At Home at Winter Growth

 

It's been a while since we checked in with Mom here at The Complaint Department.

I was up to see her, as usual, last Saturday, after missing the week before due to Hurricane Irene.  We stopped by the bank to get her a little walking-around money, went out to lunch and took a drive.  Upon returning to Winter Growth (formerly referred to here as Antique Village), I took a few shots of the place where Mom lives.

Let's start at her bedroom.

When Mom first moved into Winter Growth over 3.5 years ago, I was a basket case.  I struggled with guilt, sadness and worry, although she had reached a point where continuing to live alone was out of the question.  Even though Mom's outward appearance looked (and still looks) completely normal, she struggled with memory loss and cognitive difficulties (which have steadily increased over time).  While her physical health remains quite good, she does have a diagnosis of probable Alzheimer's Disease.

Concerned that Mom would not be able to find her way around Winter Growth in those early days, I painted and decorated some six-inch, cardboard letters I found at Michael's, which I attached to the door of her room.  See my signature initials?

While Winter Growth has a large number of people who come in for the wonderful day program, there are only about a dozen or so residents who live there full time, giving the place a cozy dormitory or group-home feel.  Each resident has a good-sized bedroom, but the bathrooms are shared (there are a lot of them, and Mom has one right outside her room), as are the communal areas--TV room, sunroom, library areas, garden.  It was hard to photograph the entirety of Mom's room, but it accommodates a twin bed, chest of drawers, writing desk, easy chair and a few small tables and lamps.

Although Winter Growth provides furniture for their residents, if desired, the things in Mom's room are her own belongings--and many of those things she's lived with for over half a century.  It was meaningful for both of us for Mom to be among her own things.  Before Mom moved in, her room was freshly painted and cleaned, and it was in great condition when Tony and I were ready to take her things over.

In addition, her room has a very nice bay window with a wide ledge for pictures, ornaments and clutter.  Maybe you can see that Mom is quite the clutter-bug.  Even though she no longer reads, she has stacks of books.  There are used tissues and cups about, geegaws representing her winnings from bingo games and a variety of other stuff.  I try to do a little de-cluttering each time I visit.

Out in the hallways and common areas there is a variety of bulletin boards that the Winter Growth staff do a wonderful job of designing and changing often.

Mom's birthday will be acknowledged next month, in October, when she turns 88!

Mom loves animals and small children, so she's enjoyed these most recent boards a lot.  They've helped her remember the beloved pets of her past.

There are plants everywhere!  Here is the longest-lasting poinsettia in history, which has been around since Mom moved in, I think.  If the staff can keep a poinsettia going this long, I don't worry too much about the care that Mom receives at Winter Growth.

In the center of all the bedrooms, common areas, offices and activity rooms is a garden/outdoor-sitting area, with a tranquil koi pond in one corner.  Animals feature largely at Winter Growth, with regular visits from volunteer dogs, the presence of pets of staff members, an indoor fish tank and a rabbit.  One former resident even brought her aged cat to live with her there.  It is exactly this kind of open-door policy and flexibility that makes Winter Growth such a special place.

The wonderful, outdoor area simply comes alive in the spring and is used well into the late autumn.

Each morning, Monday through Saturday, the day-program people arrive by special Winter Growth buses or with family members.  They come through the front door, where staff members greet everybody, assist them with their coats (if it's fall/winter) and locate their name badges.

A weekly schedule of special events is nearby.

The many day-program attendees and residents are divided into groups and circulate through several different activities throughout the course of the day.  Some of the folks require a little less activity and commotion, and they are assisted and cared for in more peaceful surroundings.  Morning and afternoon snacks are provided every day, as well as lunch, and medication needs are handled by certified individuals, under the direction of registered nurses.  Of course, as a resident, Mom receives breakfast and dinner, too, as well as an evening snack.  I also keep her stocked with her latest addiction--Baby Ruth candy bars--which she keeps hidden away in a drawer.

For 18 months before Mom moved into Winter Growth, she attended the day program two or three times each week.  Her familiarity with Winter Growth eased the transition when she decided to make Winter Growth her home.

Still, anyone with elderly parents, who's recognized that a change in lifestyle has become necessary, knows that the adjustment to a new environment and routine can be full of pitfalls.  It was no different with my own mother.

In addition to the fact that Mom already felt comfortable and at-home with Winter Growth, we agreed, when Mom finally made the transition to becoming a resident, that we would try it out for three months.  If, at the end of three months, Mom was unhappy living there, we would look at other alternatives.  We even wrote the date--when we would review and discuss her thoughts about the matter--on her calendar.

At the end of the trial period, Mom was happy to sign on permanently as a Winter Growth resident.

Living at Winter Growth has provided Mom with activities, companionship, and a sense of belonging--all so important to combat the isolation that can be experienced by some of the elderly.  Mom has an outgoing personality, loves to joke and tell stories about her past and enjoys engaging with anyone who will listen.  Needless to say, those characteristics helped to make her adjustment to Winter Growth that much easier.

Mom is the star, the headliner, the Big Show!

Me?  I'm the back-stage support.  And having Winter Growth in MY life has made my job easier on so many levels.  It's like having a whole staff of people assisting me in my job to make sure Mom is safe and happy.

Mom gets good meals and snacks, so I don't have to worry about her using a stove or subsisting on donuts and sandwich meat anymore.  Or consuming alcohol.

Mom's medications are managed, so I don't have to worry about her not taking them, taking too many, running out, refilling, calling to remind her, fighting with her about them, coming up with new, but never successful, reminder arrangements.

Mom gets help while bathing, so no worries (or many fewer) about falls.  Also, no worries that she's not even taking baths and not keeping clean.

Mom's laundry gets washed, dried and put away.  No worries about Mom going over the stairs at home to do this and no worries about Mom wearing the same clothes for days and days on end.

Mom's doctor makes house calls at Winter Growth.  Need I say more?

Mom has immediately-available help 24/7, if she needs it.

Mom lives across the street from a large, regional hospital.

Mom has a number of committed and caring people seeing to her needs at all times.  They pay attention to everything, like, for example, the fact that Mom was unable to recognize her long-time doctor when he came to see her at the end of August.

I'll just close with this sentiment, repeated by Mom many times:

"Winter Growth.  That name just makes me laugh.  It's the winter of your life, and they're trying to grow you!"

Thanks for stopping by!

 

 

 

Comments

[Pam Jones]

What a wonderful, misty-eyed-inducing post. Everything looks so beautiful, and your list of non-complaints ("Mom has immediately-available help 24/7, if she needs it.") is so ironic given the newish title of your blog. I've said it before: you are a great daughter and caregiver!

The name "plate" -- actually let's call it what it is: art -- on her door is especially sweet.

Rhetorical question: I wonder if it would be too transparent if I asked both of my kids to read this post?

[Margaret]

This sounds like a fabulous home, in the true sense of the word. Your photos enhance and reinforce your words, my dear. Your mother is very fortunate to live is such a place. By the way, do you know how long I can keep a poinsettia alive? Approximately one week.

[Karenth49]

I appreciate what a labor-intensive post this is! I expected to find a water-logged diary of this water/rain/flood intense week in your region. In DC since Tuesday, so I know from rain. Our week ended at 3pm Fri., sky turned blue at 2pm. Aside from work, all touring has been in rain, day or night. Tonight's restaurant made up for all of it, though. Bistro Bis, 15 E St.
Though you've had your share of Mom difficulties, your post is proof that with great effort and much luck, winter growth IS possible. I'll try to remember that.