I don’t preach much. I fear sounding heavy-handed like someone else in our gene pool. But what happened today is a sermon in how God’s hand was on me, and on this whole situation. Let’s call today’s story, “Messengers.”
Yesterday, I explored the possibility of rehabilitation for Mom at two facilities: Clapps Nursing Center and Maryfield. I spent an hour at each and asked a lot of questions. A knot developed in my stomach with a growing fear that Mom would react adversely to having to leave Wagon Wheel Ranch. At the risk of seeming stereotypically Christian, I gave it up to God and the knot eventually dissipated.
I then struck on the strategy of employing Mom’s trusted long-time doctor in an assessment of his own and the delivery of the news. I got an appointment for Mom for this afternoon, and then spoke by phone with the head nurse (see last Friday’s e-mail) and explained my thoughts and strategy. More about this later.
Early this morning, Mom was put through the paces by a WWR physical therapist. I spent 45 minutes with him afterwards, and he tried to convince me that the services WWR could provide would do the trick. I had doubts, but it was the easiest of all possible answers if it worked.
Later, as we were loading Mom into the car to go to the doctor’s office, the assessor from a couple posts ago (Monday) drove up, and privately reaffirmed to me his belief that Mom needed the rehabilitation that Clapps or Maryfield could provide; not WWR. That’s God’s timing. I was wavering. God sent a messenger.
Pop came with us. [Contrary to previous assertions from both of them, Pop doesn’t come to her office visits except for once 5 years ago.] Mom’s doctor did a physical assessment, then stuck his nose deeply into the paperwork received over the past couple of weeks. When he finally came up for air, he began to ask good questions, and this time he even directed some of them to me. He strongly recommended Clapps for rehabilitation, and I asserted to Mom that the whole point of the exercise was to get her back to WWR. I even went so far as to say that I didn’t want her going to Maryfield because I didn’t want her to think we were dumping her there for good. Further, I committed to remaining here, and spending my days with her to encourage her work and to remind her that it was all about getting back to WWR. She understood.
When we returned to WWR, their chief therapist, Don – who Mom has known for a long time – was waiting for us. I stayed in the lobby talking to the head nurse and to Don while the folks went upstairs. Mom went potty. Don went up without me and discovered Mom in the bathroom on her knees. She didn’t know how or why she got there. Don got her up on a chair, made her promise not to get up, and hunted me down. He found me on my way up the stairs and started talking from 20 feet away: “Your Mom needs to be in a rehabilitative center right away.” This from the guy who’s motive was to keep her care at WWR. Another messenger.
Don then finished up with her, and George & Sally showed up. After a while, I took Pop to another room to chat about his thoughts and feelings. He is in agreement that something big needed to happen to make things better, or he feared the worst for Mom. For himself, he thinks he’ll be okay at WWR for a few weeks while Mom is rehabilitating. I promised daily visits with him, and he also asked me to take him to visit Mom every few days. No problem.
Meanwhile, G&S were asking good questions. Mom told them she was “completely at peace” with the Clapps strategy, and not with Maryfield. She understood what we are trying to do. She also told them (and this is significant and new) that she cannot see. Mom is in the habit of reading her Bible for a couple hours every morning. Since this bucket of stuff happened, she looks at words on the page, and the words float away. This is news to me, too. But God sent the right people to get and give back this important information. They are Messengers.
The semi-private room that was available at Clapps yesterday was not available when I called them late today. We agreed to wait until early next week when beds are likely to again be available. Since this is a message about God’s hand on the situation, Medicare will pay 100% of the costs of Mom’s stay at Clapps for 20 days. The assessor (Monday) felt her rehab could be done within 20 days. If it does take longer, there will be a co-pay, but it’s not outrageous.
I’d like to finish this post all gushy and positive. God did, after all, speak to me several times today, and I deeply appreciate it. It’s better than chocolate (really, Lisa!). I know absolutely that God wants Mom at Clapps. But I do not know what happens during or after that. Mom’s cognitive skills are not (I don’t think) among the disciplines treated in rehab, and these skills are weak and possibly worsening.
But it was a good day for God, and a good day for the rest of us here. We have a plan and a purpose.
Tomorrow has many administrative tasks for me to get this ball rolling. Other tasks have also been accumulating and I will tackle them as well. I may not see M&P until later in the day. Her only known appointment is with the Speech Therapist at 3pm. Mom has pretty much stopped taking calls from her friends. But if you ask Pop directly, she will probably talk with you. As I said before, her voice will be very weak, so be in a quite room when you call.
Fred, the Preacher