08-20-2011, 02:59 PM
I run a business that provides in-home assistance to seniors. It's rewarding and sometimes heartbreaking.
My average client is 88 years old. Some have family locally, some don't have any family, and others have family out of state/country. Many of them have dementia and some have Alzheimer's.
I have a client named Martha who is 83 and lives alone. Martha is from Central America originally, but has been in the US since she was 14 years old and her deceased husband "looked just like John Wayne". He was 6'2" and Martha is 4'10". She is so cute; she tells me about her husband and shows me his picture every time I visit her. She has 2 daughters in their 50s and a son in his late 40s. They all live within 30 miles of her, but they rarely visit (they rotate weekends). Three weeks ago, her caregiver called me to report that Martha was wandering around the block crying when she arrived at the house. Thank god her caregiver showed up early for her shift. Martha lives near a very busy street. Her widowed sister (who was her lifetime confidante) used to live 3 doors down from Martha until she passed 2 years ago. Martha forgot her sister had passed and had gone, in robe and slippers, and knocked on the door over and over that morning. The new owners were at work so no one answered. Martha was so upset and thought her sister was mad and ignoring her. She told her caregiver she was so lonely that her eyes felt like faucets. Her caregiver reminded her gently that her sister was gone. Martha had forgotten all about it by the time she got dressed for lunch.
I called Martha's children to inform them about her loneliness and the safety risks of her wandering alone. I made easy recommendations to alleviate some of the loneliness and minimize Martha's ability to walk right out the front gate alone. Her children aren't bad people, but they are not as warm as their mother and seem so indifferent. They have not made any changes that were recommended. While I have a lot of clients, for some reason I can't stop wondering about what's going on in Martha's head and heart. I find myself hoping several times a day that Martha just holds on and feels fine until the next time her caregiver arrives for a visit.
Sorry for such a long post; it was surprisingly therapeutic to get it out.
My average client is 88 years old. Some have family locally, some don't have any family, and others have family out of state/country. Many of them have dementia and some have Alzheimer's.
I have a client named Martha who is 83 and lives alone. Martha is from Central America originally, but has been in the US since she was 14 years old and her deceased husband "looked just like John Wayne". He was 6'2" and Martha is 4'10". She is so cute; she tells me about her husband and shows me his picture every time I visit her. She has 2 daughters in their 50s and a son in his late 40s. They all live within 30 miles of her, but they rarely visit (they rotate weekends). Three weeks ago, her caregiver called me to report that Martha was wandering around the block crying when she arrived at the house. Thank god her caregiver showed up early for her shift. Martha lives near a very busy street. Her widowed sister (who was her lifetime confidante) used to live 3 doors down from Martha until she passed 2 years ago. Martha forgot her sister had passed and had gone, in robe and slippers, and knocked on the door over and over that morning. The new owners were at work so no one answered. Martha was so upset and thought her sister was mad and ignoring her. She told her caregiver she was so lonely that her eyes felt like faucets. Her caregiver reminded her gently that her sister was gone. Martha had forgotten all about it by the time she got dressed for lunch.
I called Martha's children to inform them about her loneliness and the safety risks of her wandering alone. I made easy recommendations to alleviate some of the loneliness and minimize Martha's ability to walk right out the front gate alone. Her children aren't bad people, but they are not as warm as their mother and seem so indifferent. They have not made any changes that were recommended. While I have a lot of clients, for some reason I can't stop wondering about what's going on in Martha's head and heart. I find myself hoping several times a day that Martha just holds on and feels fine until the next time her caregiver arrives for a visit.
Sorry for such a long post; it was surprisingly therapeutic to get it out.