Wednesday, November 14, 2018
My Personal Handbook to Help You Help Your Elderly Parent
I recently lost my
dad, 72 years old, to a 30 plus year battle with Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA),
plus COPD and chronic heart problems. That’s just a fraction of the story. Just
shy of four years prior I lost my mom to complications to lung cancer, she was
just 68. My mom was my dad’s caretaker, even in the midst of battling cancer
and enduring chemotherapy, she helped him with almost everything. Dad was riddled with RA, having been
diagnosed before the advent of modern autoimmune pharmaceuticals, that he had
both hips replaced, one twice, all the bones in his toes removed, both knees
replaced, severely crippled hands, and in his final four years the RA attacked
his eyes.
When mom suddenly
passed away, my brother and I were in a position needing to care for a parent
that really could not care for himself.
Dad could not even tie shoes or button his shirts. What was worse, he
was insistent upon staying at home and not moving into a much-needed assisted
living facility. While I knew he needed
to be in assisted living I could empathize with the desire to stay in his own home. This was going to be tricky.
Technology Solutions - Security
The first thing I
needed to solve for was the basic ability to know if he was okay. I could call
and text constantly, but still less than an effective monitoring solution. Living 30 minutes away, it was difficult to
simply drop in, so I needed a more sophisticated solution. I reached out to my
own alarm company provider, CPI Security, to determine if they had a solution
to help me. They did! Cameras with night vision could be installed at numerous high-risk
areas of the house for me to monitor 24/7. However, that wasn’t the key
ingredient; a medical alert necklace connected to the system gave dad the
ability to trigger the alarm if he was in medical distress or had fallen. If he
triggered the medical alert alarm, the monitoring system could speak to him
over a two-way loudspeaker. If he hit the alarm on accident, he could verbally cancel
it. If he had fallen or was ill, and this is the best part, the PIN code door locks
on the front and back doors would be automatically unlocked allowing EMT’s to
enter the home without the need to break down a door.
I want to stress, I
realize this is not the most suitable. However, not only was it better than
forever tainting my relationship with my dad by forcing into assisted living,
but it’s also important to acknowledge that even 24 hour care at a facility
cannot prevent illness or falls. For example, dad in fact did fall four times
in four years. Two of them I was standing across the room, watched it happen,
and could do nothing to stop it. Two of them, he was home alone, triggered the
alarm, and was sent medical attention in short order. In today’s sensitive
society, someone will certainly read this and suggest I was careless in my
approach, but in dealing with family and aging parents, sadly there is no
rulebook. The security system and the ensuing suggestions are how I managed the
situation and created compromise with my stubborn dad.
Technology Solutions – Lights &
Thermostat
On top of the
integrated security system, I installed several other enhancements that would
allow dad to easily do things such as turn lights on and off or adjust the
temperature in the room. The first thing
was to install new ceiling fans that operated via remote control. I opted for
indoor/outdoor fans designed for additional durability and included a wireless
remote because dad couldn’t reach over his head to pull the chain. This would
give him the ability to quickly cool down the room if he got hot. But I also
wanted a solution for him to be able to adjust the HVAC temperature easily as
well. Sadly, even the thermostat on the
wall was too high for him to reach.
For the thermostat I
selected Iris by Lowe’s. I liked it
because the thermostat, light switches and the garage door could all be
operated in the same iPhone app. This
gave dad the ability to turn lights on and off, which just like the ceiling fan
and thermostat was impossible for him to do given the crippled state of his
hands. Admittedly, if I had it to do all
over again, I would have utilized CPI security for these solutions as
well. That would have provided a single
app on his iPhone that would provide the ability to control the security
system, light switches, garage door, and thermostat all in one single app. Our parents these days in their 60’s and 70’s
are relatively proficient with their mobile devices, but still I could have
reduced a little confusion by having all of these home automation technology
solutions in one single app. The cost
would have been greater, but worth the price for simplicity for dad.
Finances
This is such a tough
one to manage. When mom first died, I
was two months away from my wedding, was depressed, and now had two sets of
bills to pay. While my bills are largely
automated and have been for some time, even at that juncture, mom paid all her’s
and dad’s bills and did so via physical check. My recommendation to you is
setup an online account at your parent’s bank.
This gives you the ability to monitor their spending for susceptibility
to scams, but your sales pitch to them is your ability to automate the bill
paying process. Most banks give you the
ability to receive an eBill without autodrafting the payment. You can pay on demand as the bills arrive
with no check writing, envelope licking, or stamp buying. And of course full automation of bill payment
can be implemented as well. This took me
some time on the front end, but saved so much time in the long run. Don’t skip
this step.
Online Purchasing
Caution ahead! One
thing dad fretted tremendously was the loss of ability to go to the store and
buy things. As a result I set him up with AmazonPrime to give him the
experience of freedom. In one to two days he could receive just about anything
imaginable without the burden of asking someone to purchase it for and bring it
to him. Final analysis suggests AmazonPrime was a good idea for all the obvious
reasons. The unintended consequences
were the challenge. Online purchasing with AmazonPrime gave dad the comfort
with online purchasing in general.
Between Fanatics.com and Nike.com, dad made thousands of dollars of purchases.
Now we have the difficult challenge of cleaning his house of 30 years of
collecting, plus 3 plus years of excessive online purchasing.
In-Home Care
Security systems and home
automation can only do so much. Luckily
for us, dad had a long term care insurance policy. His plan offered $113,000 of skilled nursing or certified in-home
care. We chose of course in-home care,
through an organization called Comfort Keepers, because that’s where dad wanted
to be - home. His care plan consisted of
6 hours of care per day, six days each week. Then on Sundays it was my
turn. In three plus years of this plan,
dad used about half of the sum dollar total before he passed, one of my many
regrets. If he insisted on being at
home, I should have forced him to allow Kim or Kathy, his in-home caretakers
whom he did like, to be there more hours each day and on Sunday too. Occasionally
I did travel on the weekend (though my wife and I, save our honeymoon right
after mom’s death, have not taken a full week’s vacation in four years). We also
needed to add a third person in the mix to give Kathy and Kim a break and the
opportunity to vacation.
Again, I believe a
skilled nursing facility or assisted living would have the correct care model
for a man as crippled and ill as my dad. However, now that he’s gone, I am
extremely happy he was able to stay at home and we were able to create a model
that enabled that. Staying at home also put dad in the situation to address his
monthly mortgage. He had more than enough money in his retirement investments
to pay off the house. Ultimately, he decided to pursue that option. Almost half
of all Americans have a mortgage when they retire, and 20-25% of them never pay
that mortgage off. I know dad was proud
to be a retiree from Southern Bell (AT&T) having never achieved more than a
high school education, and still had the financial stability to own his home
outright – even if for only the remaining year and half of his life.
End of Life Medical Treatment
Not surprisingly, this
is the most difficult one. Around noon
on Sunday September 30, 2018 while at Asbury Care Center, the rehabilitation
center dad was at attempting to regain his ability to walk and stand, I
received a call giving me an uneasy sense. I was standing on a ladder and
didn’t answer the phone, but the voicemail was ominous. “This is Asbury Care Center, can you call me
at your earliest convenience regarding your father” the voicemail stated. I
thought he had died. Of course, my return calls went unanswered, so I drove 100
miles per hour it seemed to Asbury just 4 miles from my house. When I arrived,
nursing staff told me he had been unresponsive and had no pulse, but had come
back around and was being transported to the hospital. He was on his way to Presbyterian
Main, the facility he himself had actually verbalized to EMTs he wanted to go.
After hours in the ER waiting room, we were able to meet with a doctor. After
her analysis in dad’s presence, I followed her out of the ER room and asked
“what’s the score here?” She bluntly told me it wasn’t good; “this visit was
about to mark 3 ICU visits in September alone. We’re not quite in a hospice
situation, but I don’t think rehabilitation is any longer an option,” Dr.
McCrea told me.
Over the next six
days, I never saw or spoke to another doctor, despite my being there morning
and evening almost every single one of those of days. That ensuing Wednesday evening dad told me
some disturbing things. He said the President (of the United States) had
visited his room earlier, and said nothing but smiled at him. In addition, a
little girl crawled in the bed and slept with him for a few hours as well. Not to mention the additional patient he
claimed had spent the bulk of the day in his room with her hospital bed lined
up next to his. I ignored the first two,
but assured him that other patients were not placed in his room, ICU was very
concerned about germs and would not do so. I asked nursing staff and was told
it was ICU delirium – nothing to be concerned about. I sensed otherwise but
didn’t push back. That was until Friday evening when dad called me and
alarmingly stated, “I need your help! I’m at home and I can’t figure out how to
get these lights on.” Alarmed I asked why he was discharged and who took him
home. That’s when the nurse, Brandon,
spoke into the phone “Mr. Tompkins, you’re still in the hospital and all the
lights are on.” I asked Brandon to speak
privately and told him this was not ICU delirium and that I suspected oxygen
issues. He said they would run more tests, but that the metrics currently
suggested he was properly oxygenated. I never heard back from Brandon or the
hospital, and I never spoke to my dad again.
The next morning I
was dreading going to the hospital. What
would I find? What condition was he going to be in? Was he going to lucid and
upset with me for not visiting the night before after his call about being
confused? At 9:44 am while sitting in my driveway about to go to the hospital,
my phone rang; the number I didn’t recognize. I knew. On the other end was ICU nurse Whitney
describing to me some technical medical terms. I asked her to explain it as if
I was an idiot, which I am. The nub of the issue? I was correct. While he was
receiving adequate oxygen, he wasn’t able to breathe hard enough to expel the
CO2. I now know it’s called Hypercapnia. His blood was being poisoned every
time he inhaled and that’s why he was hallucinating, and why his vision was
dimmed making him think the lights were off in the room. I asked, “So what do we do?” Whitney informed
the only solution was a ventilator, something dad, in his previous ICU visit
just weeks earlier, articulated he did not want. I told her to hold off, but
that I was already in my car and was literally 3.3 miles away. I arrived at his
room somewhere between 10:10 and 10:13. He died at 10:05. I’ll never forgive
myself for not being there in the one moment he really needed me – as he faced
the unknown.
My guidance to you
the reader if you find yourself in this situation might seem obvious to you,
but somehow eluded me. Six days earlier
when Dr. McCrea said “we’re not in a hospice situation” I believed that to be true. And here’s the thing. She wasn’t lying or
misleading – there’s just no way to know. Trust your gut in these situations. I knew
that night in the ER when I asked Dr. McCrea the score, I should have known
that analysis was a day-to-day and should not be considered a long-term
prognosis. I should have been asking more questions every day. I should have
requested meetings with doctors or learning what time of day I should be
present in ICU room 11 to encounter the attending doctor. I know there was no cure for what killed my
dad. I know prolonging his life by pressing the staff days earlier that I
suspected some sort of oxygen related issue, was only delaying the
inevitable. But knowing the truth, and
that the clock was ticking a lot faster than I believed it to be, would have
positioned me to be there before it was too late would have spared me what will
now be a lifetime of anguish and regret.
Doctors and nurses
can’t predict the future and give you a precise timeline to death. You also
need to understand the death of your loved one is a part of their daily life.
The urgency you feel isn’t the same for them, especially in cases like my dad
who to them it’s boldly apparent he could slip away any minute. I still feel
someone should have told me that. I’ve even contemplate legal action for the
weeks of punishment I’ve already put myself through – I wouldn’t mind
reimbursement for the lifetime of counseling I will need to attempt to move
past not being there when I could have been. The point is, you may disagree
that I did something wrong. You may disagree that I should seek litigation. But
you can’t disagree that if I had it to do all over again, and that you’re
reading this you may be in the same boat right now; that more information is
always better, being a pest is better than being liked by nursing staffs, and
getting in the driver’s seat of your parent’s final days is the ONLY option. I
didn’t exercise that option in full and I have to live with that now. If you
are amidst these circumstances, you can avoid my regret.
Final Analysis
It was difficult to
have an aging parent unable to take care of himself all by himself at his house.
But in the end, I am glad I was able to make that work, even if sometimes just
barely. I know at my end, I will want to
the comforts of my own surroundings just as he did. All I can hope is he
appreciated everything we all did to ensure safety mechanisms were in place,
conveniences were created, and his best interests were always in consideration.
I hope if you find yourself in a similar circumstance, some of this content can
help you navigate a very difficult situation.
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