“… Don’t forget she’s in one piece and they aren’t you.” My daughter said to me in a text message after we had collected Cheryl from the place she stayed for a week while I went to visit my sister in Portland Oregon. (Great trip. Beautiful weather. Decent gin. Excellent wine. We never felt the need or desire to turn on the TV.)

A big part of this was a trial for me (and Cheryl). How would I feel about getting Cheryl into a 24/7 care situation? The place where she stayed in respite is a new memory care place. It is locally owned but not directly associated with any medical institution and not part of a bigger chain or group. How would Cheryl do there? It is a secure facility. Electronic locks on everything including the elevator. They do not let the visitors have a pass to the front exit door. You can be escorted by the nurse or knock loudly and the lobby receptionist will let you out. It is a memory care place. People can wander off at home but not there. That is not Cheryl’s problem.

Cheryl’s problems are numerous: dementia, memory loss, occasional confusion about space and time, Parkinson mobility issues, eating issues, hydration issues, yadda, yadda, yadda. Our life has been taken over by the evil Parkinson.

My thoughts are numerous. How would I feel about settling her in a place away from me? Would she get the same kind of undivided attention that I give her? Would she become angry with aides like she does with me occasionally? Meds and their schedule of delivery is paramount to a parkie. Would I want to micromanage the healthcare aides? Would the aides be pushy and encourage her to eat and drink like I do? Would I feel the need to be there every minute of every day? I have my eye on Bridgeway Pointe which is a place where my mother and her mother stayed toward the end of their lives. Is that the right place for her? Can they provide services for her? How to afford it?

Meditating and thinking about it is tiring.

Carpe Diem.