Home Alone – Safety

We are able to get away for about four days at a time. An aide comes in every other day, the neighbors check in every day and I call Dad every day that we are away. His medicines are pre-sorted by the pharmacy. His food is well stocked on designated shelves in the refrigerator and pantry. When we leave town there are two primary concerns, his list and safety. He makes a list of what he wants to accomplish while we are away. Patterns developed. Before each departure, he frequently asked for clarification of our return date.  I thought it was because he would miss us. I was naive. The reality was that he was scheduling his appointments within his window of freedom. I’ll share his list items in the next post, Home Alone II. Safety was our main concern and it took years to identify the many potential hazards. Early in the process, we took the advice of an occupational therapist and installed several safety bars in the bathroom, grip tape in the shower and a taller toilet. Many other needs were discovered when something went wrong. It was impossible to predict and stay ahead of the dangers. The cost of the lessons ranged from a few dollars to broken bones. Here are some of the highlights and short and long term solutions that allow us to spend some time away.

Temperature control: Dad couldn’t read the thermostat and when trying to illuminate the display increased the temperature to 99 degrees. The immediate solution was to call a neighbor for assistance. The long term solution was to purchase and install a smart thermostat. We can monitor and adjust it remotely via a smartphone app.

Lighting: Rather than turn the lights on as needed, Dad shuffled his way in the dark. We didn’t realize that he wasn’t turning on the lights until he tripped, fell over a chair and broke a rib, which he didn’t tell us about until days later. He was on a blood thinner. We fully embraced installing lighting solutions and attempted to prevent future mishaps. We set up lights on voice command, lights that worked by motion sensor, put a permanently lit led strip along a sliding glass door threshold, natural lights on the bedside tables, over his painting area and over his sofa. Let there be light!

Glass: Dad was strong. He opened jars for me, but a glass bottle of carrot juice got the better of him. I noticed the carrot juice was missing out of the fridge and asked him about it. He replied, “Well, there’s a story there.” At about that time I noticed a huge orange stain on front of his sofa. He said, “That plastic is really tough.” He had turned it upside down and knocked it on the floor a few times attempting to loosen the lid. It broke. Looking at his bare feet, I held my breath in controlled panic and asked, “Where is the bottle?” He said, “Right here” as he produced the jagged remnants.” Still not breathing, I told him that it was glass, not plastic and asked him to hand it to me. I called in reinforcements to get him out of the danger zone. He did not understand what the fuss was about. He had already cleaned up all of the “plastic” and thought the orange stain added character to the already Picasso-esque carpet. Just weeks earlier we replaced all of his drinking glasses with lookalike, non-breakables after an incident that was equally alarming that lead to a nasty cut on his finger.Now, glass bottles were no longer allowed. Glass shards were all over the carpet in front of his sofa. We were fortunate that the cost of this lesson was a bottle of carrot juice.

Telephone: Calling Dad everyday only helped if he answered or if he remembered to hang up the phone after each call. (His cordless phone doesn’t technically get “hung up” and this is a constant source of confusion.) We set up a wireless security camera that faces the wall until we rotate it remotely. Then, it captures his sofa and painting area, where he spends 90% of his time. When he doesn’t answer, we check in to see what he is up to. We can also speak to him through the device. “Hang up the phone!”  If he has his headphones on, listening to the tv, we can at least see that he is okay.

Stove: Dad liked to cook breakfast on Sundays, but had no patience for waiting, would put everything on the stove and walk away. Regularly, he burned potatoes and blew up eggs. Cleaning up egg splatter in the exhaust fan is exhausting. When we were living with him, I cooked his Sunday breakfast. When we were away he would not be persuaded to go without it. We almost purchased a stove/oven with a lock, but instead just flip the breaker before we leave.

Ladders and step stools: Dad knows that he shouldn’t get on ladders, so he does it when we aren’t there which makes perfect sense to him. I walked in and saw him on a 6 foot ladder trying to velcro one of his paintings to the ceiling. We hid the ladder and step ladders.

Candles: We don’t have candles in the house. Six years prior, Dad lit a table full candles and fell asleep. The condo was on fire and he was lucky to have survived. This was the reason we moved back earlier than planned from overseas. The first thing we did was to replace the remaining candles with LED simulated candles. 

Driving: When we went through the trauma of Dad transitioning to not driving (story here), there seemed to be endless car keys that would surface when we were gone. He promised that he wouldn’t drive and repeatedly drove. The last key to appear, before we put a club on the steering wheel, was in a metal magnetic box that he remembered that he had hidden under the car. The club finally put an end to this worry until he moved to genuine acceptance. 

Telemarketers: I always had one ear in his direction when he answered the phone. One afternoon, I stepped in and took over the call just after he verified his birth date and was about to give his social. I told him he was too trusting. He said, “Can you really be too trusting?” Scary! We subscribed to a service that disconnects the call when it senses it is a robocall. The phone will still ring once. At first Dad tried to get to those calls because he wanted to hear what he was missing. Over time he adjusted to waiting for the second ring. 

Medical Alert System: We have a great system. The medallion is waterproof, includes a GPS and has a fall sensor. Dad won’t wear it, but we have it…

I am sure that we will identify more ways to keep Dad safe, hopefully before he identifies them for us. Not everyone is able to get away for even a few days. I expect that our opportunities to get away will change and we will have to adjust our strategies accordingly.

Things to consider as you plan your getaway:

• Who lives nearby who can help if there is a problem? Are they aware that you are leaving?
• Could a neighbor, friend or family member stop in while you are away?
• If something is even a small worry in the back of your mind, what could you do to lessen the concern?

What I know now:

• It is impossible to predict everything that can go wrong. I am easier on myself for not anticipating Dad’s every move.
• When Dad says he won’t do something, he may forget his promise or may mean that he won’t do it while I am present. He told me he crosses his fingers behind his back.
• There are more lessons to be learned and Dad will teach us in time. 

Navigating the Caregiver River: A Journey to Sustainable Caregiving is available on Amazon. Also, check out the Self-Caregiving Strategies Podcast.

Schedule Theresa Wilbanks to speak on caregiving and empower the caregivers in your workplace or community with the 12 Sustainable Caregiving Strategies.

Advice offered is for general information only; please contact your healthcare team, legal or financial advisors to guide your particular situation.