Since last I wrote, a lot has changed. About a month ago, I put Gary in a nursing home. I'd say it's the hardest decision I ever had to make, but frankly, I didn't have much choice. Unfortunately, I didn't have much choice in placement either. His Lewy Body diagnosis makes him an undesirable candidate so only one nursing home locally would accept him.
I was unprepared for the cost - financial and emotional. Financially - well, you can't really put a price on getting a loved one appropriate care and emotionally - well, I thought I'd feel better knowing he was in a place that could provide care I couldn't. Unfortunately, what passes for care is shameful.
Because he had his pillowcase from home, after 3 weeks, I was stuck with the realization that they hadn't changed his pillowcase. In 3 weeks. I don't know if they changed his sheets.
When he had the same shirt on for 3 days, I asked him when the last time he was bathed. He told me he was bathed that day. When I asked why they put a dirty shirt on him after bathing, he told me they didn't take his shirt off when they bathed him.
Today, I asked them when they were going to repair the toilet in his room. For the 3rd time. As always, they acted like it's the first time they were hearing about it. Meanwhile, 2 weeks ago, someone urinated in the broken toilet and it's been laying there festering ever since.
And 2 days ago, he told me they hadn't brushed his teeth yet. Since he's been there. Not once. I'm told it was just a misunderstanding - no one had put in his care plan that he needed to have his teeth brushed. And no one there was apparently able to figure out that the bedridden man wasn't about to get up and get himself a toothbrush.
And this is what passes for care. Care for the elderly and disabled that nobody else wants. It's a damned dirty shame. Emphasis on dirty.
Or maybe shame.
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