largest meeting-house available. All the pews were full, all the seats in the overflow room were full, and the overflow room was crammed with people standing to pay their respects. The fire-marshal could have had a field-day. She was brought up as a Quaker and attended Unitarian services with her mother (despite having to drive 100 miles for the round-trip every weekend) and was universally loved in town. Nice woman.

My friend has that kind of temperament. I miss her and I will miss him. Nothing to prove, and no attitude. His mother never dinged us for drinking alcohol or coffee, but she and her mother used to drink hot water with cider vinegar and perhaps a touch of honey. Very nice people.

turbo

Very short call yesterday evening, and I am still so sad. I didn't get to talk to my friend, and his wife is almost incoherent and breaking down constantly.

My friend and I did everything together, and whenever there was any kind of a challenge, we would tackle it together. I have a couple of huge rocks that we collected together and only managed to gather through brute strength and some inventiveness. Every time I see them, I think of him.