The rain started last night and, while never particularly heavy, it continued through this morning, and we’re still getting the odd showers. It’s only 17C/63F out there and windy, making it feel like 12C/52F, according to my apps.

Overcast, damp and chilly…

… not a surprise that I woke up in pain and have been feeling ready to fall asleep all day.

Definitely not the sort of weather to take the transplants outside, never mind actually planting anything.

So it’s been an inside sort of day, and not a very productive one.

The outside cats don’t seem to mind, though.

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I think I counted 25 this morning! I did not see Broccoli or her kittens, nor did I hear anything when I left food in the old garden shed for them. Hopefully, they were just being very quiet, and have not been moved.

I’m rather concerned about Patience, Peanut Butter Cup’s brother outside. While their fur colours are very different, they look very much alike. PBC had problems with a leaky butt that has improved substantially. Patience, however, has suddenly gotten worse. His poor behind is looking quite unfortunately and messy. Whatever the problem is, it’s only affecting him and (previously) his sister. So we can rule out quite a few possible contagious causes. We’re already dosing their kibble with lysine. We’re not in a position to start dosing them with something like the Healthy Poops stuff that we’re giving the inside cats through their daily Cat Soup mixture. It’s not like we can isolate the one cat and treat him, right now, either.

Well, such is life with semi-feral cats, unfortunately. Hopefully, he will improve as time goes by.

In other things, my mother had her home care panel yesterday, and it went “well”.

Too “well.”

He went through one of the panel lists with us – about a dozen pages – and a few times, he simply handed it to me to read over and mark things off. This dealt with her physical challenges. He explained, before we started, how the “marking” system worked, and what was used to determined the level of care a person might need.

Before he arrived, my mother had made a list of concerns, as I suggested, that we went over together. I’m glad I showed up early to do that. My mother’s writing is a mix of Polish and English, usually with English words spelled phonetically Polish. Others… I’m honestly not sure how she’s deciding to spell things! Some of the things she wrote down, though, I just couldn’t figure out.

There are a few things she keeps trying to bring up with anyone she things is a medical professional of some sort, even when it’s not something they can answer – like asking the lab tech taking her blood about her urinary issues. This time, she was adding things like her burping. She complains about burping a lot, but as she talks more about it, she eventually says that she is having pains and making herself burp actually makes her feel better. After much questioning about the pain she’s feeling, she seemed to be talking about just below her solar plexus, but also about general chest pain. It is incredibly difficult to narrow things down because, no matter how many times we’ve tried to explain things to her, she cannot grasp basic anatomy.

While going over the list, there were things that, on their own, were not topics he could deal with, so we talked about what he was there for again, and the concerns she had, both physical and mental, that he could take into account.

Of course, once he was there, she found ways to talk about all sorts of things that were completely outside of his scope.

I’d also told her that this was the time to talk about her worst and most difficult days; the reasons why she doesn’t feel safe living where she is now.

When the time came, though, she – as always! – made light of the major things, and made a big deal out of the minor things!

I tried my best to keep her more honest, but he can only go by what she says and agrees to. So if she says she can cope with her knees, even though they are what puts her most at risk, he has to go with that. Meanwhile, she’ll start talking about waking up with a dry mouth at night as if it’s such a big deal, even though we’d already talked about how she’s probably just falling asleep with her mouth open. I tried to explain to her the difference between that, and having a medical condition that causes dry mouth, as they are VERY different, but she completely dismissed it.

In the end, he had a few things he could offer her from Home Care.

She rejected almost every one of them.

The only area she was willing to give in was for a commode to keep by her bedside, and you could see, it really was a “giving in”, not something she wanted. Frankly, I don’t know that she’ll even use it, but will keep using a bucket, instead. We’d already tried to loan her a commode, and she would not use it. Granted, one they provide would be a lot more comfortable and have hand rails. So we’ll see.

Among her concerns was how much harder it is for her to cook her meals or do her dishes, etc. because of her knees. She has to hang on to the counters, or use her cane, to get around her apartment. Meal prep was offered. One option was to have someone come to her home a couple of times a day to basically do a heat and eat, or prepare a soup and sandwich type thing. They only have 15 minutes, so they can’t cook a meal from scratch. Not something that would be very useful for her. The other was to have someone come every couple of weeks for 2 hours, and do a whole meal prep from scratch, with the complete meals left in her fridge and freezer to heat up as needed. That would have been very useful for her.

She turned it down, because she prefers to cook her own food – or use Meals on Wheels.

She actually had home care a few years back, as she was recovering from surgery. She hated it and was nasty to the home care worker. Back when I was a kid, she actually did home care for extra money every now and then, and she doesn’t understand that what she did, 40 years ago, is completely different from how it’s done now. Even the qualifications have changed. If today’s requirements existed back then, she could never have done any home care at all.

Basically, she wants help, but hates getting help, because it’s never “right” or good enough.

One of the things she brought up was moaning about how she’s probably going to need a wheelchair soon (she’s been saying that for a few years now). I reminded her, we have one waiting, if she needs it. It’s my late father’s wheelchair that was brought to her, but then she decided she didn’t need it, so I took it to store here until she decides otherwise. I mentioned that my brother tried to give her mobility scooters and even a powered chair (much smaller), and she started going on about how they are so jerky to drive, and they have batteries. I had to explain that she’s a bit paranoid about batteries, but was unable to elaborate.

When talking about the wheelchair, though, I remembered to point out that she might not be able to use a manual chair. She might not have the arm strength for it, anymore. Operating a manual wheelchair is hard work!

By the end of it, it was obvious she didn’t “need” the long term care situation she wants to move to. The guy even expressed frustration early on, as many doctors have no idea what the approval process for LTC is, and just assume if they say a patient needs it, they’ll get it. There are so many people on the waiting lists for LTC, only the most severe cases actually get in.

There are, however, other options.

We’d been talking about Assisted Living for my mother, which is a step below LTC, however there is another step that’s basically between places like where my mother is now, and Assisted Living, called Supportive Housing. (In other provinces I’ve lived in, Assisted Living and Supportive Housing was pretty much different names for the same thing.)

There are very few such places, though. He named a few towns and the city, none of which are places my mother wants to live in.

There is, however, one in the town my brother lives in.

He suggested we look into it as somewhere my mother can go. I looked it up later, and the place is just a few years old. The building is split between Supportive Housing and 55+ Independent Living, which is sort of like what my mother is in now, but with better amenities. My brother and his wife will check it out, when they have the chance, because their website really kinda sucks. 😄

There were quite a few things, however, I needed to tell him that couldn’t be talked about in front of my mother, so when we were done, I walked him out to his vehicle. As we were passing through the lobby, there was a folded up wheelchair available for residents, and I told him that’s much like the one we have that my mother would be using. He told me he was glad I caught on that she might not have the arm strength to operate a manual wheelchair anymore. That’s not something they typically have to consider, since anyone at that stage would be using a motorized wheelchair – which my mother doesn’t want.

Once at the relative privacy by his vehicle, we chatted for a while. I clarified a few things for him, but there was so much, I missed a few others I wanted to bring up, but forgot about until later.

With some of them, he asked if the geriatric care nurse that had done the cognitive assessments was told about. With some, I couldn’t remember but, with others, I know I did discuss them with her. This was also where I mentioned the situation with our vandal, which is also relevant, but from the cognitive function area, not physical mobility and self care, which is his area. With things like her physical condition being worse than she made it out to be, there was really nothing he could do. If she says she’s good, he has to accept it. Her cognitive impairment isn’t severe enough to override that for her own safety.

So… my mother sabotaged herself again.

He is going to follow up with the person who did the cognitive assessments, though.

The other thing he’s going to arrange is for an Occupational Therapist to come in. If there are any changes that should be made to her apartment, they can make recommendations. This sort of assessment, done for my late father, is why this house has arm bars and hand rails, everywhere, and why we still have his bath transfer chair, should my husband’s bath chair no longer be enough.

I think my mother should really be using a hospital bed – especially with her concerns about breathing. Maybe if the OT suggests it, she’ll finally accept? She really ought to be sleeping more upright, for her breathing issues, and have a bed that is lower to the floor to make it easier for her to get in and out of. When I bring it up, though, she says she “doesn’t want to bother anybody”.

Which reminds me… I did bring up that a lot of the health complains she makes – the minor ones, not the serious ones she makes light of – are clearly more about her wanting attention. A better way to describe it, though, would have been that it’s about control, too, but I didn’t think of that until just now.

Oh, I also remembered to talk to him about mental health. At some point, she did have a diagnosis, but we don’t know what it was. My brother had tried to track down her old health records, with no success. When we first moved here and I was packing up the stuff in my mother’s dresser, I found a full box of pills prescribed to her. The doctor that prescribed them passed away quite a few years ago. When I looked up the medication, one of the things it’s usually prescribed for is manic depression (now called bi-polar disorder, I believe), but that may not have been her diagnosis at the time. She has a very long history of simply stopping medications she’d been given, or not taking them at all. I told him I believe she may be paranoid schizophrenic; she’s a textbook example of that, and I told him about some of the things I remembered her doing when I was a kid. This is not a new thing. It’s just getting worse as she gets older.

As we were talking, he gave me a copy of another assessment he had – this one is “only ” six pages long – that we didn’t cover. It’s a Behavioral Assessment. When I was able to go over it, I realized we really needed to have done this one – but there was no way we could have done it with her! She is not aware that these behaviours of hers are a problem, and feels entitled and justified to act that way. As I went over some of the questions, my first thought might be “no, she doesn’t really do that”. Then I’d read the examples and realize, yes, she does this. A lot! But these are things she doesn’t usually do when she’s alone at home. She does them when she’s with us.

I was able to talk to my brother about the home care assessment, yesterday evening. With some of the stuff, my brother has more information than I do. I sent him images of the Behavioral Assessment, and he was going to try calling the home care guy some time today, in between meetings. Hopefully, they’ll be able to connect.

So that’s were we’re at now.

In limbo, really.

My mother’s just on the edge of qualifying for the level of care she’s asking for, but not quite there yet. At least when it comes to the stuff we talked about at the time. If we’d been able to do the other assessment, it probably would have made the difference.

Still, even if we can just get her into Supportive Housing, it’s a foot in the door, and there would be trained people seeing her every day that could make determinations, as to whether she needs more help than they can give her. Once she’s on that path, it’ll be easier to get her the next step up, compared to where she is living now.

One thing about the place he recommended. If she moves there, I will become the one living furthest away from her. There would mean no more errands, or driving her to medical appointments, from me.

It would be back on my brother, as he would be the closest to her – and she has been so horrible towards him! If she’s living in the same town as him (they don’t actually live in the town, but on an acreage), she would expect him to be waiting on her, hand and foot.

The move would be good for her, but not for him!

Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it!

Until then, we just do what we can.

The Re-Farmer