Saddest words of tongue or pen...

 
Wishing, on this chilly grey morning, that this posting could be bright & sunny, uplifiting & optimistic.  Be forewarned - it isn't.

Had a strange, somewhat embarrassing situation yesterday.  Heard about the health woes of a dear friend from a 3rd party who had NO idea I was in the dark about the sweet woman's condition.  

"Oh," she said, "I just know what's what from her daughter's many Facebook updates."

Small wonder I was clueless - the daughter apparently unfriended me.  Probably around the time I spoke truth to her power one too many times.  Our her mother have happened.  From what I heard, she's had several medical scares, with various trips to the emergency room.  The subject came up because I'd discovered, apparently by accident, that she'd been hospitalized.  Had mentioned it to the mutual friend, thinking she didn't know.  Ha! 

Our older friend might have ended up right where she is even if John & I had been part of her care team, but it's equally true that being part of her life might have forestalled her rapid decline.

Rapid, indeed.  This time last year, she was living a fully independent life, in the home she & her spouse had taken from a fixer-upper to a showcase of friendly welcomes.  Although there were friends across, up & down the street, the large wooded property with a beautiful stretch of lawn was fairly rural.  She had daily exercise, walking around the house, up & down the flight of steps from the social area to her bedroom & writing studio, as well as braving the double flight of steps up from her charming brick terrace to her car.  

She took delight in taking her beloved pooch out for rides - how that dog loves being in the passenger side, his adored human at the wheel! - and watching him cavort around the back lawn.  She did her own shopping, made her own meals.  

She was a vibrant part of a wonderful circle of friends, a vital member of her church &  faithfully attended its women's group's monthly discussion suppers, never missed her weekly lunch with a group of former colleagues.

This time last year, the expectation was that John & I would sort of stand in for all she was leaving, once she moved up here to live with her daughter.  The move was not voluntary on anyone's part - she was increasingly fragile, the steps were a constant worry to the rest of us if not to her, she was (although she'd never admit it) having trouble driving.  It was time to move from the home & town she'd loved for 50+ years.

Her daughter stepped up to the plate when it was clear that moving into a full-service senior residence meant losing her dog, which would have broken her heart.  That dog is her closest companion, her confidante, in many ways her current reason for being. 

Today, that amazing pooch is very much my friend's lifeline to a former self she doesn't feel exists any more.

It's been 8+ months since she moved up from her home.  She's now many miles from all she's known & loved for half a century.  Her daughter & family took great precautions to ensure that every aspect of her room would help compensate for her increasingly fragile health.  No expense was spared on refitting the home for an elderly person.  But it's not the same, not even close.

And what was supposed to help bridge the two worlds - hanging out with John & yours truly - quickly unraveled.  Unfortunately for that partnership, her daughter includes certain duties as part of the criteria for being on her mother's care partner team.  Be responsible for administering meds, do light housework & walk the dog, including the family's LARGE Bernese Mountain dog. That left me out of the care partner team.  

First, I don't administer meds.  It's not being persnickety - neither John nor I have any experience in having to administer them, since both our mothers handled their own meds right up to their passings at 87 & 91.  It's a risk I am not willing to take on, not for myself, not for John.  

But it felt like the biggest obstacle was balking at the light housework & dog walking.  First off, the skills I bring to the table have nothing to do with emptying & reloading the dishwasher, sweeping the floor & walking the dogs.  There were other able-bodied family members around who could hand those tasks.  They didn't want to.  

Unfortunately, what I offered in the way of life expansionist skills were not enough.  So, we were out.  Oh, there was the rare friend-to-friend rare meal out, but that was it.  We offered to do living room Fred & Ginger film festivals, continue introducing her to writer friends & pleasant acquaintances, take trips up the River Road & down to Longwood Gardens, but those things never materialized.  No blogging sessions, no legacy coaching.  All of which we offered to do unpaid, as friends.  Nothing came of it.  Instead, everything her daughter & I had  planned eight months ago  - gone.

The thing that took me most by surprise was the daughter's adamant - at least to me - belief that her mother wasn't experiencing any trauma.  To hear her tell it, everything went smoothly, her mother had managed the transition without a hitch, was snug & happy in her new town.  No problems here!

Seriously.  She seemed to flinch at even a suggestion that her mother might be feeling isolated, in strange surroundings, without the circle of friends who enriched every day, without familiar resources around her.  Within less than a year, she had lost her driver's license, her home, her town, her friends.  She went from a 9-room house with spacious grounds to a single room with a fully-equipped for handicap access bathroom, her primary social space a small strip between the kitchen & windows facing the driveway & house next door.  Her life shrank from unbounded to severely restricted.  Sure - "No problems here!"  

How could there not be massive emotionally trauma, as well as mental & physical reverberations?  What she does on a daily basis in April 2016 can't begin to compare with all that filled her life back in 2016.  

Am I surprised to discover my friend's health took a nosedive since the late summer?  Hardly.  Her life had been turned upside down  & inside out & the people who could have helped set it right were certain that all was well, no need for help here, thank  you.  

Would it have made a difference if things had gone according to the original plan, with John & yours truly providing life expanding interaction every day, getting her out walking to this place or that, providing opportunities for her to meet people who shared similar interests, if there had been those 'round the fire place poetry readings or family room film festivals?  Maybe yes, maybe no. My bet is on yes.

It's a matter of physiology as much as psychology.  If we go from fairly active to basically inactive, the muscular system of a typical middle age adult will decline in a couple months, faster with the aged & elderly.  While the daughter took great care to ensure her mother got weekly physical therapy appointments, she but didn't seem to realize the essential impact getting out & about as part of a normal day has on our aerobic conditioning.   

Yes, the daughter encouraged her mother to take daily walks around her new neighborhood, which would have provided some of the whole body exercise we all need.  What she didn't realize was that taking those walks, around an unfamiliar territory with unfamiliar faces, drove home how far she was from where she had been.  On many levels.  

Am quite heartbroken that our dear friend has been having health issues requiring hospital care.  We are sad at being clueless about her stay(s?), because we would have visited.  I am grief-struck that nothing I said or suggested made any difference.  

The only up side, as I've posted before, is that this situation has given me insights into complications of elder care that wouldn't have come up if an ideal path had been trod.  I've learned quite a bit about the importance of whole body exercise - crucial at any age, essential as we get up there in years.  I've seen the impact of someone who is absolutely positively sure she already knows everything there is to know about a complex & challenging life scenario.  

There's no knowing for sure if things had gone to original plan, our friend might be relatively hale & heart, beginning to genuinely feel more at home in her new surroundings.  Maybe yes, maybe no.  As mentioned earlier, am inclined to think yes.  My guess is her daughter would say no.   

Oh, the pang of what might have been.  The saddest words of tongue or pen...

The original!