Taking Care of Mom and Dad

Bombs Falling

My parents lived an amazing life.  From the beginning,  they were an unlikely pair. Mom was a Londoner born and bred, who lost her fiancé to the Battle of Britain flying Spitfire fighter planes.  Her grief evolved into a desire to join the fight, and she became part of the Churchill’s irregular spy service, the Special Operations Executive.  Dad was from Cincinnati, with a degree in finance from the University there.  He became a finance officer in the US Army, and was sent to England to pay the troops.  

Their relationship began literally as the bombs fell on London during World War II.  They met on a blind date (after Mom secretly had Dad “vetted”) at a restaurant called the Queens Brasserie, and, by their telling, immediately fell in love.  They married more than a year later, two months before D-Day, then separated for another year to fight the war.  After, Mom came with Dad to America and Cincinnati.

Retirement Life

Dad knew finance and was the ultimate salesman, selling syndicated television shows across the nation.  He and Mom were a team in the business, and a team in raising three kids and taking care of their home.  When Dad finally retired, they looked forward to travelling the world.  And they did, from safaris in Africa, to Dad’s “famous” video on top of the Great Wall of China. (He got the on and off button on his video camera confused – so when he was videoing it was off, and when it was hanging from his shoulder, it was on.  The result could have been titled, “Chinese Bottoms on Top of the Great Wall”.)

They found a condo to buy in Florida; Sea Oaks on the Atlantic just north of Vero Beach.  It was a tennis “club” where Dad could find a daily game with a group of older gentlemen called “The Walking Wounded”.  The ocean was just 100 yards away, and Mom would walk miles on the beach most days.  Mom and Dad were social,  and always found a group of friends that often became more than friends, more like family.  They had that group in Cincinnati, and soon had a group at Sea Oaks as well.

Health

Dad had some health issues:  the inherited coronary artery disease that led to two different bypass surgeries, one when Dad was in his late sixties, and a second in his seventies.  The second surgery caused a stroke, and while he kept most of his physical capacities, Dad lost a portion of memory.  Mom stayed in great health, and the two of them continued their amazing life through their eighties.

It wasn’t until they turned ninety in 2008, that their health began to impact their day to day life.  Dad was driving in Vero Beach, and all of a sudden, couldn’t remember how to get home.  Mom was handling the bills, but it got confusing with bills from Cincinnati or Florida arriving late, forwarded from one address to another.  

And she had serious breathing problems, suffering from pulmonary fibrosis, a hardening of the lungs.  She was on oxygen in ever increasing amounts.  Dad valiantly tried to take care of her.  But the oxygen bottles were awkward, and required tiny washers placed in the connections.  It was tough for me to do, thirty-eight years younger, so I know Dad really struggled to make them work.

RV’ing To Florida

 By 2010 I was doing what a lot of children do for their parents, taking care of the “books”.  Part of that was trying to track the increasing number of Medicare bills for both of them.  Other than the thousands of dollars in prescription drugs they spent each year, Medicare and their supplemental insurances covered almost all of the bills.  Helping them was a family affair:  my sisters and their spouses were all deeply involved.  And when I fell in love with Jenn, she became part of the process as well. 

After Christmas of 2010, Mom and Dad were determined to get to Florida.  Mom needed oxygen for the plane, and airlines stopped carrying oxygen “on board” after the fatal ValuJet crash.  They still allowed oxygen concentrators, but Mom’s small unit couldn’t supply enough for the flight.  So we rented a bigger unit, carry-on suitcase size.  Delta was kind enough to seat us in First Class – and we made it to Sea Oaks.

But it was the last year.  My nephew Chris stayed with them and helped.  And by the spring, even that machine wasn’t enough to get her home.  Mom also suffered from back deterioration causing constant pain and needed a medical procedure.  Florida doctors wouldn’t do it, but she could come back to Cincinnati to get it done.  

A jet-ambulance was crazy expensive and “not covered” by any insurance.  So we rented an RV, and my brother-in-law, Jenn and I drove it down to pick Mom and Dad up and bring them home.  The RV generator would run the “big” oxygen machine Mom needed.  Fueled by Mountain Dew and Classic Rock, we drove all night to Florida, picked them up, and started for Cincinnati.  She wasn’t happy about it – I think Mom knew that she was saying goodbye to Sea Oaks for the last time.  That was in April of 2011.

The Last Summer

Things got only a little better at home.  Mom had the back procedure, and that did stop the excruciating constant pain.  But  Mom was constantly low on oxygen, even on the machine,  and it changed her personality.  She was often angry, and quietly scared.  It was impossible for Dad to keep care of her, and he was having his own difficulties.  Mom went into the hospital in June, and we thought that would be the end. 

But she was tough, and not ready to quit.  So when the hospital released her to a rehab facility, we knew they had to move out of their three story home of forty years.  We found a nice two bedroom apartment in a “step” facility, with assistance available.  But I don’t think she ever forgave us for moving them.  She lived there until the end of September, when her lungs just wouldn’t work anymore.  Mom went, as my niece put it, on her “final mission” on October 5th. She was ninety-three.

Dad lived on for another five years.  We moved him to Cleveland so that my oldest sister could supervise his medical care.  And he had a series of strokes that took away much of his memory, but also made him the sweetest man in the world.  There were still monthly bills, the condo in Florida and house in Cincinnati to close and sell,  and as the end approached in 2016, preparation for his final estate.  He passed on July 22nd 2016, two days before his 98th birthday.

Reminders

So what brought all these memories up?  

I turned sixty-five in September and signed up for Medicare Part B.  A month ago, I was doing something stupid, and jammed a pair of scissors into my hand.  It took four stitches to close the wound, and hopefully the feeling and function will return in my right index finger soon.  It was my first claim on Medicare.

And here I am, a month later, looking at the exact same “CMS Medicare – Explanation of Benefits” form, the ones that I still have stacks of on file for Mom and Dad.  But now, that form has my name on it.  

Approaching “old age” seems to be a process, rather than a crash.  It starts when the kids at the counter automatically give you the “senior” discount.  It continues as folks start talking louder to you, and the neighbors “check” on you when bad weather hits.  I was doing that, just last year.  And then there’s the great “sign-up” for Medicare, the rite of passage into senior citizenship.  No wonder “seniors” sound confused, Medicare is a confusing process.

But all of that didn’t really make as big a dent on me, as receiving that “Explanation” did yesterday.  If we’re lucky, like my parents, Jenn and I will have another thirty years to figure it out.

Want to learn more about Mom and Dad? Here’s a link to “all about them” – The Dahlman Papers