My life changed in October 2009 with an early morning phone call from my sister, Barbara: "Mom fell down the basement stairs. She broke her leg and is in the hospital waiting for surgery."
Mom had just turned 87, and Dad, 89, was following her down the stairs. They were going to turn off the outdoor water spigot.
Until that call, I was a relatively "big deal" at Ford Motor Company, a public relations manager responsible for promoting the company's flagship vehicle line -- F-Series trucks. That afternoon, I had a flight to San Antonio where our new Raptor was competing for a prestigious award. I was responsible for planning a major media drive event in Arizona for the upcoming launch of the 2011 Super Duty. I had interviews scheduled between engineers and national business journalists. I loved my work. With two independent and responsible teenage girls and a retired husband, I could -- and did -- throw myself into my job.
That morning, as I turned my car around on I-94 in Dearborn and headed to the Henry Ford-Macomb Hospital in Clinton Township, I recalculated my day, making minor adjustments so I could still fit it all in. I didn't know it then, but those minor adjustments were just the beginning. Within the next two years, everything about my worklife, including what I value and how I identify myself, would shift.
It culminated in a recent retirement party from my media and Ford friends with a beautiful send-off into my new life. This summer I will open BrightStar Macomb, providing in-home care to seniors so they can remain in their homes and maintain their independence as they reach the end of their lives.
Macomb County has the fastest aging population in the tri-county area, with 14 percent of the people who live here aged 65 or older. Like my parents, many have some form of mobility, sensory, cognitive and self-care limitations. In short, they need help.
After her fall, Mom had leg surgery and a heart attack. She was moved from the hospital, to a rehab facility to home, back to the hospital and a second rehab center stay. When she finally came home for good nearly two months later, she was learning how to walk without bearing weight on her broken leg. She was being treated for severe congestive heart failure (her ejection fraction now stood at 10 to 15 percent) and she was displaying some pretty worrisome signs of dementia.
A month later, January 2010, we called Season's Hospice and Palliative Care.
With no preparation, no training, no idea of what we were in for, my sisters (Rita, Barb, Theresa) and I became caregivers. We spent nights at their home. We missed work. We called on our own children and spouses to help fill in. We bathed and dressed our mother. We cooked for her, washed her clothes, urged her to take her meds. We listened and watched in silent sadness as she seemed to slip away.
We gave explicit instructions to our out-of-town siblings who came for brief stints, to give us a break -- and to say goodbye to Mom. We called anywhere and everywhere for help. The Macomb office of the Area Agency on Aging 1-B offered excellent advice and referral information.
This story takes many twists and turns as Mom is eventually dismissed from hospice and Dad is admitted. I will continue to tell the story in regular blogs here in the Macomb Daily. Meanwhile, please share your stories. I know there are many, many of us out there going through the same thing.
-- Anne Marie Gattari -- am.gattari@brightstarcare.com
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