Sunday Best at Day Care
The note from the day care staff said: "Please wear your Sunday best ..." Mr. and Ms. Madison Center. Our Sunday best is pretty much like our Wednesday best. Over the last three years, Mother lost between 80 and 100 pounds, so her wardrobe of wearable clothes is limited.
Last summer she had only two pairs of jeans, which she inherited from my closet. We were a little luckier with tops since I was able to find a collection of smaller size tops in her closet as I was sorting the house preparing for the movers. It seems so long ago now, but it was only 14 months ago.
In 2001, I started planning for Mother and Dad to come live with me. This became the solution since Mother refused to consider an assisted living setting. I refinanced my house, which was small, roughly a 1,000 square feet; started working with an architect on an addition that turned out to be 1,566 square feet; got it built; started making the appointments with doctors; and drove to Michigan to bring the folks to Virginia.
We drove straight through just because we thought it would be easier than staying over or flying given Mother's health issues.
Week One, doctors appointments.
Week Two, I went back to Michigan to load the moving van.
Week Three, my dad's health began what would turn out to be its final decline.
Dad died August 11, 2004. I became Mother's sole caregiver. I am self-employed, too young for Social Security, and hadn't worked much for four months. We had visited one day care in June, about two months after Mother and Dad arrived in Virginia, while Dad was still alive. That program matched technically with Mother's stage of the disease. It is one of the rare, as I understand it, day care programs for mid and advanced-stage demention. It has a wonderful reputation and its fees are certainly reasonable for the staffing ratios etc. Its daily rate was $70 plus. My father, the Scotsman, thought that was too much.
Technically, Mother is mid-stage on the dementia continuum. Yet she is highly socialized, of gentle demeanor, and can still eat and toilet herself without one-on-one staff assistance. So, she was eligible for an early stage dementia care program. What a blessing that turned out to be!
Our day care program is run by Arlington County, VA. It has been around nearly 30 years. It has recruited a wonderfully committed staff, in part because of the quality of the program, I suspect. And, miracle of miracles, Mother was also eligible for a reduced daily rate which is based on her income. Our income, of course, was reduced with Dad's death.
At the same time, I really needed to get back to work. Keeping Mother entertained and engaged in constructive activity was not getting me back to work. It took about a month to schedule in-take interviews, medical clearances including the TB test, and a second home interview. Eventually we were able to arrange for day care and activities that are geared toward helping seniors retain what skills and functioning that they still have. And, the fee ... $16 a day, plus cab fare if we used that.
We started with three days a week and quickly moved up to four days. There is exercise, sometimes museum visits, bowling, current events class, life stories class, and, of course, BINGO. Nearly a year later, we have a small collection of stuffed animals...the result of Mother's bingo winnings. And, I am able to count on working about six hours a day. Wonderful, wonderful.
Anyway ... Mother donned her Wednesday best and went to "school," which is what we call it. I always take Mother, because I like to have a feel for what's going on there. As I watched the cabs arrive, it was fun to see women in pretty dresses and jackets, brightly colored silky pants, and men in jackets and ties.
One of the men who is able to talk easily arrived in shirt that was a tad snug and a bright tie. I couldn't resist telling him he looked really nice. He is still able to maintain his curmudgeon persona. "And you're full of hot air," he retorted.
So, it is at day care...
The note from the day care staff said: "Please wear your Sunday best ..." Mr. and Ms. Madison Center. Our Sunday best is pretty much like our Wednesday best. Over the last three years, Mother lost between 80 and 100 pounds, so her wardrobe of wearable clothes is limited.
Last summer she had only two pairs of jeans, which she inherited from my closet. We were a little luckier with tops since I was able to find a collection of smaller size tops in her closet as I was sorting the house preparing for the movers. It seems so long ago now, but it was only 14 months ago.
In 2001, I started planning for Mother and Dad to come live with me. This became the solution since Mother refused to consider an assisted living setting. I refinanced my house, which was small, roughly a 1,000 square feet; started working with an architect on an addition that turned out to be 1,566 square feet; got it built; started making the appointments with doctors; and drove to Michigan to bring the folks to Virginia.
We drove straight through just because we thought it would be easier than staying over or flying given Mother's health issues.
Week One, doctors appointments.
Week Two, I went back to Michigan to load the moving van.
Week Three, my dad's health began what would turn out to be its final decline.
Dad died August 11, 2004. I became Mother's sole caregiver. I am self-employed, too young for Social Security, and hadn't worked much for four months. We had visited one day care in June, about two months after Mother and Dad arrived in Virginia, while Dad was still alive. That program matched technically with Mother's stage of the disease. It is one of the rare, as I understand it, day care programs for mid and advanced-stage demention. It has a wonderful reputation and its fees are certainly reasonable for the staffing ratios etc. Its daily rate was $70 plus. My father, the Scotsman, thought that was too much.
Technically, Mother is mid-stage on the dementia continuum. Yet she is highly socialized, of gentle demeanor, and can still eat and toilet herself without one-on-one staff assistance. So, she was eligible for an early stage dementia care program. What a blessing that turned out to be!
Our day care program is run by Arlington County, VA. It has been around nearly 30 years. It has recruited a wonderfully committed staff, in part because of the quality of the program, I suspect. And, miracle of miracles, Mother was also eligible for a reduced daily rate which is based on her income. Our income, of course, was reduced with Dad's death.
At the same time, I really needed to get back to work. Keeping Mother entertained and engaged in constructive activity was not getting me back to work. It took about a month to schedule in-take interviews, medical clearances including the TB test, and a second home interview. Eventually we were able to arrange for day care and activities that are geared toward helping seniors retain what skills and functioning that they still have. And, the fee ... $16 a day, plus cab fare if we used that.
We started with three days a week and quickly moved up to four days. There is exercise, sometimes museum visits, bowling, current events class, life stories class, and, of course, BINGO. Nearly a year later, we have a small collection of stuffed animals...the result of Mother's bingo winnings. And, I am able to count on working about six hours a day. Wonderful, wonderful.
Anyway ... Mother donned her Wednesday best and went to "school," which is what we call it. I always take Mother, because I like to have a feel for what's going on there. As I watched the cabs arrive, it was fun to see women in pretty dresses and jackets, brightly colored silky pants, and men in jackets and ties.
One of the men who is able to talk easily arrived in shirt that was a tad snug and a bright tie. I couldn't resist telling him he looked really nice. He is still able to maintain his curmudgeon persona. "And you're full of hot air," he retorted.
So, it is at day care...
posted by BK Kincaid at 9:12 AM
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