Transition

The week before Christmas, my mom Vivian fell and fractured her left hip. This required a pin surgically placed in her hip. Thank God, mom did not need hip replacement. The day after Christmas, my mom was transferred to a rehab facility to begin her short-term physical therapy. The move to the facility went well, and mom was recovering wonderfully from the surgery. Unfortunately, mom was uncooperative in her exercise sessions with the physical therapist. The therapist felt mom's fear of falling might have been the culpit in her not participating in the sessions. Before the fall, I had my own concerns about mom's walking ability. It was definitely shaky, and mom had begun expressing a fear about falling. Following several weeks in the rehab facility, I was faced with a difficult decision to make. Was my mom coming home or would she be going to a nursing home? How does one make an important decision at a time when one is mentally and emotionally raw. As the primary caregiver, the decision was entirely mine to make. I waivered back and forth with the question "was it to soon for mom to go to a nursing home?" Only to answer the question with a question "what's to soon?" Unfortunately, I didn't have long to process things. Time was of the essence, and I needed to make a decision soon. During this time, I had the opportunity to be a participant in an alzheimer's caregiver focus group. As anyone knows who has ever participated in one, they can be quite emotional. Sharing experience(s) with other caregivers is like being in a support group. It was a cathartic experience for me. Being able to release a lot of emotions (a.k.a. lots of crying) around others who understood what I was going through. As much as I wanted mom to come home with me from the hospital, I knew it wouldn't be. Mom needed 24/7 care I wasn't able to provide. Therefore, I decided to place my mom in a nursing home. This was not an easy decision for me to make. Not a day goes by, I don't wonder if I did the right thing? The overwhelming sadness and loneliness coming home to an empty house every night after visiting mom. Memories of mom humming to a song on the radio, or checking in on her at night before going to bed. I imagine, this is what it feels like to be an empty nester. What's next? A question I often found myself asking as the caregiver for a loved one with Alzheimer's. I don't know what's next. For now, it's taking it one day at a time as mom and I, adjust to the new living arrangements we are both faced with.