The Sad News and the Better
At the
Memory Care Unit yesterday, I was sitting at my mother’s dinner table with her
coffee, waiting for her to be brought out from her room. One on the CNAs we’re
friendly with came over to me and said very softly, “Ruth passed away
yesterday.”
I
wrote about Ruth previously:
she was the woman who thought my husband and I were her niece and nephew. I was
shocked to hear this news, as she didn’t seem to be in ill health. It was a
heart attack, the CNA said. I don’t know whether she died there in the unit or
was taken to a hospital first, and I didn’t want to ask; as I wrote once, the
staff protects the confidentiality of the residents and their families. She
told me, she said, because she knew we were friendly with Ruth.
Ruth
was a sweet, lovely lady who laughed a lot and always seemed to be happy. She
enjoyed playing bingo and doing jigsaw puzzles, and she was very good at the
latter. Every time we came in she would beam and call out, “There’s my nephew
and niece” and beckon us to come over. My husband was happy to play along with
her, answering her questions about other family members by saying we hadn’t
seem them lately but thought they were doing well. We will miss her, but I hope
that her belief that we were relatives made her a little happier in her last
year of life. And I’m glad that she’s been released from the prison of her damaged
mind and taken to a place where everything will be clear again.
Later
the CNAs were talking with a new resident, a man who’s been there about a
month, calling him “Dr. Jack.” One of them said to us, “Dr. Jack used to be a
heart surgeon.” That took me aback. A heart surgeon, and where is all that
knowledge and skill now? How many people’s lives did he save during his career?
They will surely remember him, but he no longer does them, nor how his mind and
hands performed medical miracles every day. It was another sad and scary
reminder that this disease can happen to anyone, no matter how intelligent, no
matter how much you used your mind and brain in your lifetime.
But we
did get some positive news yesterday: the itching that has been plaguing my
mother for the past couple of weeks seems to be subsiding. She had been
scratching constantly, and her skin was red, torn, and mottled on her arms,
face, and stomach. She’s had episodes of this in the past and needed a
dermatologist’s care. This time the doctor didn’t prescribe medication but a
regimen of over-the-counter preparations: Eucerin cream, Dove soap, Aveeno
lotion. Fortunately it seems to be finally working.
And in
this warm weather she’s been getting out into the garden to sit in the
sunshine; she loves being outside. “We take them out in the morning, and she
raises her face and closes her eyes and nods off,” one of the CNAs said. And
when the garden starts to bloom again, it will warm her gardener’s heart to see
the flowers and vegetables, to be in the warm free air after being confined
inside all winter. And I’ll be grateful for the new rays of sunshine in her
life.
Elaine, so sorry about Ruth (I remember your previous post) but am also glad she is released from the mind's cage she was confined in. So glad to hear that your mom's itching has found a measure of relief and don't we all love the springtime sunshine the best? May all the rays that grace her bring a source of happiness.
ReplyDeleteawwww poor ruth--but how nice it was for you to care about her--glad your mom is better
ReplyDeleteWatching as people's lives shift from the association they have with what they did, to who they are is an interesting one. I found that if the memory is still in tact, there are great treasures just beneath the surface.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking of you, as I haven't been back here i a while. but I'm starting a writing workshop link if you want to try your hand at it. WOuld love to have you! Sorry about Ruth.
ReplyDeletehttp://sandrasfiberworks.blogspot.com/2012/05/sandras-writing-workshop-hop.html