Last Wednesday
morning we received a cell phone call from the caregiver for Shauna’s mom that
she had fallen. She implored us to call Mrs. Taylor because she was refusing to
go to the hospital. I am writing this report in déjà vu mode, to remind all of
you docile children of aging octogenarian, or in this case nonagenarian parents
– common sense erodes with age. You must be prepared to be firm and take charge
when a crisis arises. While the caregiver was down in the basement, Mom Taylor
had tried to go downstairs to join her, became dizzy and slipped on the stairs.
Our worst case scenario. What was particularly serious about the fall, apart
from the fact she is ninety years old, was that she had hit her head and had a
goose egg bruise. That was the red flag. We finally insisted on calling an
ambulance. Within 10 minutes of their arrival, paramedics had put her in an
immobilizing neck collar and rushed her to the hospital. A number of tests at
the hospital confirmed that she had fractured her C1 and C2 vertebrae, and was
in danger of complete paralysis. She was adamant that she was all right, yet
she was possibly moments away from quadriplegia.
As I write this, I
am sitting in the hospital with her, and while extremely agitated and in pain –
those neck collars are not designed for comfort – she is, for now, safe. Based
on her advanced years, doctors will not contemplate invasive spinal surgery unless
absolutely necessary. We will know little for 4-6 weeks, but wherein
quality-of-life is concerned, this is a quantum leap down for Shauna’s mom. I
am reminded of the beginning of my journey into geriatric purgatory, when my
father slipped and broke his hip about 11 or 12 years ago. What became apparent
during that accident was that my mom was not reacting or behaving appropriately,
and both my sister and I and our spouses had to remotely negotiate a
ridiculously elaborate maze of bureaucratic nonsense in order to get my father
back over the U.S. border and into a U.S. hospital (the accident occurred at
our summer home in Canada). He almost died, and what unfolded soon thereafter
was the gradual realization that my mom was in the beginning stages of a rare
dementia known as Lewy Body Disease. Everything went south from there for both
of them, and the next four years of my life were challenging to say the least.
Coordinating health care professionals, doctors, insurance coverage, was hard
enough, but arranging to make my parents’ handicapped unfriendly home into a
small hospital was a minor nightmare. My point is this: one minute everything
is ok, and the next, it isn’t.
Shauna’s dad
passed on in 2013, but not before a serious of downward steps resulting from a
series of strokes that were emotionally painful and completely unexpected. Now
this latest journey into the world of geriatric worst case scenarios makes me wonder
if my contemporaries have had the same rocky ride. We have tried to do
everything we can to keep our independent parents safe and healthy, while at
the same time maintaining their dignity, but sometimes things just go very
wrong. Thanks to our house sitters for stepping in. We’ll be back as soon as we
are able.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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