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10.1.17 Tinsley’s Struggle

Tinsley seemed to adjust his first week in his new home. I spent a couple of hours each evening to show my love and support for him. I showed him how I organized each drawer for his T-shirts, pajamas, and underwear. I showed him how I arranged his closet. Since Tinsley can’t carry on a conversation with much clarity, I mostly sat with him to be emotionally present. Sometimes I kept him company while we watched TV. When he needed a smile, I gave it to him. When he spoke, I nodded to affirm his attempt to make conversation. When he was ready for bed, he would lie down. I would put my chair right beside his bed and hold his hand for another thirty minutes. When he fell asleep, I headed home.

 

 

But his sweet personality changed beginning the second week of living there. 

“Why did you do this to me?!” he asked.

“I followed your doctor’s medical advice to keep you safe,” I replied. “You were in the doctor’s office with me when Dr. Booton said “It’s past time. Tinsley needs a higher level of care.”

Tinsley didn’t remember that appointment. He observed other residents with their walkers and wheelchairs. He became agitated.

“See that?!” he asked while pointing at a woman in a wheelchair. “This is just ridiculous!” I interpreted his comment to mean that because he didn’t need help with walking, he didn’t belong there.

Tinsley remained convinced that he shouldn’t be there. I began to doubt myself. Did I make the right decision for Tinsley? Did I hear God’s voice accurately? Was it the right time? When I observed the majority of residents compared to Tinsley, I have to agree with him. He looked like a misfit. Unlike the other residents, Tinsley dressed neatly and had no mobility issues. Maybe this decision was premature.

I decided to call a family meeting. They had interacted with Tinsley since Mother’s death and have seen his quick decline. They also went through this kind of decision with their own parents. They listened intently as I shared tears of pain and discouragement. After an hour of dialogue, they reassured me that Tinsley needed more care than I could ever give him at home. They shared multiple reasons to support their conviction that I have done all I am able to do for Tinsley.

But there was one person who felt it was the wrong decision, and he had no difficulty communicating that to me.

I showed up one Saturday to have supper with him. When he stepped into the dining room with me right behind him, he turned around and walked out of the dining area. I didn’t think much of it the first time. Then he would try again. He walked toward his table and saw me joining him, and he turned around and said, “No!” and walked out again.

“Tinsley, do you want me to leave?” I asked exasperated.

“YES!!!” he said angrily.

“I’m leaving now,” I said.

 

Each day that I showed up, it appeared that I was the trigger for his anger. When I arrived in the community room, he was calmly watching TV with other residents. But as soon as I hugged him and said hello, within five minutes he paced around the facility. He vented his frustrations.

“I need to get out of here,” he said. “Did you come in your car?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“I want to go home,” he said.

“This is your home,” I said.

“It is NOT!”

 

After a month went by, I decided to talk with the doctor. I expressed my concern that Tinsley seemed to have enough awareness to know what is going on.

“I need a second opinion. Did I make the right decision for Tinsley?” I asked. “For someone who has declined rapidly since my mother died, he sure seems to have clarity on what’s going on. He does NOT believe he needs to be here.”

“I have been doing this for sixteen years, and I promise you he is where he belongs,” Dr. Woodall said. “When I evaluated him, he became teary at times. He is still grieving the loss of Betty Ann. He is also deeply frustrated at his own loss of not being able to think clearly. He knows he’s confused, but can’t tag why. So there are many losses going on.”

The doctor and I agreed that I should not see Tinsley for at least a week to help him acclimate. I waited nine days because Tinsley’s sister would be in town to see him. We decided to see him together, which we hoped would be encouraging to Tinsley. Aunt Kathy brought a beautiful gift basket full of snacks Tinsley likes.

Aunt Kathy’s Snack Basket for Tinsley

Aunt Kathy and I spent two hours with him, and she experienced seeing his anger and negativity. When Tinsley said, “I don’t belong here,” she would try to reassure him that he is safe here. When Tinsley vented his frustrations, she coached him to think positively to help him make the best of his situation. Tinsley didn’t care to hear that as he looked the other way. He remained agitated and unsettled. Aunt Kathy decided to lean on a tradition that Papa Harvey had with her and Tinsley as children. While sitting on patio chairs, she grabbed our hands and invited Tinsley and I to recite the Lord’s Prayer with her. Tinsley knew it by heart and seemed to be calmer when we were done. When we left the facility, Aunt Kathy could see what I have been enduring the majority of the time I’ve been with him. As we drove back home, she said, “That is NOT Tinsley. It IS the disease speaking.”

It has been a couple of weeks since her visit, and Tinsley has not improved emotionally. In fact, I believe he has worsened. One Sunday afternoon I came to visit him and found him in the community room watching TV. When I joined him, he stood up to walk away from me. He turned around so that our eyes locked.

“NO! Do you HEAR me?!!” he said loudly. I just got there! I never know exactly what he’s trying to say, so I’m forced to read between the lines and observe body language. It was clear that he didn’t want me there. So I said goodbye and left. It was a five minute visit.

He has become physically aggressive in the last week. When a resident asked me a question and I turned to respond, Tinsley grabbed my forearm and angrily said, “No!” His reaction isn’t rational, but it is heart-breaking to experience his hostility. The doctor is working on the right balance of medication to help Tinsley deal with his anxiety and his depression.

It has been a sad time for me. It feels like I have lost Tinsley. I have been grieving the emotional loss of Tinsley more than I have been able to grieve the loss of Mother. Though the doctor assures me that “it’s the disease, not Tinsley,” it’s still hard not to take it personally. It’s hard not to wonder if I am the reason he is so unhappy and angry. How do I know when it’s Tinsley speaking or when it’s the disease? It is so HARD to tell. Many family and friends are ready and willing to help him get out and play some golf, go to the club, have lunch with the guys, as he used to do. But right now, if any of us took him out, we’d never get him back in. He’s already taken a patio chair and set it against the fence and tried to scale it. I don’t know how long it will take for Tinsley to reach acceptance that he is where he needs to be. But at this rate, it appears that it will take another month or two.

I ask you to keep praying for Tinsley and his well-being. He has already lost fifteen pounds in three weeks. He said to me, “I’ve quit trying.” He needs the Lord’s peace and comfort. Please pray that the Lord will allow us to have a healthy relationship and that he would embrace it and appreciate it. The Lord knows how to heal Tinsley’s heart. I know many of you are prayer warriors. If you’ll continue to lift him up before the Lord, He can help Tinsley’s heart rest spiritually and emotionally in His perfect peace. I also need prayer for wisdom on how often to visit him. I want to see him every day and make sure he never feels abandoned. However, that isn’t prudent given Tinsley’s emotional condition.

9.14.17 Tinsley’s Moving Day

After I signed the paperwork to admit Tinsley into a memory care facility, I faced a dilemma. Should I tell Tinsley he’s moving to a new community setting or not?

I asked Nancy, the nursing director of Arden Courts, what I should do. She advised that I not tell him, or else I will raise his anxiety and have difficulty getting him there. If you have placed a parent in a facility, you know how HARD this is. If you haven’t, I bet you can imagine how emotionally intense this transition can be. I was uprooting him from his home, which no one wants to experience. The purpose of today’s blog is to show you God’s faithfulness on Tinsley’s moving day.

Since Tinsley and I always ate lunch together after church, I decided that Sunday was the best time to take Tinsley to his new home. On Saturday, I took the packing checklist that Nancy gave me, and put clothes and toiletries together. I packed discreetly. When Tinsley went outside to mill around the house, I’d take advantage by adding clothes to the duffle bag. When he started napping, I’d add more. Once I gathered his belongings, I put them in the trunk of my car. I planned to unpack his clothes in his new room before I headed to church Sunday morning. I didn’t want Tinsley to see any luggage in the car and become alarmed on the day I planned to admit him.

I prayed that the Lord would prepare Tinsley’s heart for this big change. I asked that He would make the path smooth and keep Tinsley in His perfect peace. I asked the Lord to help Tinsley have joy and contentment in his new environment. I didn’t know what to expect, but I asked the Lord to direct every step of the way.

Sunday arrived. I unpacked Tinsley’s clothes and toiletries in his new room before I headed to church. This particular Sunday our church was having a “Party on the Plaza.” Community groups provided food for members and guests of the church between worship services. Tinsley decided he wanted to eat on the plaza right after the 9:45 worship service. I didn’t know this until my friend Ellen, who ate with him before taking him home, texted me. Now I had to trust the Lord to help us make this move. The plan was for me to pick him up for lunch, as I always do. Then we’d drive straight from the deli to his new community.

But what if he didn’t want to go to lunch? I called the marketing director at Arden Courts. I gave her a heads up that Tinsley had already had lunch! She wasn’t concerned. If I needed to admit him after having supper with him, that would be fine. As I drove to Tinsley’s house, I prayed that the Lord would work out this situation. I parked the car in the driveway and went inside. I found Tinsley watching TV.

“Are you ready to go to lunch?” I asked.

“I’ve already eaten,” he replied.

“Well, I haven’t eaten, and I’m hungry. I’m going to grab lunch and I’ll be back,” I said.

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

He offered to keep me company! I texted the marketing director to update her. I let her know I planned to admit him at 1:30. I drove to Russell’s Bakery and ordered a sandwich. While Tinsley watched me eat, I wondered what would happen next. We got in the car. Instead of driving back to the house, I got onto MoPac and headed north.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Arden Courts,” I replied.

“Okay,” he said. I drove with amazement. The Lord was protecting Tinsley. I expected him to ask “What is ‘Arden Courts?’” “Why are we going there?” But he didn’t.

As we turned onto Four Iron Drive, the Arden Courts signage appeared. I thought Tinsley would recognize that this is a facility, but he didn’t. It helped that there was nothing indicating it was a memory care facility. It also helped that the community looks more like a home. I turned into the circular drive and parked by the front door. I turned off the engine.

“Can I come in with you?” he asked.

“Of course you can,” I replied.

A couple of staff people showed up to escort us in. Tinsley and I followed a man named Bill who did an intake. He asked Tinsley if he minded sitting in a certain chair that weighs people. He then took Tinsley’s blood pressure. That’s when Tinsley started to become uncomfortable. Tinsley got up from his chair and announced, “I’m not staying here.”

“Tinsley, the professional staff will be evaluating you,” I said. “Dr. Booton expressed deep concern about your safety and your dementia, so you will be here for at least several days.” (I had asked the nursing director for help on what to say to Tinsley when this day came. What do I tell him as to why he is here?)

Tinsley let that sink in. The marketing director led us on a tour of the facility. She showed us the   community room with a large flat screen TV. We noticed the dining room area had an intimate feel to it. It was a smaller room with no more than five tables, two of which seated four people. The other tables seat two. We stepped outside into their courtyard and observed several sitting areas. The landscaper designed an inviting walkway with a soft curving path. Residents could stroll around the perimeter of the building. We noticed occasional trees that lined the walkway that helped create a peaceful environment.

I stayed with Tinsley to have supper with him. And then I spent the rest of the evening hanging out with him. We went to the community room to watch some TV. We observed the other residents and occasionally introduced ourselves. But for most of the evening, he felt like staying in his room. I made sure his toothbrush and toothpaste were sitting on top of the bathroom counter. I showed him how I arranged his closet. Tinsley loves to listen to the radio, so he turned it on while we sat together. He started to get sleepy around 9:30, so I laid out his pajamas and slipped out of his room while he changed clothes. When I came back in, I tucked him into bed, kissed his forehead, and said goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I left Arden Courts at 9:45. All I could do was thank the Lord for His amazing hand in helping me transition Tinsley to his new home.

Blessings,

Lee Ann

8.31.17 “It’s Past Time”

I called Tinsley’s physician, Dr. Booton, mid-afternoon last Tuesday. For the last two weeks, Tinsley kept pacing around the house. On the days I worked from his house, I heard bedside drawers being opened, followed by the sounds of rummaging, and then drawers slammed back into place. I found him in his master bedroom.

“How can I help, Tinsley?” I asked.

“I can’t find my razor blades,” he replied irritably.

After twenty minutes of searching together, I found an empty bank bag stuffed with razors that he stored in the armoire that sits in his living room. On other days, we went through the same process looking for his wallet or for the remote controls to TVs. The pattern of hiding things started before Mother died, especially car keys. It took too much time to search every drawer in every room, so I bought Tiles that ring when you are within 100 feet of the object. So I inserted one in his wallet and attached another to his car key ring.

TILE on Key Ring

On good days, Tinsley would turn the kitchen faucet on to fill a watering bucket for his plants and then walk away. Or he would open the refrigerator in the garage and not shut it tightly.

The nurse had already asked Tinsley to pee in a cup for a quick urinalysis before Dr. Booton saw him. After he walked in and exchanged pleasantries, he began to evaluate him. He asked Tinsley if he had been going to the bathroom more to rule out a urinary tract infection. Tinsley couldn’t answer with yes or no. Instead, he spoke unintelligible mixtures of random words or phrases. I also told Dr. Booton that Tinsley complained about not seeing well. I reported that Tinsley’s ophthalmologist had already ruled out a detaching retina and cataracts. Dr. Booton ruled out the possibility that Tinsley was having mini-strokes. He then explained that Tinsley was probably suffering from a common phenomenon that happens to Alzheimer’s patients. They lose their peripheral vision.

Dr. Booton swiveled on his roller stool. “It is past time,” he said to me.

Tinsley is in the moderate stage of Alzheimer’s disease. Mother had the same condition. When Mother was alive, she and Tinsley found a way to maintain their independence. Tinsley drove at night because Mother’s vision had changed. She maintained a structured schedule on her Yahoo calendar, and all he had to do was show up. But ever since my Mother died, Tinsley was on his own and his anxiety kept growing.

The last month has been revealing. I knew Tinsley was in a bad place when he started wandering away from the house. He used to step outside to pick up the morning paper, the mail, or to check out his yard. But that changed in the last month. Two weeks ago he wandered all the way to Mesa drive, which is a dangerous road. Our neighbor picked him up and took him home. Then a couple of weeks later, he announced to our renter upstairs at 9:30 pm one evening that he was “going somewhere.” He had his cap on and intended to walk out the door. She gently guided him to his chair in front of the TV, gave him a glass of water, and sat with him to calm him down. Then it happened again last week. He not only left the house, but he headed to his friend’s house that sits at the top of Mesa, which is a huge incline.

Looking Up Mesa Drive

It was a hot morning, and our renter followed him in her car. She kept trying to coax him to get in, but he refused. He wanted to be with his friend, Sonny. Sonny wasn’t expecting him, but he lovingly took him in and spent half a day with him.

It has always been my goal to honor Tinsley’s estate plan, which is to keep him home for as long as possible. But my biggest struggle was providing daily supervision. Since Mother died, I’ve taken care of him and made sure he had lunch and dinner. I kept him company as often as possible, including working from his house when I didn’t have client appointments. Instead of going home after work, I watched television with him so he wasn’t alone. At night, I made sure he was tucked in bed before I locked the house and headed home. During the day, I watched him enjoy three chickens that often came to our house from across the street.

Tinsley with a Hen

It didn’t take long to figure out that I couldn’t maintain this kind of schedule. Tinsley needed a consistent caregiver. While praying for guidance, a new opportunity arose. A retired lady from my church needed a place to live within 30 days, so I offered a room upstairs to rent at Tinsley’s house. She was even willing to provide meals for him periodically. She moved in on July 1st. Tinsley adjusted to her living in the house with him, and he appreciated her help on many occasions. However, none of these solutions kept him safe at all times. I could install a deadbolt lock on the front door, but Dr. Booton didn’t like that idea. He said that would increase Tinsley’s anxiety and agitation.

The feeling of failure followed. Why can’t I make it work for him to continue to stay at home, even though he lives in a state of confusion? Can’t I live with him and bring in care throughout the day so I can go to work without worrying about his safety? If Tinsley had received consistent care from one person from Helper Bees, this idea would have merit. Unfortunately, I experienced what many others experience with home health workers. They come and go often. And someone with Alzheimer’s needs a familiar face. Sadness settled in. This is a man who has unconditionally loved me from the moment he married Mother. He was always there for me and never judged me. To say “I love him so much” doesn’t get close to how deeply I respect and adore him. I want to return his love 100 times over, but moving him to a care facility doesn’t express that. It feels so wrong and unfair for someone at age 79. How do I even begin to live with myself? How could I do this to him?

I found Arden Courts, a memory care community, which gave me peace. He’s right down the street from Balcones Country Club, and the community is smaller and more intimate. They have four wings with fifteen rooms in each. Each wing has its own kitchen, community room, and a lovely outside walk area. They have a couple of activity rooms in the main area of the building. He is only twelve minutes from my house and fifteen minutes from my office. I can see him easily every day. After signing paperwork, I drove to his house. I found him in the bathroom trying to shave his face without shaving cream.

I knew it was past time.

 

Blessings,

Lee Ann

5.21.17 I Peter 3:10-12

Download Lesson: 5.21.17 Class Notes – I Pet 3.10-12

LOOK:

A “good day” for the believer who “loves life” is not one in which he is pampered and sheltered, but one in which he experiences God’s help and blessing because of life’s problems and trials. It is a day in which he magnifies the Lord (Ps. 34:1–3), experiences answers to prayer (Ps. 34:4–7), tastes the goodness of God (Ps. 34:8), and senses the nearness of God (Ps. 34:18).

The next time you think you are having a “bad day,” and you hate life, read Psalm 34 and you may discover you are really having a “good day” to the glory of God!

5.22.17 Betty Ann Penick’s Memorial Service

A Video Blog

As most of you know, my sweet Mother, Betty Ann Penick, passed away May 5th.

Betty Ann and Tinsley Penick

We hired a videographer to record her memorial service held May 12, 2017. I have provided the link to this 38-minute celebration of her life for those who couldn’t attend:

Though I will continue to grieve my loss, I find comfort knowing I will see her again for eternity. In the meantime, I will cherish the many beautiful memories of her and the legacy of love she demonstrated to me.

Blessings,

Lee Ann