Being the primary caregiver and living five hours away had its own set of frustrations. I usually woke thinking, always thinking about solving a problem for Mom. I would get the phone calls that would roll my stomach and I would remind myself, “Nothing happened.” And that was the truth.
Mom had wandered down the road about a kilometer to a local hotel. At that stage someone noticed her and she seemed confused so they called the police and they brought her home. Oh my word. That could be a cause for crisis intervention! For family meeting!! For locking Mom away!!! But, nothing happened. My Mom’s favorite saying was, “So long as you are alive, LIVE!“ I would clutch that saying to my heart like a mantra, wrap it around myself like a blanket whenever she wandered. If something bad did happen I would cry and howl and feel guilt down to my big toe BUT I had allowed Mom to live as opposed to being locked away and safe. And nothing bad happened.
I also did what I could do to mitigate the risk. The first step was to get her a medical bracelet with her name, phone number, and her condition was listed as Memory Loss. I had the chain changed to something very pretty and comfortable and Mom never minded wearing it. Mom lived in a small town so I also registered her with the local police. I made laminated wallet cards with her name, address and condition and stuck them in every pocket. We put a bell on the front door that would chime whenever it was opened and this could be switched to a full alarm at night.
I also researched more complex solutions like foot insoles with trackers and bracelets with trackers. Fortunately, Mom did not wander often. Statistically the likely hood of wandering is very high but most Alzheimer’s patients are moved towards the end of their lives and they are just trying to get back home. Leaving Mom in the home she had lived in for almost fifty years helped greatly. Oh sure, Mom at times did not remember her home and one time she looked at her husband of fifty years who was changing a light bulb and asked, “Do you work here?” It was one of my father’s better days so he kindly answered, “Yeah, sometimes.”
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