‘I just hope Mom remembers me when I can hold her hand again’ | Opinion

The other day, my mother called me three times within a few hours.

“When are you coming to get me?” she asked.

“Mom, I can’t. You are in quarantine. Remember?”

A few hours later she called again.

“Mom, I can’t. I’m working today. Remember?”

And again.

“Mom, I can’t. I can’t take care of you by myself. And if I pull you out, you can’t go back in. Understand?”

I worry that even as the state has ordered “the most vulnerable among us” into quarantine for their protection, the isolation is putting my mother, who has dementia, in a much worse place: When this is over, she may not remember me.

She has said she would rather be dead.

Most of what we read in the newspaper or hear on broadcasts about the “vulnerable” residents of progressive or assisted-living facilities and nursing homes focuses on protection or criticizes the care for those in need of protection.

My mother is receiving good care. I know because I see her through her window every day. I know the staff — the understaffed staff — is working hard to keep residents well and uplifted.

But the staff is exhausted. And with each passing day in isolation my mom is less herself.

Since the quarantine began, she often forgets how to use her cell phone. She can’t figure out how to hang up the land line. She wants to use the TV remote like a phone.

And instead of watching Fox News as usual, somehow her TV is tuned to Bloomberg.

This is not my mother.

And she is not alone. One friend’s mom can’t remember what day it is. Another may call her daughter five times, maybe to tell her about a movie they should watch. But sometimes to weep because she feels trapped. In prison. And these women do not have dementia.

Yet we — the state and the patients’ families — are acting in their best interests.

The effort to reopen the economy has begun. Very soon the state must also consider what to do with our most vulnerable population. They can’t be isolated forever. The people who take care of them cannot continue the pace. Their families won’t endure it.

In my mother’s assisted-living facility there have been 10 positive tests for COVID-19 — six patients and four staff —all, as far as I know, asymptomatic, thank God.

Nevertheless, the toll the quarantine is taking is exacting. One nurse told me she is certain she will have to be treated for PTSD when this is over.

I’m sure the cognitive drift must be better than feeling trapped and alone. Yet it hurts watching my mom — who started down this long road a decade ago and has told us a thousand times she is ready for her next assignment — living in a new hell she didn’t ask for because of a novel virus.

Mom may survive this. But her mind is weaker. She is frailer. Like the rest of us, she won’t be the same.

I just hope she remembers who she is. And who we are.

Jeff Stidham is an attorney in Bartow, Florida.

This story was originally published May 8, 2020 at 7:25 PM.