It’s coming to us all
Yesterday I went to see my father’s GP – as it were, behind his back – but in fact by arrangement and taking with me a letter I’d drafted (signed by him) stating that he gave me authority to speak with doctors and similar about his confidential medical information as and where necessary. As, I had decided, it was – necessary, I mean – on this occasion.
One thing you learn either the hard or the easy way when your family contains an aged relative is a fundamental truth of human existence (and there are a few) which sometimes some people find difficult to confront, accept and/or deal with.
Like death, wills, serious illnesses and the process of just growing older … which of course every one of us does, every day.
Until one day we don’t.
It dawned upon me only a few weeks ago – or rather, really dawned upon me, because when your parent is on the north side of 90 it is patently obvious to everyone that he’s getting on – that everyone in the medical professions, including doctors, surgeons, nurses, physios and carers when it comes to it, are ‘assisting’ with the process of the decline of a human being’s life.
When some issue or another arises, as they always do, (with a few exceptions) the number of them which can be ‘cured’ or defeated gradually decreases and the number for which the professionals are simply there to assist, support and help the individual ‘cope with’ gradually increases.
Because, when your hands begin to get arthritic, or your hearing or sight begin to go, or your legs begin not to work so well anymore … and a hundred other things begin dropping off or not working properly as they used to … ‘getting back to how you were’ is rarely on the agenda of possible outcomes.
Whether you do your best to stay fit and active, thereby the better or longer to fend off these infirmities or whether you relax (or give up) and just accept them as and when they alight upon you – and then get help from those around you to cope – is up to the individual.
That’s assuming they retain the mental capacity to ‘think around the situation’ and thereby make an informed choice, of course.
Some are ‘fighters’ and some are more inclined to be ‘accepters’. And that’s not a criticism of either. Sometimes those who are ‘fighters’ may have a tougher time of things because – as night follows day – when push comes to shove, they are not going to win, they cannot ‘win’ … they’re going downhill anyway and there’s nothing they can do about it.
They can get resentful, frustrated, aggressive etc. at their predicament and – sadly – that’s probably not going to help them in the medium to long term either.
Whereas, arguably, those who relax and just accept the vicissitudes of old age are going to have a quieter and less stressful time of it. They’ll probably be willing to accept help and assistance earlier and therefore have less of a complicated and troubled dotage.
Returning to my topic of the day, that’s how I ended up going to see my father’s GP yesterday – as I said, behind his back.
I wished to see the doctor and discuss with him aspects of my father’s health that he – my father – might not know that I was concerned about. one of them was ‘DNR’ (or ‘Do Not Resuscitate’) which subject had never been raised – and therefore probably needed to be – with my father, and another was potentially getting my father tested on some standard industry ‘cognitive test’ scale so that (all of us had), if you like, a ‘starter for ten’ as to where he was regarding any mental decline. And in the future therefore could monitor over time how much he might have declined – if at all – compared to the results in that ‘original’ test.
All of the above – of course – broadly-speaking bang slap straight in the folder headed ‘Difficult Issues’ that I referred to earlier.
The positive and heartening aspect of my experience – as a consumer, or rather as a member of a consumer’s family – in a general sense was that the Clinic’s reception desk people, and indeed the doctor, were all as helpful and supportive as I could have ever hoped.
They’d probably come across the situation previous on tens of occasions. Family member is worried about older relative and needs to tread the minefield of ‘talking to a doctor behind his or her back’.
It’s almost as if there’s an informal ‘team’ being set up to deal with the aged person’s needs as they decline. Plainly, we all need to be on the same page. To achieve that, we need to set up a structure whereby everybody in the team gets told everything that everyone else knows or has come across. The better so that we can all deal with it as a team.
The oddest thing about the whole experience yesterday was a two-minute video that played on the wall in the waiting room before I was called to go and see the doctor.
It was on the subject of dementia and produced by one of the dementia charities – possibly the Alzheimer’s Society or Alzheimer’s Research UK. I cannot remember which.
But it listed the classic symptoms of someone beginning down to road to dementia-suffering.
Do you suffer from occasional memory loss?
Do you sometimes get confused when making arrangements?
Do others tell you that you’re getting forgetful?
Do you sometimes get irritated and frustrated when you cannot find things?
Do you suffer from mood swings?
[That is only about half of those that appeared on the screen … there were at least ten in total].
My point today was/is that yesterday – as I sat in the waiting room yesterday looking up at the television screen on the wall – I gave myself an informal test and reckoned I suffered from every single of those ten or so listed symptoms!
