Realms of possibility

Does this woman belong in an aged-care home? I don’t think so, writes Amanda Ducker

Before the pandemic hit, Mum flirted with the idea of moving to a retirement village one day if she were too pooped to run her own show.

My heart plummeted at the prospect of her living in anything resembling a generic aged-care facility, but her pragmatism relieved me.

The plan is off the cards now and we feel gleeful, free and true to ourselves.

After watching the COVID-19 nightmare unfold for fatally infected elderly people who not only died from the virus, but died breathless and alone in aged care, Mum and I have veered away from that option.

Imagine a getaway car being driven maniacally fast in reverse and that’s us trying to make out we were never even on that road.

Unless she degenerates into full-blown dementia or something else unmanageable at home, we’re parking that plan with the walking frames and the drug cabinet where Dad’s residential aged carers kept the tranquiller they administered to stop his demented glancing blows at shower time.

Mum is staying put. At her house with no steps. If that gets too hard, I suppose she will come to us, so long as she promises to keep the volume on her radio down when Macca comes on.

I owe her no less, but I can’t hack Australia All Over, a show I detest mostly because she plays it so loudly.

Saying that, I suppose we both hope she’ll make it right through to the other side at her own home, in her own realm, with her autonomy intact and her radio dial set wherever she damn well pleases.

At 77, she’s a bit longer in the tooth than here, but Meg Ducker wants to avoid a future in an aged-care residence, preferring to rely on Home Care Packages and her family if she possibly can to stay in her own realm.

“The best thing to do [in a pandemic] is to be at home and have a granddaughter do your shopping for you,” Mum said yesterday, perhaps a smidgen smugly.

Yes, my tribe of daughters is already in training. The girls are practising on their grandmother and I expect their sons and daughters to shop for me one day.

Ripe avocados will be among my more pesky requests. I might even say “Don’t bother coming unless you find some”, because even though my grandchildren are not yet born they will know when I am joking, because humour like so much else runs in families.

“Terrible,” Mum said in her emphatic way of the emotional toll of the pandemic on families.

“It must have been desperate for some families [during extended aged care lockdowns], yet all of these restrictions are justified.”

As well being pragmatic, Mum is also sensible and she knows it’s sensible to stay home for as long as she can.

She is going to need help with the cleaning, though, for starters.

How can I put this? My mother is not a minimalist. Bit of a bower bird, you might say. Her styling MO is Margaret Olley all over.

She’s more interested in making us food, making us laugh, talking on the telephone, knitting, sewing, gardening, reading and op-shopping than cleaning. We love this about her, but let’s not pretend her home is a low-maintenance proposition.

More importantly, let’s not pretend my mother’s life would be better in a stripped-back flat where there’s nothing to trip over, nothing to do and no solace to be found in a lifetime of collected objects all imbued with memories.

Late painter Margaret Olley’s home appears to have influenced mother’s styling aesthetic.

For my mum and for yours, let’s ask the Federal Government to hurry up in delivering our seniors Home Care Packages (HCP). This wonderful program helps older people remain in place for much longer.

Peak body Leading Age Services Australia this week renewed its call for the Government to reduce a staggering 102,000-person queue for Home Care Packages that have already been approved.

“Continuing to live in their own homes is the top preference for most older Australians,” LASA chief executive Sean Rooney said. “The published wait times are grim – accessing the three top-level packages is still over a year and there are reports of much longer waits, of over two years.

“Demand is constantly growing - and will continue to grow.”

Three weeks ago, Mum woke up more than a bit bilious. She felt shocking. Was it a stroke? Her heart? Some other terrible night visitation? What could make her so dizzy that she struggled to stand?

When, at Accident and Emergency in the Royal Hobart Hospital, staff took her away through those swinging doors, it hurled me back into my lockdown nightmare, the one where we are smashing our way in to Mum, who is being held hostage by a privatised nursing home that is feeding her gruel and failing to update us on her illness.

It turns out Mum had vertigo. They jiggled some crystals in her ears and she was healed. Miraculous.

Ever since, I’ve been bombarding her with any Home Care Packages information that comes my way – even after she told me the truth yesterday.

“My real reason for pulling back was I kept thinking how difficult it would be to get rid of enough stuff to move into a much smaller space,” she said.

“I’d rather stay home and just let my daughter deal with it all after I die.”

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