No, really, its been 4 months, but who is counting.
This summer truly has brought some of the most difficult months of my life. I should preface this with a little family history. My grandmother has Alzheimer's disease, and has been on the decline for the past 10 years- particularly the past 2 years. She re-married when I was 15 years old to a Baptist preacher, who, while at times extremely arrogant and difficult, brought her so much contentment in her last years, and to whom I am extremely thankful.
Early onset Alzheimer's is a disease that is exceedingly genetic- and while he has not be point blank diagnosed (there is no true diagnosis until after death in autopsy of the brain), we are very certain that my father is headed down the same path. Every time I go a few weeks without seeing my father, I unfortunately can tell a marked difference in his memory and emotional health. All of this said made what occurred with my grandmother's death an extremely difficult and trying time in my family.
3 weeks later, Happy took a fall and broke her hip. Her husband, 100 year old MO, was out of town and so an emergent decision had to be made- give Happy a chance of walking again, or condemn her to a life spent in bed, unable to walk. (surgery in an ALZ patient of Happy's age 8 times out of 10 ends in death or results worse than the initial injury). My father had to make that choice, and for those who know him, this was a choice that was extremely difficult for him.
The decision was made, given the pros and cons of surgery, to go ahead and attempt to repair Happy's hip. Those in the medical field know that a broken hip in the elderly is often a death sentence- and knowing the statistics I flew home to await my grandmother post-surgery.
While her mind had been ailing her for years, Happy's body remained strong and she did fabulously on the operating table despite her atrial fibrillation and tendency for transichemic attacks in her brain. Thrilled for this news, I attempted to prepare my family for what was certain to be the hard part- rehabilitating an Alzheimer's patient- a demanding task I am no stranger to. What I was completely unprepared for, however; was how strenuous this already difficult job would become when the patient was someone you love dearly.
An elderly body does not take well to general anesthesia- on my unit we take that and assume our elderly surgery patients are more than likely going to be difficult for the first hours post-op. Combine that with end-stage Alzheimer's, and you've got yourself quite the perfect storm. My sweet, lady like grandmother came out of that surgery suite a totally different individual, never to return outwardly to the loving sweet woman we all loved being with on her 90th birthday.
That first night, I opted to stay the night with her, a decision that I am so happy I made. That night was one of the hardest of my life- neither of us got a wink of sleep, and I was constantly over my dear grandmother attempting to keep her from pulling on her various tubes or picking at her incision. I can not even begin to count the times I calmly explained to Happy where we were, why we were there, and who I was. It will always amaze me how strong she was that night; it at times took me plus 2 nurses to keep her in the bed.
But at 4:30 that morning, after a particularly difficult episode, Happy's clouded eyes cleared and she looked me in the eyes and gave me that smile I so loved. She said "Leighley, I love you so much, and am so proud of you, sweet girl. Thank you so much for staying with me. I know my disease makes things difficult, and I want you to know that I am here and I appreciate and love you. Thank you for being here..." and her voice trailed off, her eyes clouded back over. That was the last time my grandmother knew who I was, but I will be forever thankful for that moment. In my mind, that was our good bye, and I cherish that opportunity to hear her so clearly that last time.
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