Over lunch the other day, a dear friend was talking about the fact that she has been caring for her mother since her dementia diagnosis 14 years ago. She shared key points in her journey, like when she moved her mother into residential care, and how now, many years later, her mother no longer recognizes her.

In her role, she does extensive public education on care for seniors. She told me that, in talking with another speaker she’ll be joining on a panel, she came to a remarkable realization. She was sharing with him some details of her mother’s journey and the grief she is feeling as she continues to watch her mother slowly die.

He reflected back to her that it must be difficult witnessing her mother’s decline and asked her what she was doing to support herself.

I have just returned from time in New Hampshire caring for my mom.

In overwhelming pain, my mother became violently ill. My sister called 911, and Mom was transported to the hospital. 

The diagnoses came fast and furious - gout in her affected hand, aspiration pneumonia, and orthostatic hypotension, which is a sudden drop in blood pressure leading to dizziness and fainting.

In one week’s time, she moved to a skilled nursing facility to regain strength and continue to recover. After four days there, she achieved a level of recovery and stability, where she no longer required specialized care and was discharged.

Emma Heming Willis, wife of Bruce Willis, recently posted on Instagram a compassionate statement about the learning that can come from the tragic passing of Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa.

She noted, “Mr. and Mrs. Hackman’s’ passing made me think of the broader story, that caregivers need care too. That they are vital, and it is so important to show up for them so they can continue to show up for their person”.

Many of you may know that Ms. Willis transitioned to the role of caregiver for her husband, actor Bruce Willis, after he was diagnosed with aphasia and then frontotemporal dementia (FTD).

Her message is an important reminder of the invaluable role family caregivers play in the health and well-being of their loved ones who may be aging, ill, or dealing with a disability.

For the last couple of weeks, Senior Concerns’ Adult Day participants have had been treated to two special guests. Their names are Romeo and Ziggy, and both are wonderful visitors – kind, friendly, affectionate and they seem to really enjoy their time at the center. What may be a bit out of the ordinary is that Romeo and Ziggy are miniature horses.

Given a moment or two of social interaction with these visitors, the participants brighten and become more outgoing. Romeo and Ziggy have that special effect on those around them.

One participant, as she petted Ziggy, broke out in an ear-to-ear smile as she reminisced about her time around horses as a child.

My friend Ronnie and her sister just signed their mom up for a personal emergency alert system. It’s the kind that hangs around your neck and will signal the company if you press the button.

An emergency dispatcher will respond and attempt to talk to you to see if you pushed the button in error and are OK, or if you need help. If you do not answer, the dispatcher will assess the situation and call an emergency contact that is best suited to your circumstances. Sometimes the dispatcher needs to call your second contact in case the first one cannot be reached.

Ronnie’s mother is in her nineties and lives alone at her home in Michigan. Ronnie’s sister lives near her mother and is the first point of contact for the emergency alert folks. Ronnie lives here in California and is on the list as the second contact as a fallback position.

My husband and I have established roles in our daily lives. I am the shopper, the cook, and the social secretary. My husband is the accountant, the contract reader, and the sprinkler repair man. Our roles have been established and reinforced over 33 years of marriage.

I can’t imagine my husband taking over my roles (we would clearly starve) and I can’t imagine taking over his, but that is exactly what my friend Marty has done for his wife Debbie.

Debbie first showed signs of cognitive changes and decline five years ago. After that first year. Debbie had testing and brain scans done, which caused them to then seek out a neurologist. Then the diagnosis came, Alzheimer’s disease.

It was no surprise really, as Debbie’s mother and three older sisters also had Alzheimer's.

A few months back a friend told me she was not feeling well and was trying to find an at-home rapid COVID test. She needed the test because in a few days it would be her turn to care for her mother, who has mild cognitive impairment.

I offered to go find her a test and drop it off at her home, and after checking a dozen pharmacies, I finally found one.

My local pharmacy told me they had over 1,000 units come in the day before and they were gone within hours. The clerk said she wished the store’s policy would put limits on the number of tests people could buy, as some people were buying dozens. This, of course, made it difficult for me to find one for my friend.

Besides causing lack of availability, stockpiling tests is not recommended because most tests right now have a fairly short expiration date.

Barbara’s parents, like many seniors in their 80s, are trying to keep from contracting COVID-19 by isolating at home.

To keep fed, they signed up for the governor’s Great Plates program, which delivers two restaurant-quality meals per day; other groceries are ordered online by their daughter.

In normal times, Barbara, who lives two hours away, would visit weekly. Now she uses the phone to connect.

Over the past several months, she has become increasingly worried about her mother’s health and well-being. On a recent phone call, her mother related a story about her arthritis flaring up.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said again and again. Barbara must have heard that phrase over 20 times in the span of a few minutes.

My friend, let’s call him Alfred, who is in his 70s, has been trying to devise a system to alert his close contacts if something were to happen to him while he’s at home.

He’s sensitive to the topic because his former girlfriend died in her home and it took over 48 hours for her body to be found. It pains Alfred to think of her having died and not being discovered for such a long time. She had a dog, and the poor animal was without food, water or his master for two days.

Alfred has a beloved canine companion, too, that he wants to be sure is fed and cared for if he becomes incapacitated and cannot call for help. He has an Apple Watch, which has a built-in electrical heart sensor, as well as fall detection and an emergency SOS—one piece of technology to help him in case he falls or his heart begins to fail.

If you live an hour or more away from a loved one who needs your care, you’re a long-distance caregiver.

Based upon the needs of the care receiver, as well as the skills, abilities and limitations of the caregiver, every long-distance caregiving experience is different.

I’ve been a long-distance caregiver on two occasions, each with its own set of responsibilities.

In the first instance, my mother and sister were the hands-on caregivers for my father, and since I was 3,000 miles away, I took on the role of long-distance caregiver.