(no subject)
Word of the day: Sundowning. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sundowning
Had a frank conversation in the light of day with the management at Sunbury. (Last night's incident all went down between 10 PM and 2 AM. Information was… incomplete, at best.) With luck she'll have a proper psychiatric screening and a route to treatment this week. With a lot of luck she'll be able to move back into Sunbury and settle there, with the help of knowledge and medication. I don't know how much more luck is in the bucket right now.
Even though during the day she's more lucid in phone calls than she has been in years, at night she wanders the halls in utter confusion, unaware of where she is or why. She asks where her husband is, and wonders why she brought the cat into a strange vacation home with her. She never recognizes any of the caregivers, managers or neighbors she's been seeing every day for over a week now, though she acts friendly towards all.
Last night she was discovered by another resident sitting in the hallway with her head bloodied, telling a story about chasing her cat around the building. She didn't know where her apartment was, though her door was just yards away and wide open. Her bedroom contained some knocked-over furniture, and more blood. The cat was sitting on the bed (and I'm told it never leaves her apartment anyway).
"I don't think this is going to work out," the manager told me.
They'll let her check back in after the hospital's done with her, and they say they've had other residents with rough starts who managed to settle, with help. But in her current condition, she can't stay. The hospital's set her up with a busy day today of evaluation, so all I can do is wait to hear more. I've asked the home's caregivers to make sure the cat's bowls are full.
I've told the hospital about the complicating factor of tomorrow's funeral (90 minutes away from her current location -- actually closer to two hours, at the speed that Ricky drives), but made it clear that her health comes before ceremony. We will make a separate trip to visit dad's grave later with her, if we have to. It's too late to reschedule the funeral at this point. Frankly I have to wonder if this injury is self-inflicted somehow; she's been insisting for days (when the sun is up) that she doesn't want to go.
They are aware of the complicating factor of my great distance. I have yet to tell them of the complicating factor of Ricky. Or to tell Ricky about any of this, but I have to, lest he try to visit the home and find out that way. I'll call him now.
I'm going to have to tell clients that I'm getting literally zero work done in May, and I really don't know when I'll be able to return. I still hope to go to Austin for a Perl conference next week.
Had a frank conversation in the light of day with the management at Sunbury. (Last night's incident all went down between 10 PM and 2 AM. Information was… incomplete, at best.) With luck she'll have a proper psychiatric screening and a route to treatment this week. With a lot of luck she'll be able to move back into Sunbury and settle there, with the help of knowledge and medication. I don't know how much more luck is in the bucket right now.
Even though during the day she's more lucid in phone calls than she has been in years, at night she wanders the halls in utter confusion, unaware of where she is or why. She asks where her husband is, and wonders why she brought the cat into a strange vacation home with her. She never recognizes any of the caregivers, managers or neighbors she's been seeing every day for over a week now, though she acts friendly towards all.
Last night she was discovered by another resident sitting in the hallway with her head bloodied, telling a story about chasing her cat around the building. She didn't know where her apartment was, though her door was just yards away and wide open. Her bedroom contained some knocked-over furniture, and more blood. The cat was sitting on the bed (and I'm told it never leaves her apartment anyway).
"I don't think this is going to work out," the manager told me.
They'll let her check back in after the hospital's done with her, and they say they've had other residents with rough starts who managed to settle, with help. But in her current condition, she can't stay. The hospital's set her up with a busy day today of evaluation, so all I can do is wait to hear more. I've asked the home's caregivers to make sure the cat's bowls are full.
I've told the hospital about the complicating factor of tomorrow's funeral (90 minutes away from her current location -- actually closer to two hours, at the speed that Ricky drives), but made it clear that her health comes before ceremony. We will make a separate trip to visit dad's grave later with her, if we have to. It's too late to reschedule the funeral at this point. Frankly I have to wonder if this injury is self-inflicted somehow; she's been insisting for days (when the sun is up) that she doesn't want to go.
They are aware of the complicating factor of my great distance. I have yet to tell them of the complicating factor of Ricky. Or to tell Ricky about any of this, but I have to, lest he try to visit the home and find out that way. I'll call him now.
I'm going to have to tell clients that I'm getting literally zero work done in May, and I really don't know when I'll be able to return. I still hope to go to Austin for a Perl conference next week.