Two weeks ago I was not in a good place. I had to find a new place for my Mom, and I wasn’t sure where that search would lead. Emotionally, I was a mess.
After internet searches, talking to people on the phone, following up leads, more phone calls, and two days spent visiting potential new homes for Mom, I was down to three that I considered viable options. Next, the facilities had to evaluate whether they thought they were appropriate for Mom, and vice versa. I waited for phone calls to see if Mom would be ‘offered a bed’, as it’s termed.
My first choice said “No”. I appealed. They did a second evaluation and offered 30 days of ‘respite care’. Their concern was Mom’s history of hitting other residents. If the 30 days went well, they could possibly then offer a bed. Meanwhile, my second choice said they would take Mom. Decision time.
After 24 hour of concentrated thought, prayer and discussing the situation with my daughter, I opted for the second choice. They were second, not because I felt they were inferior, but because I wasn’t as familiar with the program and staff, and they are physically located a further distance away. I just couldn’t spend another 30 days in this limbo, constantly worrying that Mom would do something to get herself thrown out.
I moved Mom into her new residence on Monday, an assisted living facility that specializes in memory care. She seems to be doing well. We had to change doctors, and it’s about 40 minutes away in the next county, but that’s okay if she will be content there.
Maybe life will settle down a bit now and I can sleep again.