Without being overly dramatic or revealing, I spent many years in another life time making daily decisions that mildly to harshly altered people’s plans, desires, privacy, freedom, life and breath. I did it and won’t say I never looked back, but I did it without blinking. Now I blink.
Now I succumb to wishful thinking, procrastination, delegation to a ‘higher authority’, avoid making decisions because, as I have alluded to, I don’t see, feel, assess the ‘tipping point’ that others so readily see. Perhaps they have been there before and recognize the obvious. Is that it? Is that what is really going on, or is there a deeper issue here? I actually think there is, but I cannot express it or identify the path in or out of this mental cloud.
My fear is I will make decisions based on getting to where I think I am suppose to be, not based upon my clear discernment of what is real. Does anyone ever know in these muddled middle areas? Well, even if it is handed to me on a platter of what experts think is best for my aunt, I will ultimately have to do what I did before…make a decision and live with it. This is a mental issue for me that I never in all of my working, adult life had difficulty with, but now I do. Different when it is your ‘own’. That is the difference.
Tonight I met with the primary care giver. We formed a plan of assessing the current meds and schedule. We agreed on how to brief the new doctor. We agreed to try all options to keep my aunt safe (alarm system for exiting wheelchair and bed); hospital bed/side rails; cognitive assessments.
Tonight I met with my aunt. She was forlorn. Her knee aches. She did not recall falling 3 times in a week. She denies falling and believes the staff is telling lies. She resents the staff telling me about her falls. But, wait, I thought you didn’t fall? No answer. Lordy me. She calls the staff by neighbor’s names. She thinks she lives in an upstairs room and the downstairs ‘boarders’ are making too much noise. She recalls her sister called today, but has no idea what they talked about. She thinks it is Tuesday, but is Friday. She asks me, not when but if I think she will ever go home again. An opening….I say I don’t know. A mental issue for sure…..mine.