Our days were filled with trying to do things that Al loved, but Al’s illness was doing something else. He began to fall. The first time he fell was in the hallway. There were tiled floors and the furnace was right there.
When he fell he broke one of the tiles and knocked the front door of the furnace off. I was so scared he had injured himself but the only injury to him was fear. I helped him up…
Our days were filled with trying to do things that Al loved, but Al’s illness was doing something else. He began to fall. The first time he fell was in the hallway. There were tiled floors and the furnace was right there.
When he fell he broke one of the tiles and knocked the front door of the furnace off. I was so scared he had injured himself but the only injury to him was fear. I helped him up and then with assistance we made it to the couch.
I offered him a coke after checking him all over. No blood and no lumps. While he was drinking his pop I started talking to him about the fall and how he should begin to hang on to things as he walked.
I had our grandma’s old cane here and offered it to him but with his stubborn pride he refused it. We didn’t experience any falls for about another month and then they became more frequent.
The big fall came near Christmas Time. He was walking to his bedroom and suddenly, with no warning he fell straight into the Christmas tree. This time I was scared. His head was turned side ways against the wall. I could see his legs but our tree was big so he was buried underneath all the leaves.
I told him, ” Don’t be afraid bud, I am going to call 911 and have them help me get you out from under there. I am afraid I will hurt you if I try to move you alone.” He seemed alright with that.
I called 911 and they came and three EMT’s recovered him from the branches. They took his vitals. His blood pressure was up a little but they thought that was from the accident. They talked to them and filled out paper work and then left. I helped Al to lay down on his bed. I knew that he had enough for one day.
There was one other time that he had fallen. It was in his room and he was squeezed in between his bed and lift chair. I couldn’t get him up and I saw blood on his forehead. I called 911 again and they responded immediately.
Al was alright. They placed a small bandage on his forehead and filled out another report. All of us put him in bed so he could rest. I walked the EMT’s to the door and they stopped and told me something that scared the crap out of me.
They said that if they were called one more time they would have to by state law report this to the Adult Protective Services. I asked them why and they said, ” Your brother is mentally challenged, right?” I nodded yes. ” Anytime there are falls from someone like him we have to report it on the third fall.” I thanked them for their service and information and let them out.
Shutting the door after them I walked to the couch and sat and thought about how cool this was not. With the bad relationship between him and his dad, and now both parents were deceased, I was all Al had left. I was his guardian and sister. I couldn’t let anything happen that may take him away from me, but what could I do?
I mulled over this for days. Idea after idea came and went and then I knew that I needed more help with Al than what I could do myself. I also knew that I needed to protect him from being placed out of our home.
I began to call nursing homes. After finding one that seemed nice I set an appointment for them to come meet Al. I dreaded so badly telling Al, but when I did at supper that night, he shocked me.
You have to remember his mentality. At that time his intelligence was about 10 years old. He was very excited. He said, ” This is great. Look at all the new friends I will make and I can play Bingo.”
I almost wept inside at his innocence but smiled. If he had to end up going I wanted him to go with this attitude. No more falls happened within the next two days and when the door bell rang early Monday morning, I answered it and let in the staff from the Nursing Home.
They wanted to meet Al and then after their little chat Al returned to his room to watch his favorite TV programs. Considering the time of day he was probably going to watch the Price is Right show.
Many questions and answers is what I did for the next hour. By the time they stood up to leave an appointment was set to bring Al into the nursing home for a tour. Al seemed very excited. I, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Al not here with me? I don’t know if I can deal with this. I am his sister and no one will ever love him, understand him and care for him as well as I could, but I kept thinking about how he could be taken out of this house and I had to do what I had to do to protect my brother.
The day came and we were getting ready to go in the front doors of the nursing home. Staff was there to show us around. I stayed in the background while they showered Al with attention and showed him the highlights of the place.
After the tour was over they asked Al, ” Do you want to come live here with us?” Al nodded yes. My heart broke but the fear inside me was bigger. I signed all the paper work and two days later Al was living in his semi-private room at a local nursing home.
The calming medications helped a little with Al’s issues of being frustrated with the tremors. The Parkinson’s medications didn’t help at all. Each visit I took Al back to the doctor, different PD medications would be tried, but none worked.
The doctor kept him on them though. I really wasn’t happy with that. I have this thing about medications. If they don’t work, get rid of them. We dealt with…
The calming medications helped a little with Al’s issues of being frustrated with the tremors. The Parkinson’s medications didn’t help at all. Each visit I took Al back to the doctor, different PD medications would be tried, but none worked.
The doctor kept him on them though. I really wasn’t happy with that. I have this thing about medications. If they don’t work, get rid of them. We dealt with each day and I watched as his tremors progressed. Nothing else seemed to be happening in this illness.
Al continued to go to the adult day program and I tried to live as if nothing had changed. He went to this one outing where the clients all went to a discount mall. Afterwards they stopped to eat and when the bus driver brought him home he stayed long enough to let me know that Al had seemed pretty tired and had actually fallen asleep on the way home.
If you knew Al like I do you would know this wasn’t something he would ever do. Al was such a social butterfly. He would fight sleepy eyes in order not to miss talking to one person.
I told the driver thank-you for the information and when I went inside to ask Al if he had a good time he was already in bed with lights out. I wished him a good night’s sleep and didn’t mention what the driver had said.
The next morning seemed pretty normal. Al ate his breakfast but instead of watching the TV like he usually did on Saturday mornings he wanted to lay down and nap. I thought this is odd. Al never misses the Three Stooges.
After he got up he seemed back to normal. I asked him, ” Do you want to go to the flea market?” and he said yes. So we hopped in the car and drove the couple of miles. Al seemed happy. He smiled and talked to ever vendor. He found a couple of coca cola bottles and that seemed to make his day.
We didn’t have anymore issues for some time, but then things changed again. Al was having chest pains. I made another appointment at the heart doctor. After checking Al he decided Al needed to be hospitalized to check for blockages.
Al wasn’t crazy about this. He always commented, ” More needles?” He was getting used to being admitted I think. The test showed Al had more blood clots in his heart valves but the doctor said they were not big enough to remove. So along with this information and now knowing that he has Angina of the heart I was getting concerned for his health.
PD, heart issues, what was next? Al was a little more quiet when we arrived back home. He seemed a little more tired and slower in movement. When the following Monday arrived he wanted to go back to his Day Program so I took him.
When I picked him up a staff member asked me to come in so we could talk. Al stayed in the rec room and I went into the office. The director said, ” We all love Al here at Day Program. He is such a nice guy; but we have rules. Everyone that attends here must know his medications and what they do for them. All must know their address and telephone number. We are not a babysitter service. We are here to over see.”
I had tried many times to get Al to repeat his address and phone number but he never got it. I couldn’t understand why the Day Program felt it was important for the clients to know what medications he took and what they were for.
The Director explained, ” The clients that come here are,
Schizophrenia (/ˌskɪtsɵˈfrɛniə/ or /ˌskɪtsɵˈfriːniə/) is a mental disorder often characterized by abnormal social behavior and failure to recognize what is real. Common symptoms include false beliefs, auditory hallucinations, confused or unclear thinking, inactivity, and reduced social engagement and emotional expression. Diagnosis is based on observed behavior and the person’s reported experiences.
Clients with this diagnosis need to be aware of what they take and why so they can live a more productive life. Al does not have this diagnosis and we all voted for him to join us here since he is so nice. But now, he seems tired and he is starting to repeat himself. So we don’t have time to keep a better eye on him, so we must ask you to not bring him back anymore.”
I was devastated but I knew Al would be much more than that. Standing up to leave the director shook my hand and gave me his apologies and said, “We sure will miss him.”
I went in and found Al and said it was time to go home. I didn’t mention the conversation all the way home. He went to his room and turned on the TV and I went about starting supper.
During supper we were both quiet. Al didn’t talk much unless I started the conversation when it was just us. He never could mentally separate me from our dad. Al and dad didn’t get along at all. With dad not accepting Al for being someone other than the common word normal, there was much friction between the two all of Al’s life.
Dad was short-tempered with Al. He wanted him to be quick to move and answer like most people. There were barely conversations between the two that were ever looked at as social.
Al looked at dad as the boss. When I started caring for my brother, I had to guide and teach him many times and Al looked at me as the boss. He could never separate the two people.
This was Al and my biggest issues in our living together. It hurt me so bad that Al couldn’t see how much I loved him and wanted him to have fun and to be happy. Many, many times I would end up almost screaming at Al after a trying conversation that I was not dad, but me, Terry, his sister.
I would ask him, ” Do I look like dad?” He would begin to cry and say no. I would get frustrated and walk away. None of this changed until many months later.
Who I am 