The Mabel Of My Life

Trying to figure out which of the hundred topics running through my head, that I should blog about.  So I think I will talk about Mabel.  I had opportunity to visit the mother of a friend of mine's with her yesterday.  She is living in an assisted care facility, and is being faced, as is the family, with some of the many challenging behaviors that go hand in hand with aging.  

Being there for those few moments in time, moved me back to my early 20's, when I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.  I had switched over from being a Physical Education Major to going for a dual degree in Psychology and Behavioral Science.  As I did my course work the Spring of my freshman year, we were each "assigned" an individual at a local nursing home, who was not adjusting to life in the nursing home.  My assignment was Mabel.

We were to assess them, come up with a 12 week treatment plan, and then set that in motion.  At the end of the quarter, our professor would assess how well we had accomplished our goals, and provide a grade for the class based on that.  As a student, I was an overachiever (no surprise there) and so off I went gung-ho... Never did I realize that while I would become a major catalyst in Mabel's life, she also would become one in mine.

Mabel's story was easy.  Married once upon a time, long ago divorced, mother of one child... She was an independent cuss.  She lived her life the way she saw fit, and was an intelligent smart business woman.  Two years prior to my meeting her, she had a severe stroke.  She was 84 years old at the time.  Feeling certain she would die, her son sold most of her belongings while she lingered in the hospital.  But she did not die.  Not only did she not die, she lived another 8 years in the facility at which I met her, and she became my friend.

She was not adjusting well, because she wanted her stuff.  But her stuff no longer existed.  And her son did not want to tell her this.  In the end, he did, after much cajoling... And her adjustment to her new life was able to begin.  Mabel aged the way I hope to age... While her body was not especially her friend, and she was wheelchair bound, her mind was sharp as a tack.  Dimentia was not something that even remotely touched her.  Sometimes, memory was not her friend, recent ones anyway, but boy could she tell the stories from the past!  

Eventually the class ended, but I continued to see Mabel 3 to 4 times a week until she died.  The nursing home eventually would cringe good naturally when I showed up, because no activity was off limits.  The number of times we went "four-wheeling in her wheelchair, and I had to go hose it down in the mop bucket room of mud, became countless.  She loved to be outside and on the go.  So I took her as many places as was safe and practical.

I would find myself sitting for hours near her chair or bed, and learned that human touch was something that most of the elderly crave, and do not get enough of.  She was so fragile... I swear I could see through her skin, but she loved to just have me hold her hand... Rub her arm... Or massage her feet!  This most basic of human needs does not dissipate with age.  And Mabel and I discussed this frequently as she had spent a great deal of her younger life in Europe and thought Americans overall to be an uptight group!

At Christmas I would decorate her door with treats that could be taken after a visit... This encouraged fly-bys from the other guests.  A few years we broke every code imaginable and strung lights everywhere.  The nurses and techs just pretended they did not see them.  Over time, I would work to come up with new and creative things to do with her room, because she became so bored with it all.  Some ideas were more successful than others.

And Mabel, she would dream about getting out.  While she knew death was really her only exit, she still dreamed of days of old.  Of freedom to come and go, of old friends - these were what kept her sane.  Over time, my visits with her changed from me helping her, to her helping me... She was a great listener and would always have some advice on whatever I was telling her... Sometimes, I knew the story had gotten too long, and I looked over, and she was asleep.  I'd just sit and hold her hand until she opened her eyes again!  

I came very close to choosing a career after my experiences with Mabel.  In the end, I went to the other side of the Spectrum, and worked with children.  But those many days that I spent with her, taught me so much about life, and growing old.  I thank her so much for those lessons that she taught me.  We should all be so lucky as to have a Mabel in our lives.