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POWERED BY THE BRANDYWINE CENTER OF EXCELLENCE ISSUE 40 | SPRING 2019
NEWS & NOTES ALL AROUND BRANDYWINE From the desk of... Brenda Bacon
I had an experience two weeks ago that I have never had before... and I continue to think of what it taught me. Some of you know that my 90-yearold mother-in-law lives with us. She has six children. I married her second oldest 46 years ago.
Ten years ago we installed one of those chair lifts in her Philadelphia row house. About seven years ago, the frequent falling (without injury) started to happen. Five years ago in a series of “just stay over for a long weekend because it’s so-andso’s birthday, graduation, Mother’s Day, Thanksgiving, etc.,”...or “we are just too tired to drive you back to Philadelphia”... we were able to get her to permanently move in with us. Pretty soon we had her all settled in a first floor bedroom (no steps), with her own bath and with lots of interaction with us, her children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. My MIL has a big personality and her laugh can be heard throughout the house. We have made accommodations to her space and have had to make a few accommodations to our schedules, but not much. Then, before sunrise on Friday morning three weeks ago, her son, Tony, died surrounded by family. Tony had had many health challenges in his life, so he and his mother were especially close. Losing a child at any age is catastrophic. Telling a 90-year old her son had passed... that is never easy. We spent lots of time trying to figure out how to make it as easy as possible. Then we realized there was no such thing. The next three days, our house was a non-stop barrage of family and friends, literally from sunup to well past sundown. We could see my MIL getting physically and emotionally exhausted, but she did not want to stop talking about Tony, reminiscing, hugging and crying.
On Sunday afternoon, in pure sight (there were about 15 people in the house), she fell and hit her head on the desk in her room. She spent the next few hours in the ER, returning home with 12 stitches and a concussion. She was on concussion watch for the next week as we were planning the funeral. There was little to no sleep, as Ron, my sister-inlaw and I had constant watch on her. She was physically and emotionally spent...and scared. We all were. And then a colleague and friend suggested that we bring in a few Care Managers for some round the clock care so that we could take the tension down some. Oh my, what a difference that made! My MIL, instead of being admonished by us constantly to not do anything, no telephone, no tv, no walks to the kitchen, etc., was suddenly surrounded with happy, caring people who were excited to hear her stories about growing up in rural Georgia, about her days of owning her own hair salon, about moving to Philadelphia with six kids in tow, about her 11 brothers and one sister (all deceased), about shenanigans and adventures (some stories we had never heard - and some we had heard a thousand times). These angels helped her bathe and put on nice clothes, do her hair, make her bed. They laughed with her for hours. They supported her and encouraged her to move around, but just a little at a time. One went to the funeral with us. We were able to get a few hours sleep and be more supportive to Tony’s children and grandchildren. We all said we would not have made it without them. My MIL is stronger, back to her three sessions of physical therapy a week, going to the kitchen whenever she pleases, and watching non-stop MSNBC. (She can tell you more about the Mueller Report than all the rest of us put together!). Family were constantly asking where I found six such dedicated, loving, kind, and capable human beings on such short notice. One answer: They are Brandywine.