Winter and spring falls

It’s a new year, and already big changes are happening. To try to reduce the restlessness that is causing Carolyn to pace the halls until she passes out and falls, they have started her on Haldol, which is a great improvement so far. 

At first she was sleeping around the clock, but after a couple of days she is adjusting to the drug and is awake in the morning and afternoons now. I’m hoping for continuing calmness and comfort for her.

The other big news is that she fell last weekend, and after the pain would not go away, they brought in a x-ray machine. She has a minimally displaced pelvic fracture on the left side. I was worried that she might need palliative surgery to recover, but after a meeting today with her nurses, it seems that it will eventually heal without surgery. We all agreed that she would not be likely to fully recover from general anesthesia in her present condition.

We are all learning how to handle her when transitioning from bed to wheelchair to toilet and back. She has no pain standing or sitting, it’s just the movement from one position to the other. I have noticed that it isn’t necessary to have her try to rotate after standing to get perfectly aligned with the toilet or bed. The twisting hurts worse than just tipping her in sideways. After she is down, then it is easy to move her without much pain to where she needs to be. The key seems to be having her hold on to me and help lift herself as we move her.

We discussed whether she needs stronger pain medication, and I expressed my reservations on that, because the pain that occurs when she tries to walk is what is keeping her from getting up and walking around and possibly falling again. As long as she is comfortable and pain free while sitting or lying in bed, I am OK with her pain drugs at the level they are. It’s a relief not to worry about the next call that she fell again, and wondering if this is the time she leaves us for good.

I was surprised to find that the nurses were worried that I was dissatisfied with the care that Carolyn is receiving. I reassured them that I am grateful for the care and concern she receives at Featherstone, and I don’t know how I could manage with out the help we get. 

I guess it is the constant falling that has them worried, but it worries me, too, and I know there is no way that someone could follow her around 24/7 with their arms under hers to catch her in every fall. As I peruse the multitude of websites and Facebook pages from others dealing with dementia, a constant theme is that in the later stages of this awful disease, falling is inevitable. 

For many, the end of life and the cessation of dementia occurs after they break a hip during a fall, and never recover. I am hoping that doesn’t happen with Carolyn, but I realize with fear and trepidation that it is a real possibility. I am trying to spend more time each day with her to fill in the times when the nurses have others to care for.

I have suspended our afternoon wine tasting sessions while she adjusts to this new drug. Maybe in a week or two I’ll resume, but I will notify the nurses when I do. They need to know the schedule so they can plan their daily drug regimen to allow for that. 

Carolyn no longer recognizes me on sight, but she smiles and wants a hug and kiss when I introduce myself each day, and that is good for me and my mental health, too.

The solstice is past, the bitter cold spell is breaking, the washing machine on the back porch has thawed, and spring is on the way. Every day is a new opportunity to find moments of joy and peace, amid the fear and chaos that also is part of life. 

I take a deep breath, and know I can do this.