A Rough Patch

I won't lie. The last few months have been a very rough patch for us. Sundowning became intense, started earlier and earlier, and lasted longer and longer. As confusion led to agitation and agitation sometimes led to aggression, and with sleep also being at a premium, I was exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Ready to throw in the towel, I began to research placement options in earnest so as to be ready rather than desperate.

My husband is a veteran, and so I had already checked with the "local" (an hour away) California Veterans Home. It is beautifully situated in the Wine Country, but I did not like the housing units I was shown on the tour at all. It isn't just that they weren't renovated and that the restroom was way down the hall. I have a sensitive nose, and we'll leave it at that. Maybe I was just shown the wrong housing unit! So when I was told by the placement officer to basically forget it because nobody had come off the very long "wait list" in the three years she had worked there, I wasn't all that disappointed.

Instead, I placed my husband on the "wait list" for the Veterans Home in his home town, a beautiful and new facility three hours' drive from our present home. The wait is expected to be three to five years there. Cost for his level of care will apparently be 70% of our income, and the state will come back against remaining assets at end of life. This is very much like MediCal or whatever state program might be in place in your area, except you don't have to be destitute (yet) to qualify. It used to be that the monthly cost was $2000 or the veteran's Social Security check, whichever was less. Not so now (although for single vets whose only income is Social Security, it's a viable option), nor is there a payment cap. I include this information only because, well, you might be wondering for your own reasons.

So I started researching "private pay" options locally and planned to place my husband in a memory care facility after the holidays, all the while continuing research for a more affordable option, if any. This means we may in all probability be forced to run through our savings and investments up front, but our remaining assets, if any are left at end of life, will hopefully be unencumbered. It is a rock and a hard place. It also is what it is.

However, miraculously, a change in medication and subsequent adjustments in dosage have helped his sleep pattern a bit and kept him calmer. I've also arranged for more hours from our caregiver. For now, what's left of my sanity is being preserved. Or maybe I'm just learning to handle things better. We still have hairy moments, of course, but for the time being I'm getting at least some rest and feel more at peace.

I am not under any illusions. Every one of these plateaus has been followed by a steep decline, and there's no rhyme or reason to it. But it's good to feel as though I have a small reprieve. Even if it's only for a month or two. Or a week or two. Or a day or two.

Meanwhile, the search continues.