→ Health
From the issue: July 2009 Quarterly
Delicate Conversations
by Peg Witham
I have worked in the senior industry for 15 years. Along the way, I have seen the results of a family’s failure to talk about the possibility of a loved one’s loss of independence. I sat comfortably in judgment of others, as I jumped in to “tell my mother” what she should do to plan for her future. 
Let me be clear to those who have not yet had the opportunity to speak to their parents about “future.” These conversations are neither easy nor quick. In fact, they can be frustrating, disappointing, confusing, uplifting and loving all at the same time. They can be a test of relationships; parent-child, brother-sister.
My first mistake was to assume that I knew what was best for my mother. It never occurred to me to ask her to weigh in with her ideas and feelings. On the monetary front, I did receive great coaching from our family financial planner. In his infinite wisdom, he clued me in to the fact that people who lived through the depression had some interesting views of the world. He explained that it’s entirely possible that these views could manifest into actions like squirreling away cash in secret places, stocking the pantry with paper products, and packing the refrigerator with food. I thought these were unique characteristics of my mother – not an entire generation. I missed the main point he was trying to get across to me, however. It was that my mother, like many of her peers, had lost so much during the great depression, including the all-important sense of personal control.
One conversation at a time, by trial and error, with the best of intensions, and a new appreciation of her fear of being without money, our financial discussions lasted for three years.
Mom had lived alone, since dad passed away nearly twenty years prior. My sister and I were increasingly concerned about her declining health, and her driving. At one point she drove the car into the side of the condo, and didn’t remember a thing. Red flag! The financial conversations were child’s play compared to the “you can’t drive” discussions. Driving, we learned the hard way, is the last vestige of independence. The car was a total loss and only upon seeing it in the auto body yard, did she agree that driving was no longer an option.
This new situation opened up a whole new set of conversations about living independently. Like many of her generation, and other generations past, staying home was the goal. My sister and I knew from experience that there was too much “family,” and too much “emotion” for us to have a rational conversation about her living options.
The BEST decision we made was to hire a Geriatric Care Manager. These are health and human service specialists (angels) who help families care for older relatives, while encouraging as much independence as possible. The National Association of Professional Geriatric Care Mangers has a great web site at www.caremanager.org. Click on “find a care manager,” and enter your zip code.
We interviewed and hired a Geriatric Care Manager to come to mom’s house for an assessment. Let me tell you, when you have an independent, third party professional asking questions in a calm, supportive manner, dialogue suddenly breaks out. We learned that GCMs offer elder care assessments, coaching for caregivers, counseling and support for families, elder care plans, and monitoring, all with the goal of keeping the client in the place he or she most wants to be – home.
Mom spent the greater part of a morning with the GCM. She observed mom cooking in the kitchen and moving around her apartment. They talked about activities of daily living like dressing and bathing, as well as self-care. More importantly of course, they talked about transportation!
The professional recommendation was that mom was capable of living at home alone, with the support of a paid companion 2 days a week. The companion was the perfect solution; mom did not need medical care. However, she did need help with meals, chores and getting around. We hired a delightful female companion who helped mom at home, as well as out of the house. They journeyed to the bank, post office, beauty salon, and doctor’s office, and eventually a friendship blossomed. Mom remained in her home until her health declined. She passed away peacefully in a nursing home.
If I knew then what I know now, I would have reached out sooner to a Geriatric Care Manager for help with these important and delicate conversations about family transitions. I’m convinced our conversations would have been easier, our problems solved sooner, and we would have had more time to enjoy each other.
For more information please contact Peg Witham Consulting at 425-821-7029, or email her at pegwitham@comcast.net
« Go back | View more articles in 'Health'
|
