May. 4th, 2012

jackscarab: (Default)
So my grandmother had another dimentia episode. It caused her to re-evaluate her living arrangements. This time next week she'll be in an assisted living place.

Everyone concerned is saying "It's about damn time," so I will too.

Imagine if you will, a blind old woman tottering about her house. She can stand and move without inordinate effort and pain, which is more than can be said of her husband of about a decade, so the bulk of manual labor about the house -- fetching the mail, answering the door -- is done by her. She, who is so short of sight that she would fumble for nearly a full minute with locating and using the key to her front door when visitors such as Meals On Wheels or her relatives would arrive. She, a very social woman whose main daily activities have gradually shrunk to migrating from bedroom to sitting room for hours of television and movies with said nigh-immobile husband.

That is the sort of situation for which assisted living exists.

She's finally taking advantage of it, which is good, since her son and daughter have been on her to seek it for years now.

When my mom told me all this over the phone, she promised with a laugh that she wouldn't put my sister or I through that sort of reluctance when she "gets of an age" to need help living.

Hopefully by then we'll have some of Japan's elderly-assistance robots.

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