I used to work on a hospital floor adjacent to a nursing home wing down the hall. Sometimes we could hear the loud screeching croak of what sounded like some kind of weird terrible bird coming from one of the rooms. One night the LPN asked if I could help change this patient's sheets--we weren't supposed to intermingle at all, but I said okay.

The LPN gave the patient a sedative to try to quieten her; other nursing home clients were longsuffering and didn't complain much, but after a while the constant screeching croak became almost unbearable, inasmuch as the screeching always occurred at night and pierced the walls, keeping all awake.

The lady, "Ms. Penelope" lay in a hospital bed curled in a fetal position, dry and slender as a stick, with a mighty set of lungs. How she could screech all night without losing her voice I don't know. We changed her urine soaked sheets. I felt such sympathy for anyone whose life would culminate in this. There were no photos of family, no flowers, no personal mementos anywhere.

The LPN said I want to show you something. In the top of a closet was a journal written by Ms. Penelope years before. The cursive handwriting was beautiful, the words eloquent and erudite. The journal was dedicated to a daughter who was deceased. Ms. Penelope wrote to her daughter about how much she missed her, and the daily struggles since her husband "Odysseus" had died.

All of a sudden it clicked-- I had never met Ms. Penelope, but one of her three sons had gone to the same school I had. Penelope and Odysseus had marvelous genes--they had produced three remarkably handsome sons. These boys had silky black hair, fair skin and iridescently bright green eyes. There was something regal and noble about them.

Slim wrists that seemed right to be framed by the brocade and lace of another age, long tapered graceful fingers, delicate features, aristocratic blue bloods, Dukes, Marquis' --they were born for royalty, not the Mississippi backwoods. Ms. Penelope, this terrible bird, was their mother. The sons were grown and had their own lives now, and hardly ever visited her.

One of the beautiful sons just died from Alzheimer's. Surely as the slow sinking into unreality occurred, he must have thought of his mother.

Susil

Comments:

Sue, brings back poignant memories. What a shame the family
forgot her.

What a poignant reminiscence! Hits close to home for me, as my stepmother is slowly losing her cognitive wits and physical strength. It's just going to be difficult time sooner than later to deal with her growing inability to live independently. At some point she too will need a supportive, care-giving environment. I worry for her.

comment by marta on July 7, 2008 10:53 PM ()

Hi marta; The impending need for long term care is a problem,
all right. (My daughter has already told me as soon as I can't
live independently she's putting me in a home.)
Supportive and caring are to be hoped for..I hope your step
mother is making plans already.
enviroments

reply by susil on July 8, 2008 3:45 PM ()

This is such a horrible disease, this is such a said story...I have a lot of respect for those who take on the challenges of caring for individuals that are afflicted...I send the very best to them all including the individuals below...

I don't think I could bear something like that. I watched my grandfather sink into alzheimers and it was awful watching this brilliant man get so lost. Worse than the lost, was the occasional look of clarity and that sadness that went with it

This is one reason my Mom is at home with us(also the home was $8,000.00 a month) and not in the nursing home.She has Alzheimers but still lives in the distance past.The other patients were violent and hit each other.We spent all our time at the home to protect her.She is much happier at home surrounded by love.Laurie

comment by dogsalot on July 7, 2008 4:57 PM ()

Hi Laurie; I am in admiration of you & family for keeping
your Mom at home--because it's difficult 24/7 to look after
someone with Alzheimer's. She's a lucky woman to have you.

reply by susil on July 8, 2008 3:16 PM ()

Way to go dogs. I cared for my late husband at home until the
end. Of course it was only possible because insurance provided
24/7 LPNs and RNs. Whatever else he forgot, he knew me because
I was there. The nurses said around 6 when I was expected home from work, he would look at the door.

reply by tealstar on July 8, 2008 4:25 AM ()

I have seen and heard patients exactly like this in the two nursing homes where my mother is. It is so sad and pitiful to see their lives deteriorate to the point that they hardly seem to be human. We put animals to sleep when they become incapacitated; but we insist that people live on in these pitiful states. How can we treat our pets with more humanity than our mothers and fathers?

comment by redimpala on July 7, 2008 2:50 PM ()

Dear impala; Your statements are so true.
I've always thought that human beings should be
given the same dignity as a pet, and not kept alive in a state
of being like Ms. Penelope--it's one of the most horrible things
I saw as a nurse.

reply by susil on July 8, 2008 3:03 PM ()