WINNEMUCCA - I lost a dear friend last week. I will miss her funny smile and inquisitive scowl, her flashing blue eyes and her repetitive tales. There will be no more swimming trips to our local pool, no more Bingo Fridays at the Senior Center, no more slaps from her wildly naught black cat. Everything changed through an e-mail I received last week.
Although our friendship began just 18 months ago, over time our bonds strengthened. As she learned to trust me I was able to assist her better with cleaning, shoe shopping and trips to the salon. It took time and patience but I believe I was able to make a positive difference in her life; she definitely enriched mine.
I knew that my friend's memory was failing. Her clothing became increasingly disarranged, her house less kempt, her conversations more wandering and her eating habits progressively stranger. I would enter her home to find opened remnants of microwaveable meals strewn throughout. Hunger was her companion even though she'd quickly forget to eat. But her smile invited me to share her photo albums and her father's World War II medals; her soft voice guided me through pictures of her mom and stories of her dog Happy.
I realized that living alone was becoming dangerous. But the idea that independent living was ending seemed distant. We still had time together. I also knew that when she had to leave her home she could move to our local care facility. Her name was on their list and from numerous Bingo trips she would be familiar with the surroundings. I did not want my friend to be fearful as this transition entered her life.
With our residential facility a few blocks from me we could still go swimming, take strolls and continue life in an accustomed patterned. I knew the regulations about dementia and wandering, but I also knew that my friend could abide by the rules and stay safely within her designated confines.
But all of that changed. You see, my friend has a label: ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE. This label somehow makes her a threat to society as she has an unseen but noticeable incapacity. After the Alzheimer's label has been assigned by family, friends or physicians, the rules for care change. The Big A means a lockdown facility because, yes, many Alzheimer's victims wander. And yes, my friend might wander, as might I or you or a stray pet. Wandering is a real threat and potential risk. And so instead of moving close to home my friend is moving to Fallon.
The Fallon facility accepts Alzheimer's patients. She will undergo testing and evaluation and then someone will determine her level of needed care. She knows she is going somewhere, she thinks she can bring her cat. She knows a change is taking place as clothing and knickknacks enter her suitcases, but she does not understand that this move may be permanent and that the faces she knows and loves will be far away, able to visit infrequently.
Fallon isn't far, but it isn't a few steps away. I worry about her adjustment in an entirely new place. I am sad because while I knew change would come, I didn't know it actually would. As this sadness brushing so close to me, I know that many of you are confronting similar situations. We have a lovely hospital with grand features and additions; we have a long-term care facility full of dedicated staff. But what can we do for loved ones who do not match the health care criteria. What can we do to expand local facilities to meet the needs of our Humboldt County residents?
Several people have contacted me with requests for long-term, in-home care or just an occasional reprieve. Others have told me about moving Dad or Grandma to facilities outside of our area when our facility was full. But with my friend forced out of town, I am struck by the inadequacy of care for the aging (not old, not elderly - I have come to detest those terms), those who may need us the most.
I am calling on you for help. We have wide hearts in our community. How can we add to or construct a local facility that accepts individuals for overnight or weekend stays to offer caregiver breaks or extended care for those with more severe conditions. What can we do? My heart breaks.
Gini Cunningham is the facilitator for the Alzheimer's Association Support Group, which meets the second Wednesday of each month at noon at Humboldt General Hospital. Her column appears the second Tuesday of each month in the Humboldt Sun. She can be reached via e-mail, gini.cunningham@sbcglobal.net.[[In-content Ad]]
