How It Went

We had our big meeting at Springfield on Friday.  My mother, me, Walt and Ed. 

I had talked with her twice the day before about it.  I was going to have her look over some paperwork before we left on Friday, but she reminded me that she had a hair appointment that day "but I'll be back by 10.  I always am," she said.  Our appointment was for 11 and it is about a 20 minute drive.   Should work out fine, though no chance to look over paperwork.

On Friday morning she called to say "Hey, Bev, are you coming down here for something today?"  I said that yes I was. "What is it?   A doctor's appointment?"  We went over it all again that we would be going to Springfield.  "Shall I take you out to lunch afterwards," and I explained again that we would be having lunch at Springfield.

Walt said he would come with me this time and we left here at 9:45 and got to my mother's right at 10.  She wasn't there.  I called her hairdresser who said that she had just gone under the dryer and would be finished in an hour.

I called Scott at Springfield and told him about the delay.  He was very patient and said not to worry.

When my mother came home, she invited everyone to sit down and said she would get us all coffee.  Sigh.  I told her we had to leave, like now.   

We got there and met Scott who set us up for lunch and then went off to meet with another family.  Lunch was again very nice (they have the best onion rings!).  

After lunch, we met in a private dining room (because there were so many of us) with Julie, the nurse who does the intake evaluations.  My mother passed with not quite flying colors (her memory deficits were clear), but Julie said that was no problem and felt that she would fit in quite nicely at Springfield.

As we walked through the dining room, I noticed a table where four women were sitting and chatting and laughing and thought to myself that this was exactly what my mother needs.

Next Scott showed us 3 apartments, the deluxe studio that he had shown us before (but Ed and Walt had not seen), a studio that is currently vacant, and the 1 bedroom that my mother currently has on hold.  She likes the 1 bedroom best, despite the extra cost.

This is the small patio she will have outside her door, which goes out to the parking lot, if she moves here.  She's such a busy body, I think she'd love sitting at the window and keeping track of the comings and goings of her neighbors!

Then we met with Tony, the general manager, with whom I am still not very impressed.  He seems to be more intent on talking the company policy than actually listening to what people are asking him, but he did give us what we needed to know, which was the figures of how much it is going to cost her to live there.   We had decided over lunch that we would not sign the contract that day, but would take the figures, meet on Sunday and go over what her financial situation is, and if we decided this was a good thing, I would take her up on Monday to sign the contract.

After my mother and Ed left, Walt and I visited the other facility, which is right behind Springfield.  It costs quite a bit less than Springfield, but neither of us liked it.  It had the feel of an "old folks home," which Springfield does not.  There were people sitting around, slumped in chairs outside and not talking at all.  The girl at the desk (the only "staff" person we saw) didn't seem to know much about the place other than "I think this is a nice place."  And the biggest thing was that they don't have Assisted Living.  I feel that sooner or later my mother is going to need some degree of that (even if only help with her medications) and at Springfield it is already part of the program...as is a memory assistance program to help people with their memory.

When Walt and I got home there was an e-mail from Ed, who had gone over my mother's finances and discovered that she didn't have as much as she thought she would have, though unless she lives past 100, it should be enough to keep her at Springfield.  We will go over all the figures tomorrow and decide if this is do-able.   I hope it is because I've already bonded with the place!  (Heck, the youngest admission age is 62...I could move in and be her neighbor!)