Time to Ask for Help

Two years ago, when Mom was in rehab, I began to look around for help.

Despite his insistence to the contrary, Dad, 89, could no longer stay alone. He was a diabetic on coumadin and had taken a recent fall. Trying to get himself up, he scraped his arm on the carpet and tore his paper-thin skin. He bleed through many bandages before he agreed to be seen. 

As I went through the list of local in-home care providers that I had received from the Macomb office of the Area Agency on Aging, I didn't find immediate help, but was often glad just to hear an understanding and knowledgeable voice on the other end of the line.

It wasn't easy, but eventually we convinced Dad to sign up for care. The agency we settled on sent Mike, an experienced  man in his 40s who had taken care of his own father. Mike was a perfect fit. He won Dad over by raving about the 1994 Lincoln Towncar in the garage. Mike sealed the deal when he proved he was good with a wrench. 

For years, my sisters and brothers had tried to get Dad to let us move the washer and dryer from the basement to the first floor laundry room. He refused, saying that we "wouldn't do the job right." But early one Saturday morning in late October, while Mom was still in rehab, Dad said yes to Mike.

For the next several months, Mike was Dad's companion. He fixed a leaky faucet and ran the vacuum. He cooked breakfast and reconnected a wire from the TV to Dad's headphones near his recliner. Gradually, he got Dad to succumb to his help with personal things like pulling up his socks and stepping in and out of the shower -- things that were becoming increasingly more difficult that he kept from us girls.

The value of this kind of care is hard to put a price on. Not only did Dad get good personal care, he had a companion, he made a friend. Mike showed Dad that having help made him no less of a man. 

Earlier that year, I ducked out of work in the late morning to take Dad to a doctor's appointment. Sensing that I was rushed, he said to me in the car: "We're really getting to be a pain in the ass, aren't we?" At the time, I just wanted to get him to the appointment and back home so I could return to work. I let pass an opportunity to discuss the inevitable.

Mike not only helped Dad. He helped us all. The guilt of not being there to make a meal. Gone. Not being there to watch TV with him in the evenings. Gone.

In-home care is not covered by Medicare. And my folks lived on Social Security and a little help from my siblings and me. 

Through my late-night clicking (of the mouse), I came across the Mt. Clemens law firm of Simasko, Simasko & Simasko, which called themselves specialists in elder law, estate planning, Medicaid and VA benefits (www.simaskolaw.com). Rick Lemanski, the VA benefits expert in the office, suggested that Dad would likely qualify for a VA benefit called Aid and Attendance. If he did, he'd receive the maximum benefit -- $1,949 a month for his time in WWII.

Rick navigated the VA bureaucracy for us. I delivered the pertinent documents and Rick did the rest. Two months later, the extra money was coming in.

There are many community resources to help those of us "sandwiched" between elderly parents and our own families. Sifting through it all can take as much energy and can be as stressful as providing the actual care. But don't give up. I'll help you find the right specialist. Meanwhile, it's important to remember: you're not alone.


-- Anne Marie Gattari -- am.gattari@brightstarcare.com