We provide Parkinson Care at Home in Delhi with our attendants who give your people medical care and support. We knew it would probably happen eventually, but we fought it every step of the way; for months my daughter. I was close to fully occupied with caring for her just about 24 hours a day. There was literally not one single activity of daily life – not ONE – that we weren’t just helping her with, but actually doing for her.

By the time the end point came she was barely mobile , totally incontinent, and largely lost in the shadowy, confusing world of dementia. We were exhausted, depressed, demoralized, and running out of options. The whole final situation developed with terrifying speed; on Friday she was having trouble standing even long enough for transfer to the wheelchair, and by Monday morning she couldn’t even maintain a sitting position. We called the ambulance, they kept her in the hospital overnight, and the next day we were informed that she had to be released but absolutely couldn’t come home – our only option was to get her into a skilled nursing facility by that evening.

Parkinson Disease Symptoms & Treatment in Delhi

Parkinson Disease Symptoms & Treatment in Delhi. There’s no denying that was quite an eye-opener, but I can’t pretend that it came as any surprise. My daughter and I had discussed this possibility knowing full well that advanced Parkinson’s is rarely if ever manageable at home. We had even gone so far as to look into cost – a significant factor for us, because my mother doesn’t qualify for any kind of financial assistance whatsoever. We live in a small town in a rural area, so our options were limited in the extreme. There are exactly two skilled nursing facilities that are close enough to make regular visits feasible, and frankly neither of them were ranked particularly high by Medicare … but we had to make a decision, so we did. By Tuesday night she had been admitted.

Parkinson Disease Symptoms & Treatment in Delhi initial intake was as a rehab patient (which I think is fairly standard for emergency-type admissions like hers). The idea, theoretically, was that she would get therapy there and though it was unlikely to ever make her fit to live at home again, it was supposed to at least help her regain some mobility.

Parkinson’s Care

Parkinson’s Care A great concept, but one that clearly wasn’t developed with a PWP in mind. Mom not only didn’t go along with the idea, she flatly refused it. By the end of the third week the therapy staff had signed her discharge papers because she simply wouldn’t cooperate. She was every bit as immobile and incapable as she was the day she got there, and the dementia that was a dark and brooding shadow at home had blossomed into a full-fledged, overwhelming presence that dominates every interaction with her.

She was convinced that her first roommate – another old lady very much like was part of a drug ring conspiracy and spent all of her time on her side of the room smoking pot. In addition, her roommate’s relatives were criminals who were likely to “put the finger on” anyone who displeased them, and if they did, “you’ve had it!” She was also sure that all of the staff “had it in for her”, and she got furious and semi-hysterical at the very idea that we would ever discuss her condition with anyone who worked there because if we did they’d be “out to get her”.

Benefits of a caretaker for the patients

When we went to visit (which we did every day for many weeks), sometimes she knew us and sometimes she didn’t, but she invariably had a long and surprising tale to tell. When it wasn’t strange delusions about her roommate it was bizarre hallucinations; sometimes she told us how a whole gang of teenagers came from a nearby garage and slept on the floor of her room every night, then got up and left in the morning. Sometimes it was about how she had driven to a nearby city where she showered in a field. Sometimes it was about how a work crew came in and completely redecorated and painted her room every night, and sometimes put it all back the way it was.

It’s actually all pretty funny when it’s written out like this, but at the time it was far from humorous. She was perpetually worked up and frantically agitated, and she obviously really believed even her most fantastic stories. Going to see her was a daily nightmare; she started bawling as soon as we walked in the door and generally worked herself into a quaking rage within minutes, ordering us to “get out! Just get out!”

Our specialized caregiver

I spoke to her care nurse about it repeatedly and she finally got the staff physician to order a low dose of tranquilizer on an “as needed” basis, which translated to “when family requested it” …. well meaning, I suppose, but basically useless because Mom was the LAST person on earth to be trusted to know that she wasn’t reacting normally, and I have to admit that I was hesitant to call there every day and ask that they give her a tranquilizer because we were on our way out and couldn’t face another session of terror and rage.

To make a long story short, that solution was so unacceptable that I kept escalating my inquiries until someone suggested that a psychiatrist could order an antipsychotic. There ya go. Within a week she was on a low daily dose of Seroquel and though she’s far, FAR from rational at least she’s rarely hysterically agitated. In this situation, that qualifies as a win.