I am spending a lot of time thinking about my mother-in-law. She was a kind, sweet, funny and charming woman. Everyone loved her, wherever she went. I was so very lucky to have her as a mother-in-law and friend for over 28 years. When we had to look for assisted living for her two years ago, I was less worried about her adjusting to a new home, as I was about her burning down her current apartment and everyone in the building. She left the stove on unattended one too many times, to the point where the fire department probably looked at the address and sighed, “O, Marie…..”. As a veteran of researching assisted living and nursing home facilities, I knew she would be loved and appreciated if we chose the right place. So after we narrowed it down to two places, we took her on a ride to see them and have some input herself.

On some level, we realized we had probably waited just a tad bit too long to engage in this search and move, but we were trying our very best not to subject her to change, as I knew the elderly just don’t do change very well. But it was just too painfully obvious from her losing weight, only having coffee for most of her meals, and a refrigerator full of food that we often had to throw away, that she was no longer safe, healthy or cared for properly.

So we found two really nice places, and took her for a look see. At the first place, Keystone Villa, we were warmly greeted by Donna, the marketing lady. She took great care to talk to and look at Marie. You have no idea how much credence I put on that. I am so sick and tired of the elderly being summarily dismissed without LITERALLY so much as a , “how do you do?” Donna asked Marie about her interests and her hobbies, and we began to move onto the tour. It’s a lovely facility. With lots of glass looking out on a busy highway on one side and a nature trail on the other. This gives the residents much to look at while dining, reading the paper, or ‘hanging out’ in the lounges. It’s supremely clean and smells good. A BIG PLUS!

So as we continue the tour, Marie is very positive and seems to like what she sees. I notice that a bad smell starts to creep around, and I think, “Oh well, they probably have to keep up with that challenge.” We continue on, up the elevator, into a few of the available rooms, and find a charming room overlooking the fountain and nature trail next to the nurses room and the near the elevator. It is very similar to her apartment in it’s proximity to the elevator and we think this will be reassuring and a memory issue that will help with transition.

But that smell is following us. And now I’m a little dubious because I was sure they had that under control. I ask my mother-in-law if she needs to go to the bathroom. In fact, I’ve already asked her that about three times. But she insists that…no….she doesn’t and she’s perfectly fine. So we finish the tour, the smell is getting stronger and following us everywhere now. But since we are done, it is a point that we will be discussing later.

My dear sweet mother-in-law takes a seat in the lobby, and we go into the office for a few minutes to fill out some paperwork. When I come out to see if she’s ready to go, I look down at her feet, and there is brown ooze coming out of her trousers onto her shoes. Really. I’m not kidding. And I feel so bad for her, because she is still completely  oblivious to this. So I take her in the bathroom, which thank God, is huge and has PAPER TOWELS, not just one of those air drying things, because I’m pretty sure I can’t hold her up there to dry off her butt like Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom. I stage whisper to my husband in the lobby to ask the desk clerk for some Depends and maybe a wash cloth. I help her remove her trousers and underwear which are covered like a baby who ate prunes, and I just start cleaning her up with a TON of paper towels. One of the aides appears with Depends, wipes and more  paper towels and asks if there’s anything else I need. I ask for a plastic bag for her soiled clothing, which appears promptly.

Thank God it’s winter, because Marie has a winter coat with her that she was not wearing at the time. It’s what we lovingly refer to as a ‘car coat’. It goes to about right above the knee, so you can get in and out of the car comfortably. So we gently put on the Depends, all the while reassuring her that it’s ok, no harm, no foul (ok it’s pretty foul); yell out the door to my husband to go pull up the car to the front door, so we can high tail it out of there without too much fanfare, and put on the car coat. So now Grandma has a pretty silk scarf, a nice wool coat, and sneakers (which I also washed), and bare legs. And damn, if she didn’t look adorable, like she was wearing a mini-skirt just one last time, and BAM….looking good Grandma…..you got great gams!

You just have to laugh……..

Cathy Sikorski