Adios Playset

We had the family over for a BBQ on Sunday to celebrate Jim’s, Eric’s, and Annie’s birthdays. Lots of fun, as usual! That evening, we began to disassemble our old, neglected backyard playset in order to get it ready to be hauled away by some friends. The friends have three young kids that actually want the swing set at their house, unlike Jacob, who has not used it for years. Jacob never was much of a swinger anyway. Jim and our next-door neighbor worked on disconnecting the plastic slide from the main structure and I made myself useful by wiping gross web-like larva crud off all the wooden boards. We plugged away for at least an hour and a half until it got dark. On Monday evening, Jim and Adam removed one of the main 12-foot long crossbars that held the set together. That took them about an hour and a half. We figured that it would take around 7 or 8 additional hours to finish taking the thing apart. On Tuesday, Ken, the swing set recipient, came over, and after about an hour and a half he had dismantled the entire wooden playscape and organized it into tidy stacks ready to be loaded into his vehicle. Hmmm. Well, he is an engineer, so we will just say that is the reason he was able to complete the task so quickly and efficiently. It couldn’t be that Jim, Adam, our neighbor, and I are just pathetically inept and hopelessly un-handyman-ish, could it?

Going . . .

Going . . .

Gone!

WOW - Not so Amazing

Our cable, internet, and phone have all gone kaput lately. All at the same time. More than once. And sometimes for hours at a stretch. I am beginning to think that signing up for a bundle package from one company – WOW in our case – might not have been such a swell strategy. Yesterday, for example, I was on the computer and Jacob was doing something in the family room with “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody” blaring in the background. Suddenly, I heard a loud, static-y sound and Jake, by now used to WOW conking out, just yelled matter-of-factly, “Cable’s out again.” Great – and right when I was poised to post some documents onto a website to which I contribute. My mom was trying to call me, and after repeatedly not getting through, she finally tried my cell phone, which, fortunately, was charged and working. Our WOW also went down during an Olympic gold medal ceremony that I was watching last week. Very annoying, especially because I love medal ceremonies and they do not broadcast enough of them as far as I am concerned. Oddly, Richie, who only lives a mile away from us and has the same WOW package, said he has not experienced any service interruptions. He claims that the problem, therefore, must lie with the outdoor wiring in our neighborhood. Anyway, we are notifying WOW, and Jim has threatened to deduct the outage times from our monthly payment. Which would really just make the company chuckle because so far it would amount to less than a dollar or two. But it is the principle of the thing here. I never realized how much I relied on technology until it was not available!

Father-Son Weekend Camp

Jacob and Jim arrived home from their camping trip Sunday evening after spending an extra two hours sitting in a traffic jam on the freeway. They had a wonderful weekend along with Jacob’s good friend and his dad, who coincidentally is one of my oldest buddies. The camp they attended is owned and operated by a Catholic organization, although you do not have to be particularly religious to go there. The father-son pairs participated in many organized activities together, including horseback riding, archery, swimming, and a multitude of outdoor games. And for those of you who think that Catholics do not have a sense of humor – the bathroom building at the campground was officially labeled “St. John.” After leaving the camp on Sunday, the foursome visited Fort Michilimackinac in Mackinaw City before heading home. Here are a few pictures snapped by Jim.

Jacob and his buddy at the campfire building contest. Young pyromaniacs at work!

This horse loved Jacob.

"St. John" in the distance.

A "Redcoat" at the fort.

A nice view of the Mackinac Bridge, looking north.

Busted Again

Jim, Jacob, and I dropped in to visit Bev yesterday. We could not find her in her apartment, in the dining room, or in the activity area. On a whim, we decided to check the outdoor porch, and, alas, there she sat puffing away on a cigarette. Bev admitted that Debbie had broken down, bought her a pack of smokes, and given her a lighter as well. She claimed that she had been hiding out and smoking in her bathroom until one of the patient care workers caught her. Not only has her doctor advised her not to smoke, but – hello – she is using oxygen. Plus, we can be fined $250 if she does light up inside her room. How unbelievably lame is Debbie? I cannot tell you how often Bev has phoned us recently not even being able to recall where she was or how she got there. She maintains that she will only smoke outdoors, but it is just a matter of time before she forgets that, too. The staff is aware that she has cigarettes and a lighter in her apartment, and they realize that Jim and I do not trust her with anything that can be lit, yet they permit her to keep her stash. I spoke with Bev’s doctor on Wednesday, and he confirmed that her oxygen level is so low that a combination of smoking and not using her oxygen regularly will ultimately shut down her organs. So, besides worrying about that, I will also have to fret that all of the sweet senior citizens that we have come to know will be rendered homeless when Bev blows up the extended care facility. Can anyone control this woman?

P.S. Jim and Jacob left for a weekend father/son camping trip on Friday afternoon, so I hope to have news and pictures of their adventures soon.

Jacob Kicks Butt at Senior Bingo

We moved Bev into the extended care facility on Saturday. Her furniture is filthy and reeks of stale smoke, but she insists on having her own things there. We reluctantly brought her favorite chair, even though it is truly repulsive and it does have a 5”x 5” burn hole in it where her cigarette started a small fire when she fell asleep one day. After we checked Bev into her apartment, she easily wheeled her new walker to the dining room for lunch. She also willingly agreed to attend bingo later that afternoon, and Jacob accompanied her to the activity room. While there, the activity director invited Jacob to join the seniors. Jim and I eventually went to track them down, and found Jacob sitting at Bev’s table with his own bingo cards and a bucket of bingo chips. He had a rollicking time playing, the old folks loved his enthusiasm, and he won $2.00 – at 25 cents a victory. They informed me that Jacob is welcome at senior bingo any time, even though he won about half of the games. We ended up spending a large part of our Saturday with Bev - over 6 hours! After we left, she called us ten times wondering why we hadn’t picked her up yet from “the motel.” Apparently, she also phoned Debbie, accusing her of not telling her anything and demanding some cigarettes. Bev tends to get more confused and extra agitated in the evening, which is a phenomenon with Alzheimer’s patients commonly known as “Sundowning.”

When we returned to visit Bev on Sunday, she was crabby. We stayed for over 2 hours, and when we got up to go she sarcastically thanked us for “leaving her in hell.” Jim became angry and began lecturing her about how she never used to eat or take her meds at home, and how she has never had any interests outside of gambling anyway. She just whined about having nothing to do, and we immediately countered her grumbling by reading aloud the extensive list of activities available for her. She moaned about not wanting to do any of that stuff, which did not surprise us in the least, since she has been that way her entire life. So, does anyone have a copy of Tolerating the Irritable Senior for Dummies?

Disaster Averted

On Tuesday, we finally chose an extended care “residence” (their word, not ours) for Bev. We picked out one of the available apartments there, and then began the preliminary steps for discharge from the rehab place. Which, unbeknown to us, has ended up being quite an extensive procedure. Even lengthier, however, is the process to get into the new place. Besides filling out mounds of paperwork and securing numerous doctor signatures, we had to arrange for Bev to undergo an “interview” to make sure that she would be “a good fit for the extended care community.” Yikes! An interview!? I really sweated that one out all day long today. I just imagined the stories that Bev might tell the folks from the new senior place. I worried that she would possibly use some colorful language or even tell them all where to go. And I thought for sure that she would inform them that she had no intention of living at their @*%#& facility. Apparently, all went well because she was accepted this afternoon and can move in on Saturday. WHEW! We have been attempting to clean some of the furniture (*gag*) at her house and plan to move it into the new apartment tomorrow. Along with all of the other paraphernalia that emphysema-riddled, Alzheimer’s patients need. I will try to remember to snap some photos at Bev's new place this weekend. I only hope that she doesn’t despise it too much.

Bev Almost Gets the Boot

Bev’s Alzheimer’s disease has been diagnosed as late-stage. The neuropsychologist that I spoke with explained that Bev’s quick decline was due to a number of factors, including lack of oxygen, improper nutrition, extreme fragility, improper medications, and her fall. Ever since that diagnosis was made two weeks ago, though, Bev has made some pretty impressive progress. She is no longer delusional, although she is still very forgetful and quite confused. She has been prescribed a myriad of medications that I think are partially responsible for her improvement, but we still plan to request a re-evaluation of her Alzheimer’s since it does seems to be more middle-stage now.

To add to our daily fun, the rehab place called late Saturday afternoon to inform us that Bev was set to be released on Sunday. HUH?! I had recently attended a meeting with all of her caregivers, and it had been determined that she still required weeks of physical therapy in order to do simple things – like say, walk, for example. Jim and I rushed up to the nursing facility and had a discussion with the social worker who had just phoned. She said that Bev’s Medicare only covered 20 days of skilled care, so we would have to either a) pick her up the next morning, or b) pay $206 per day out of pocket if she stayed. To make a long story short, I met with someone there today and resolved the Medicare issue. Most of the blame for the mix-up lies with Jim’s sister, Debbie, as the rehab place mailed some materials to her house instead of ours, and she just threw everything away without opening it. (Not the first time this has happened; she once pitched a $2,000 insurance check unopened into the trash because she "didn't recognize the return address!") Jim, Debbie, and Jay had hoped that Bev would eventually be able to return home, but realize now that she really does need 24-hour care. This became apparent to them when it was established that the three of them would be the main parties responsible for providing this daily supervision. The fact that it would include dressing her, giving her meds three times a day, making her meals, assisting her in the bathroom (eeew!), and taking turns sleeping over at her house proved to be a bit more than any of them bargained for. We have looked at so many assisted living residences lately that our heads are spinning. I guess we will be choosing one any day now. And if anyone ever needs assistance in securing living arrangements for an elderly friend or relative, just ask us. We have become somewhat-reluctant, yet well-informed experts in the field of senior care.