When my husband, Dennis, was first diagnosed as being in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease, I was told to expect that he would gradually have more difficulty planning and initiating a healthy variety of activities, but that it would help his emotional health and mental abilities to interact with other people. Knowing this prompted me to take the initiative when it came to planning things we could do together, and to suggest things he could do on his own or with friends and family.
Almost everyone wants to “age in place,” or in their own homes. They also typically say that they don’t want to be a burden on their children, and yet they insist that they not be moved to one of their homes or to an assisted living facility.
When my father passed away from aspirational pneumonia at age 97, we were able to let him go peacefully, without hospitalization or any medication other than for comfort care. This is because we had a POLST (Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment) agreement, previously signed by him, me, and his physician specifying that those were his wishes. Dad had endured hospitalization for aspirational pneumonia and the rehab that followed it seven times. His doctor knew that it would reoccur and most likely be his cause of death. Dad had no desire to go through all of that again.
I’ve been fortunate recently to do some writing for a very cool project known as MyHometown. It’s a program that targets aging and under-loved neighborhoods with the objective of breathing new life into them so families will want to move in, stay and contribute to a thriving community.
“You are what you eat” is often said or written as a reminder that if we aren’t careful about what we eat at least part of us will become something we don’t want to be, e.g. fat, skinny, unhealthy, or a danger to the planet. As I look at the many books in my house that I’ve read and loved over my lifetime, I often say to myself and sometimes to others, “You are what you read.” Those books feel like they are an important part of who I am, so much so that to give them away would be like losing part of myself.