Who Cares What Nansi Thinks?

Today Mom came over to bake Christmas cookies. Half the fun of the day was going through the cookbook that Temple Baptist Church put together in 1976. That's the church I grew up in. We read all the old recipes and reminisced about the people who submitted them. We remembered times good and bad.

Mom had the big eyes as far as baking went. "We should make these and these and these and these...." She had grandiose plans on all the items she was going to make without needing my help. In reality, all she could manage today was crushing some graham crackers and greasing a baking dish. But she enjoyed being in the hubbub and interacting with my kids and their friends. We made chocolate fudge, peanut butter fudge, seven layer cookies, raspberry cookie bars, sugar cookies, kiss cookies and rice krispie treats. I'm exhausted and jazzy from the sugar high!

Mike's favorite is peanut butter fudge. One of his employees used to give him a pound every Christmas. Like so many of us, she was just too overwhelmed to do it this year. Mike's such a good egg, I didn't want him to do without his favorite Christmas treat, so I figured I'd brave it and make it myself. Can I tell you how intimidated I was????

Mom and I poured through the cookbooks looking for the perfect peanut butter fudge. Mike doesn't like the sugary, gritty kind. He likes the fluffy kind--made with marshmallow creme. None of my books had the latter recipe.

So we plopped the laptop up on the counter and googled it! I had my daughter read me the ingredients and the instructions. Suddenly I was whisked back in time....

My parents worked at Disney World when I was a kid. General Electric had this neat "ride" that showed the progress of technology and electricity. I think it was called "Carousel of Progress" or something like that. In this attraction the people moved. The entire audience advanced around the track to each phase of our country's history with electronics. They all took place at Christmastime. There was the gay 90's (18), the flappers of the 20's, the June Cleaver 50's, etc.

The very last segment of the G.E. attraction was a speculation of how the future of electricity would be. The family is well coiffed and snappy. The mother is standing at the stove cooking and she remarks over her shoulder, "Amanda, check my computer for the best fudge recipe!"

I remember as a kid thinking how stupid it would be to have a computer in the KITCHEN! Having my own daughter reading me cooking instructions from a computer in my kitchen was a surreal moment indeed. The future is now, it seems.

I have a sister who lives in Michigan. Her health is poor and she lives with constant pain. She also has a husband who depends upon her to care for him, his health is very bad. But you know what? She doesn't forget Mom.

She writes long letters often. She sends little gifts now and then, and big ones on the holidays. I have a huge box for Mom that she sent. I'm saving it for Christmas. Mom knows it's here and is just tickled pink at the thought of it!

If you are NOT the primary care giver for an elderly parent, please do what my sisters and brother do. Stay in touch with your elderly parent. Let them know that they're in your thoughts. Those actions help more than just your parent.

It is SO nice to see Mom smiling from ear to ear after she's heard from one of my siblings. It truly brightens her day. And that makes MY day easier too!

Make the effort, the gift goes farther than you know.

I don't like how far flung we are. I miss my sisters and my brother. We are all so entrenched in our lives that travel is just too difficult. Our immediate families require all of our time and attention and the thought of being away for even a day or two seems like an impossible dream.

I used to say, "Come, before it's too late." I didn't mean to lay on a guilt trip. The sister that is so faithful to stay in touch and send care packages hasn't seen Mom in well over a decade. I envy her that. Her mental picture of my mom is so different than mine. The last time she saw her, Mom was still driving, sewing, living alone. She'd be unpleasantly shocked to see Mom now. And what would be the point? Mom genuinely feels her love. Mom doesn't "miss" her, because her frequent contact keeps her so close. She gives Mom the best of herself. I cannot stress enough how important a roll she plays in Mom's well-being.

To all my beloved siblings, thank you so much for being there in the best way you can. I hope this holiday season finds you warm, peaceful and pain-free. I love you.

Over the past few weeks I've dealt with several families who are trying to "save the house" from being taken by the state.

There are a few things you should know as your parents age. Before I go into that, I'd like to give you perhaps a new way of thinking. The common phrase I hear is, "They've worked so hard all their lives just to have it all taken away by the state." The state isn't asking for something for nothing. Nursing home care is very expensive. It's hard to find good people who want to care for the elderly and to keep them requires a high wage. It's a stressful business. If you can see nursing home care as a ministry rather than a band of people trying to rob you of your inheritance, peace of mind will come to you sooner.

We live in a country where the many people believe that health care is an entitlement rather than a benefit. Those people expect the government to pay for their parents' care, while at the same time resent the fact that the government expects to either be reimbursed or provided with proof that there are no resources to pay for the care. Another mindset that should be analyzed, I suppose.

If your parents own their home and are going into a nursing home, here are some things to know: 1) The new federal "look back" period for property transfers is five years. (It used to be three). If a piece of property is given away or sold for less than fair market value, there will be a period of ineligibility for Medicaid. "Period of ineligibility" is a nice way of saying "you have to pay for it". So YOU may benefit if Dad signs his house over to you for $1, but DAD will have to cash out his CD's and stocks to pay for his care. If you want your parents' home, buy it at fair market value, OR have them sign it over to you when they are in very good health and have at least five good years left. That's a difficult prediction to make. Most of the people I encounter miss the mark.
2) When filing for Medicaid, check "yes" on the question "Do you intend to return to this property" Yes, your loved one may be on hospice, have Alzheimer's, etc and you know they won't ever go home. Checking that "yes" box protects the property from consideration and will not be counted as an asset or resource. 3) Federal law mandates vigorous estate recovery. When your loved one dies, the state will want to be reimbursed from the estate. So that protected house will have to be sold.

In order to ease the burden on the family, an aging adult should see an Elder Law attorney for estate planning. They should purchase an irrevocable burial plan. The law allows for some cash to be converted into "income producing annuities". With an annuity, it's the income that is counted as an asset rather than the whole lump some of the annuity. For example, if you have a $1,000 annuity that pays you $10 per month, the state will look at the $10 monthly income as the asset, not the $1000 annuity. (Note: There are limits to how much money you can sink into income producing annuities.)

No matter how old (or young) you are, the time is now to prepare for you old age. I cannot stress this enough. While the last year has been incredibly taxing on me, I'm grateful for the experiences I've had and the information I've absorbed.

Mom's just slipping. Her physical health is pretty good. Her mental health is so troublesome. She's lost most of the time. Literally. She wanders around the nursing home, wondering what day it is... what time... She can't find my office anymore.

She wanders into administration and goes into every office door. I've been told that she'll go into one office, not see me, then leave. Then she'll turn around and go right back in. If I see her, I'll go get her and wheel her in.

The hoarding continues to grow and grow. She saves everything and spends her days sorting, stacking and "organizing". It's all undone at the end of the day because her sorting is done on her bed and it must be cleared for her to sleep.

The prospect of acquiring really energizes her. It doesn't matter what the prize, it's the acquisition that thrills her. She saves beads, packs of catchup (she hates catchup), bendy straws. Her largest collection is the little postcard pullouts that come in magazines. Sadly, she also pilfers prizes from her neighbors. Most are very understanding and just quietly take their belongings back.

Her long term memory is beginning to intrude upon the present. She asks me where clothing is that she hasn't worn in years. She thinks she sees people who are long dead.

One of the nurses approached me today and asked if I'd noticed how my mom's dementia has escalated. Yes. I've noticed. I'm at a complete loss as to what to do? I know she's safe. I know she's well cared for. She might complain about "the service" but they really do look after her.

What's next? Tomorrow. That's what's next. And we'll take it a day at a time.

My mother asked me to buy a refrigerator for her the other day. (NO... NO...NO... and if my siblings are watching, I swear I'll pack her up and send her to YOU if you buy her a fridge! Don't DO IT!!!)

;o)

All my life, whenever there's a refrigerator in my Mom's life, it's got this puddle of brown goo under the crisper drawers. Not IN the drawers, under them. This is a mystery that my sisters and I have pondered on several occasions. We grew up with the goo. But none of us have had the goo in our own refrigerators.

OK, I had the goo. But only after Mom moved in with me. I haven't asked my brother, but once she stayed at his house for several months. I wonder if HE got the goo. (I know she kept a bowl of cookie dough under her bed for several weeks while she was there.) As soon as Mom moves out, the goo disappears. WHAT IS IT???? What combination of stuff do you have to buy and ignore in order to get the Brown Goo.

I'm open to answers out there. Anybody have a clue about the goo?

Anyway... I told my mother in no uncertain terms, no fridge. It's back to the hoarding. If Mom had a fridge, she'd save every uneaten morsel of the food she hates so much. Her bureau drawers are filled with bread slices, hard as boards, butter pats and salad dressing packets as it is.... imagine what she'd do with a fridge....

Has it really been over a week since I posted? So much has happened.

Mom is becoming more and more confused. She has a hard time finding my office. She loses things. The clutter in her room is becoming a nightmare. In spite of all that, she's in pretty good spirits. She and her room mate continue to bond. Roomie even coaxed Mom to a BINGO game! (Lord have mercy! Mom's gambling!) Mom even won a game or two. Mom has also begun eating lunch and dinner in the dining room. She's made friends with a great lady who just loves Mom.

I've come to the realization that my time at the nursing home is coming to an end. My job is taking such a toll on me. It's not because of Mom. The job itself is impossible. If there were THREE of me, my work wouldn't get done. Just when I think I might have a few hours to tackle the workload, I either get sent home because of low census, or some customer service crisis requires "all hands on deck"--which means, ME out of the office again. My co-workers seem so good at handling the chaos. For me, I'm not sleeping. I feel ill most of the time, and by Sunday afternoon I'm a nervous wreck about the piles of undone work on my desk.

It's time for me to go. I talked to Mom about it a little. Her initial reaction was "don't leave me here!!!" She later came to my office and told me not to worry about her. I know she's afraid, but I think she's ready. She's made a lot of friends. So have I. I know that my friends will look after her.

I have so much guilt about the prospect of leaving the nursing home.

The other day my son's teacher called, he'd lost his science folder. When I talked to him about it, he said, "Mom, I've been looking all over for it. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to add to your stress." Hello? He's NINE and he's worried about my STRESS!!! I've neglected my children so that I can care for my mother.

More guilt.

Who knows what will happen next? In the mean time, I've got a bunch of resumes out. My utopia? Mom comfortable and safe. My marriage tended to, like it's supposed to be. My children feeling like they have full access to their mother. And for me? Maybe a full night's sleep and a job that wasn't impossible. That would be Utopia.

You pray-ers out there? Keep me on your list, OK?