13 May 2025
Yesterday Joyce managed to get up the stair platform three times, once more than she ever has. Counting the top step, there are four steps on the flight, making for 12 total (and 12 down, too).
Kevin had intercepted her on her way to the wheelchair, which I park by the gym door so she gets some steps in each day (and so the therapists know she's dressed and up). He cajoled her (despite her screaming, "No!") into walking a few steps more to the middle of the hall where the stair platform is.
And then she went up and down three times. It's a struggle lifting her feet that high but she does it. He complimented her effort and form.
Then she went to the gym and worked out on the Spirit Cycle until the SciFit was free.
While she was on the SciFit, Deb, who runs the Reliant therapy service there, came over to chat.
She said Joyce has been doing very well and tells me she plans to take her off physical therapy this week or next week. How do I feel about that?
I point out she still isn't using the toilet or eating. She says people often do better at home.
I suggest the real problem is dementia, which (it is understood) does not get better at home. She mentions all the therapy and nursing resources she'll have at home. Yes, she's had them all before, I remember but don't say anything.
I have the feeling we aren't talking about Joyce so much as Medicare Part B.
Sometimes I wonder what they would do for her if she lived alone. She needs a lot of care and the unspoken "deal" is that I will be assigned the job once she leaves. So I point out to Deb that I haven't recovered yet from my brain bleed and double vision.
She promised to talk to Lauren the Social Worker about the situation.
After the SciFit I weigh her (a four ounce gain after a one pound loss over the weekend) and take her back to the room because lunch is late. But when it arrives, I wheel her to the hallway and Sheik the CNA rolls the table with her food tray over to her. She doesn't eat anything (one bite of chicken, one spoonful of lemon pudding).
Cassie comes by several times and goads her on, laughing. "She’s monitoring you," I tell Joyce. To no effect.
I try to translate this to our home. How would I cook for a person who won't eat? Make one meal, give it to her, wait for her to finish her two tortellini and finish the rest myself? Or put it in the refrigerator to have all week?
It gets ridiculous quickly.
I roll her into the bathroom and help her brush her teeth. And again I wonder how this translates. She has to walk into our bathroom to brush her teeth. She has to use the stairs to wash her hair in the big sink downstairs. And even if she could do it upstairs, she'd have to stand up to do it.
She finds it very difficult to stand up. It scares her. Even though she is able to walk with the trekking pole and my support, holding her belt and opposite hand for stability, it scares her. Standing up and bending over a sink isn't something she does right now.
So physical therapy will end soon. But I hope she won't be released soon, too. And I also hope the increased dosage of Lexapro will have a noticeable effect.
Meanwhile, despite her victories like the stairs, it's important not to have any illusions about the difficulties in front of us.