#eldercare

[northgazaupdates]

UPDATE: NEW LINK! Yahya and his family were displaced by the IOF, and are currently residing in Deir al-Balah, south-central Gaza.

Life as displaced Gazans was already extremely difficult for them. Food is very scarce, and their living conditions leave them exposed to the elements. Here is the frequent condition of their tent now that the winter rains have come:

Then, Yahya’s father was injured. Some cartilage was damaged in his neck, and doctors say he requires IMMEDIATE surgery to avoid permanent paralysis.

Yahya and his family previously had another campaign, but it was suddenly shut down by GFM with no explanation. They have created a new one, but it has EXTREMELY LOW FUNDS.

The surgery is a stifling €15,000 euros (about $15,729 USD). Yahya and his family have no hope of paying for it without your help.

I am currently watching an elderly loved one lose their mobility, and it is an extremely heartbreaking and isolating situation. I cannot imagine what Yahya and his family are going through, having no social or financial support and only minimal medical care.

Please give what you can to this family. You are their only hope to save their beloved father’s mobility!

[rj-anderson]

I've just realized I never posted another update here about how we got my 93-yo mom into assisted living a couple months ago, and it is THE ABSOLUTE GREATEST STORY and I'm still just reeling with amazement over how it all came together, so here it is under the cut.

As you will know if you read my earlier posts about Mom, I've been her primary caregiver for the last few years, especially since my dad passed away in early 2020 (we were able to hold a beautiful, well attended memorial service for him right before the first lockdown, another bit of timing I am still very grateful for).

And as you will also know if you read those previous posts, Mom's mental clarity and ability to look after herself has been going downhill for the last couple years, and despite her overall sweet disposition and gratefulness for everything I was doing, by Dec. 2024 I was at my wits' end and really close to burning out. Only a blessed last-minute increase in respite care, thanks to a pilot program coordinated by my local hospital and Alzheimer's Society, enabled me to keep going while I waited and prayed for a long term care placement for Mom.

That being said, we'd already been warned that it could be up to five years before Mom got an offer, because despite her acute nerve pain attacks, chronic vertigo and increasing cognitive issues, she was not considered to be "in crisis". (I was definitely having a crisis as her caregiver, but that didn't count.) So from an outside perspective, it looked unlikely if not downright impossible that we would find a place within the next 12-18 months, unless Mom had a major health crisis.

Despite that, though, I had a strange deep-down confidence that something was going to change soon. In fact, part of me really felt sure that it would happen by spring at the latest. Now this was a bewildering feeling to have, because I am one of the least mystical woo-woo people in the world, and objectively it didn't seem likely to happen at all. So I found myself praying that God would keep me from clinging to false hopes (if they were false) and prepare me not to be discouraged or bitter if my feeling turned out to be groundless.

But I also found myself praying, "Lord, I don't how this is going to work out with Mom, but I look forward to praising you for whatever you're going to do." Because I remembered how things had gone with my Dad's care, and how the best plans I had in mind turned out to be not nearly as wise or good as the way God arranged it in the end.

Anyway, a number of things happened in December that made me question my belief that Mom would be best off in long term care, despite all the efforts I'd gone to choosing the right places for her. I took her to see the closest home on our list, thinking it would be a positive experience and put some of her fears to rest, but EVERYTHING about that tour was a disaster. It was far too big, and noisy, and overwhelming, and my mom kept saying "I could never go to a place like that, I would be totally lost. I'd rather be out on the street."

So I ended up having to take that particular home off the list, which brought our options from three down to two and made it even less likely to get a room offer. But that experience did make very clear what kind of place Mom wanted -- small, homey, quiet, and easy to navigate, with fellow residents she could talk to, and ideally some opportunity for Christian fellowship. Unfortunately, I didn't know of a single long term care home in our area that fit that description.

Until the first week of January 2025, when I joined my regular Zoom prayer meeting with three women from my old church. And as I was telling them about my difficulties, one of them said, "Oh, I wish your mom could go to the home where [a woman who also used to go to our church] is living! It would be so perfect for her!"

Now, I had heard plenty about that woman and the wonderful Mennonite assisted living home she'd moved into a few months earlier, but I never thought it could be a fit for my Mom. However, after that conversation I looked up the home's website and realized that not only was the place much closer than I'd thought it was, it sounded like they might actually be able to provide the level of care Mom needed.

I called the care home. We had a good, thorough talk about Mom's needs. I set up an appointment for a tour. And from the instant I stepped in the door, I knew this was the place our family had been praying for. Not only was it newly renovated, small, quiet and cozy, offering home-style meals and regular church services, there was a lovely vacant room with a view that immediately made me think, "This is Mom's room."

Long story short -- and skipping over a multitude of other unexpected blessings and mercies of God along the way -- we moved Mom into her new apartment in mid-February. They even allowed us to paint the room her favourite colour, and set it up with all the furniture and pictures she needed to make it feel like home, before we brought her in. And since then, she's been getting all the medical and personal care she needs, I've been able to enjoy regular visits with her while also having a life of my own again, and despite having had twelve acute pain episodes over the six months before the move, Mom has not had even one attack since she got there.

Despite all the hardships, discouragements, seeming dead ends, and other ups and downs of the past year -- even because of them, in some cases -- God has been faithful and very, very good. So I am keeping the promise I made a few months ago, when all seemed utterly hopeless, and praising Him for what He's done.

[ahedderick]

Who is this bearded hillbilly?

I had to go into a wing of the hospital recently to pick up some paperwork. I think that the whole, massive building is always going to remind me of my father's final days. I don't have any positive memories, really, to offset that difficult time; my children were born in the 'old' hospital, which has since been torn down.

I kinda saved my sanity in those ten awful days by buying a large spiral notebook. While I was in there I could make lists of things I needed to do (I knew I wouldn't remember when I got home) and also make notes on what was happening medically. It wasn't actually a journal, but looking back at those pages also brings memories back strongly.

At the one-week mark, when the doctors were still insisting that he would recover, a pleasant Dr with a lengthy Indian name was in the room talking to us. She asked him who I was (checking his mental function). He slurred "C'est ma fille." She gave me a startled look, probably thinking that was gibberish, and I gently shook his shoulder and reminded him, "No French, stick with English right now."

"Is he . . French?" she asked me, still looking startled. I told her he was not. It is, as they say . . complicated.

The bearded, nearly toothless elderly Appalachian man in the bed once spoke Spanish and French conversationally, and had more than a bit of German, as well. He studied that simply for the love of learning it. He also had some pretty strong feelings about math and chemistry. He was a farmer. He was a welder. He was an alcoholic. He was an extrovert who hated people. Complicated!!

So now I walk into that building, and I start remembering everything. It's a difficulty. And it's complicated.

[flickeredsilence]

I don’t know how to convey my grief to the people around me. I feel perpetually inarticulate, never quite able to capture the breadth of the situation.

[readersmagnet]

Eleanor Gaccetta's "One Caregiver's Journey" reflects her transition from a successful policy analyst and contractor to a full-time caregiver for her 92-year-old mother. After nearly four decades of a distinguished career, Eleanor dedicated herself to caregiving, sharing her experiences in this heartfelt memoir. Her story offers invaluable insights into the challenges and rewards of caregiving. 

Discover Ellie Gaccetta's heartfelt story in "One Caregiver's Journey." Learn about her transition from a successful career to full-time caregiver. Visit https://onecaregiversjourney.com/ and order your copy today for an inspiring read!

[billionbrilliantstars]

VP Kamala Harris knows our seniors deserve dignity and care.

[alyfoxxxen]

‘Ripple effect:’ In US, anti-immigrant policy strains child and eldercare | Business and Economy | Al Jazeera

[epocheldercare]

Meaningful engagement is at the heart of quality dementia day care. It’s not just about activities—it’s about building connection, creating purpose, and bringing joy to everyday moments. At Epoch Elder Care, we create a safe, stimulating environment where elders feel valued and engaged. Discover how thoughtful care enhances well-being:

[noon-for-moon]

Being a daughter is forgiving your father.. over and over again

Being a daughter is healing your mother's trauma.. while also healing yours

Being a daughter is carrying the heavy weight dumped onto you by your elders...

[rj-anderson]

18 Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, “Follow me!” (‭‭‭John‬ ‭21‬‬:‭18‬-‭19‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

A few weeks ago our family made the hard decision to actively pursue getting my 92-year-old mother into long term care. Her memory and problem solving abilities have taken such a sharp downturn over the past year, along with her medical needs becoming more complex, that it’s clear to everyone who knows and loves us that I can’t continue to care for Mom at home much longer without doing harm to my own health and family as well.

It’s hardest for Mom, though, because losing her ability to look after herself has been scary and the prospect of leaving her comfortable private space in our house and moving to a facility with a lot of strangers is even more scary. We all hoped that she might pass away peacefully at home and it would never come to this — but here we are having to face that a nursing home will be her future, unless the Lord intervenes to take her first.

So when I think of my mom I think of these words the Lord spoke to Peter. She’s a faithful disciple of Christ and spent her life in His service, but now it seems He is calling her to a similar trial in old age — to have someone else dress her and take her where she doesn’t want to go.

But Jesus also assured Peter that even though this kind of death was not what he naturally wanted to experience, it was the kind that would glorify God. And that’s what I pray for my mom as well. That whether she lives long enough to go to a nursing home or not, she would glorify God by her ongoing commitment to following Jesus just as Peter did. And I know that despite her natural fear and uncertainty, this is my mom’s prayer and heart’s desire as well.

We still have an unknown length of time to wait until a spot opens for mom in one of our chosen care homes — I’ve been told the waiting list in our area is up to five years. But I also know that nothing is too hard for God, so we are waiting on Him.

If you’ve prayed for me and my mom after my last post about this situation a couple months back, thank you. It means a lot.

[flickeredsilence]

Been really missing him recently. Life is starting to pick up again and I wish he could be here to experience it with me. I’m beginning to realize that I’m going to experience so much without him going forward.

[yogadaily]

(via Pin on General Info  || Curated with love by yogadaily) 

[acupofteaonthecommode]

And Then There Were Seven

We all seek healthier, more fulfilling, and productive lives, and books are an important tool for gaining knowledge about how to achieve these goals for ourselves and our loved ones. Each year, “Books for Better Living” are chosen for their unique ability to enrich readers’ lives and promote global sustainability. The Living Now Awards medalists are an exceptionally impressive list of inspiring…

[citricarehealthcareservices]

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