BARRY’S JOURNEY No. 16
More moves for Barry
In my last post, I reported that Barry had been moved back and forth to hospitals and care facilities that didn’t want to or couldn’t take care of him. The saga included a two-week stay at Unity Hospital geriatric psychiatry unit where they amended his medications so Barry would be less agitated. But he lasted only an hour-and-a-half when sent back to his care center until he was once again transferred to Methodist Hospital, which already said they did not take dementia patients. That same day, he was then transferred back to Unity Hospital. More money was being spent on needless moves back and forth.
Dealing with over-stimulation
After a few more days, Unity Hospital sent him back to his care center. He is really drugged-up and spends half his day asleep, but he is not swearing and pacing as much. I have to say that his care center now has worked really hard to figure out the best room for Barry. We all decided the Alzheimer unit was not a good place for him. It is too loud and there are too many people milling about. The staff and I noticed that Barry starts swearing and getting upset when there is too much going on. Even having a roommate didn’t work out. The wonderful social worker at the care center found a loophole in his medical assistance coverage that says if bad behavior results from having a roommate, the plan will pay for a private room.
Because Barry had been pushing a button to open a door and escape the unit, the staff taped a box over the button. All he needs to do is reach under the box to push the button, but Barry can’t figure it out, so he is now confined to this unit. I got his TV working and all his skinny clothes hung in the closet of his new room. (He has lost a lot of weight.) For now, we are in a holding pattern. I can’t help worrying about what’s next. I do know the care center is working with Barry and me to keep him comfortable and more relaxed. Although he is pretty drugged-up to calm his agitation, a few days ago he looked up at me from his chair and said, “You are trying hard to take care of me aren’t you?” I said, “Yes I am!”
This very simple conversation meant the world to me!