Little Miss Personality: Part 2.
A still shot from an adorable video I have of Daphne* teaching me how to dance the hula right after I started my job at the ALF.
When you work in senior care, you’re usually not meeting people on their best day. No one comes looking for help until they really need it, whether that’s for Assisted Living or home health. I also never get the full story. I’ll pick up pieces from what the resident/patient says or from what the family says, and over time I can usually put together a pretty thorough back story. That’s how it was with Little Miss Personality and her family.
She lived at the Assisted Living Facility (ALF) before I started working there. Family involvement varies from resident to resident, and Daphne’s family was pretty involved. One of her daughters lived in the area, and every Tuesday she would come and visit Daphne, bring her any supplies or clothes she needed, and then take her to lunch, which was no small feat. It was always quite a production – her daughter Diane* would slowly guide her out of the facility, help her up into her car, buckle her in, fold her walker and store it in the back seat, and away they would go. The whole process took about ten minutes, and involved plenty of yelling from Daphne and sighing from Diane.
I was always impressed with Diane. She made it no secret that when she was growing up, Daphne wasn’t the best mother. Diane was very supportive and was always checking on Daphne, or bringing her supplies and new clothes, or talking with staff about how they were doing with her mom. For someone who had clearly struggled with her mom when they were younger, she really took great care of her at the end of her life.
Despite Daphne passing away at the age of 96 after allegedly abusing her daughter when she was younger and being nothing short of difficult as she got older, I don’t think Diane was ready for her to go. I got the sense that she was waiting for her relationship with her mom to come full circle; that she wanted to hear Daphne say she was sorry for how she’d treated her or acknowledge that she hadn’t been the best mom. Diane certainly had no difficulty recounting tales of her miserable childhood to the staff, but I never heard her berate or nag her mother about it. She took her out for pedicures and never acted as though she was anything less than fond of her mother.
Diane had a very difficult time adjusting Daphne’s care as she aged. Despite her mom being a premium candidate for hospice care (losing weight, lack of interest in food, requiring increased oversight/assistance, not wanting to be alone, etc), Diane was very slow to sign her onto it. I think often people see hospice as one foot in the grave, and I understand that, but it ultimately comes down to quality of life. It got to the point where the ALF could no longer provide the care Daphne was requiring, and if she had passed away without being on hospice care, the facility would have been held liable as a result of seeing the signs of decline but not taking action.
Diane also had her mom listed as ‘full code,’ which meant that if she was found not breathing, all life-saving measures were to be taken, including CPR. At Daphne’s weight, CPR would likely break her ribs and cause more damage than good, but as long as she was listed as ‘full code,’ the ALF and any paramedics who arrived on the scene would legally be required to attempt CPR. Typically, seniors select the option of ‘limited additional interventions’ or ‘comfort measures only’ so that if they’re found not breathing they might be allowed to expire in what is considered a natural way. Again, it ultimately comes down to quality of life.
I’ve seen this situation several times, and I’m sure I’ll see it again: a family member looking to repair a broken or bruised relationship, but it’s too late. Daphne was in no mental state to tell Diane what I believe she wanted to hear, and they never got a chance to reconcile a relationship that Daphne may not have realized was damaged. I think Daphne passed away on her own terms, the same way she always lived her life, and now those of us left behind have to make peace with it in on our own time. She left an imprint on my life with the way she lived hers, and in her own way, so did Diane.
Daphne reading the birthday card I wrote her.
Daphne perusing the ad section of the newspaper. This was only a matter of months after her birthday, and you can see how much weight she'd already lost.
