Touring Assisted Living...Again

I know that the day will come that I'll look back on these days as the good old days. But even the good old days have their challenges.


When the doctors diagnosed dementia in both mom and dad, the rest of us began to push mom and dad into a commitment to move into the assisted living portion of the facility where they reside.


Prior to that, we kids had already toured it and were pleased with what we saw. And, on the day I broke my wrist, everyone but me went on a tour of the facility with mom and dad present. Word is that they loved it too.


So, after the diagnosis, we told mom and dad that the time had come for them to become serious about the move and they asked if they could at least see it first.


Harrumph.


We asked if they remembered going through it only a few weeks earlier and mom admitted that she did remember that a little. Dad said that he didn't even know what we were talking about.


So, we scheduled another tour with the saint of a woman who was willing to take a chunk out of her Sunday afternoon to give the tour again. She even arranged with a current resident to show us a unit of the type we would like to get for them--with a larger bedroom, so dad can do his "job" of looking through old bills and bank statements he has kept over the years.


The facility is very nice and the staff is pleasant and accommodating. Mom and dad are guaranteed the ability to be placed in assisted living there but will have to demonstrate the ability to pay for care for a period of time in order to be placed in the type of unit we want for them. They, of course, can't fill out the application, which is fairly complex. So, we are working on that now.


Oh. When dad saw the brace on my wrist, he asked what I did to my arm, for about the twentieth time. I know that some day he won't even be able to form coherent sentences so I'll take that as a plus.