My back is aching again, after a long afternoon and evening of being my mom’s primary caretaker. I’m a little too old for this, I think. I can’t keep up with the physical demands of a personal care aid with medication-dispensing responsibilities thrown in for good measure. I’ve figured out how to put on a blood pressure cuff, so a machine can read my mother’s blood pressure and heart rate. I dispense medication which, thank God, I don’t have to sort out every week into a set of pill containers. I apply and remove pain and nitro patches and change wound dressings. I’m a pro with disposable rubber gloves and I don’t even want to say what I need them for.
My mother’s taking at least 10 different medications, especially for her blood pressure which is quite high in the morning, although it tapers off when the meds kick in. Without them she’d probably have a stroke. She also has bouts of senile dementia when she’s institutionalized (hospital or nursing home), although that clears up rather quickly once she’s home. Put her in a nursing home and you may as well just bury her. So, we’re trying to keep her home.
My sister has spent the last six months jumping through hoops to qualify my parents for Medicaid. This is the US government health insurance program designed for the poor. Unfortunately, longer life spans means that many elders – my parents for example – end up spending down their savings paying for health care and basic living expenses. Thus, my mother at 86 and my father at 91 basically have no more money for long-term elder care.
My brother and sister (and now me) have racked up some hefty bills, which we’re hoping the Medicaid program will reimburse. Once the massive amounts of of paperwork have been hauled off and filed, we should be able to start with round-the-clock assistance that won’t come out of my back or my pocket.
I’m absolutely appalled at what Medicaid puts you though to qualify for assistance. Some people end up having to wait for up to a year and even then make endless rounds of phone calls to various agencies and private contractors just to keep things moving along.
Then there’s the stuff that each person is allowed to do. A health care aide can’t handle medication of any kind (prescription or over-the-counter). They can’t even put protein powder into a beverage or item to eat. An aide can help a person ambulate, move from a sitting to a standing to a laying position. That person can also wash and dress a person. My mother needs that, plus four rounds of pills a day, in addition to other meds she takes separately. She needs her blood pressure taken 2 – 3 times a day. She has three or four different types of eye drops, since she recently underwent corneal transplants to correct her vision. Oh, and the aide can talk to the person, to keep them mentally active.
Oh, but here’s the best one: an aide cannot assist a person if they have fallen to the floor, or have been laid onto the floor by that aide. My mother has suffered a number of falls in the last few months. She gets dizzy and faints then…CRASH! It’s off to the hospital, the nursing home and a pile of misery, for us and especially for her.
It’s difficult for me to see my mother in pain. She’s recovering from a vertebrae fracture in her lower back and is in constant discomfort. It’s improving, but it’s pretty sore most of the time now. In-home physical and occupational therapy, which we do receive via private insurance (I think…) leave her weak and exhausted. It’s important to her recovery, though.
So, here’s a question: how do other countries deal with long-term elder care? What about you, Australian readers? Any Brits out there? Canadians? Folks from Europe? Great Britain? I’m very curious to know what other countries besides the US do to make sure their senior citizens live long and healthy lives without bankrupting themselves and/or their children.