I Need the Wisdom of Solomon!

"Never deprive someone of hope; it might be all they have." These wise words - that I first encountered during my teaching career (in Life's Little Instruction Book by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.) - changed the way I approached students in my class. Whenever they had poor grades, I tried to give them a dose of hope together with  the "bad news." (This did backfire on me once - when one student thought my encouraging comments indicated his final mark would be an A.)

I am again faced with a situation where I don't want to deprive someone of hope - but I don't want to mislead or lie either.

A few weeks ago, the care team at my mother's assisted-living residence asked me to come in for a "family meeting." After telling me how well my mother was doing, though her memory isn't what it used to be - they pointed out that she would, sooner or later, need more nursing care. Even with her walker, she recently lost her balance a few times. Plans should be in place for that next step... whenever the need arises. She could seriously injure herself and suddenly be wheelchair-bound.

So I have begun the process of getting her on a "waiting list" for a nursing home in my neighborhood. (I'm told that the process can take months...)

Should I tell her? I ask Terry, knowing that she will be upset if she is forced to do something she doesn't want to do. At 92, she has not lost her stubborn independence.

Let the medical professionals give her medical news, he replies. Stay out of it.

I mention my dilemma to a young nurse at church who recently completed her masters degree in geriatrics.

Unless dementia is a factor, I think honesty is always the best policy, she replies... I had to give my grandparents some bad news. I prefaced it by saying, "You're not going to like to hear this, but..."

(So she would recommend being honest with my mother? But then, she is a medical professional...)

Would any mention of her getting worse devoid her of hope? I wonder... She fully expects her walking to improve, viewing her walker as a "temporary" inconvenience, something she has to use until she can walk normally again. Every time I call her to ask her how she is doing, she tells me - with great astonishment - that her arthritic pain hasn't gone away yet...

To be honest? Or to move ahead without telling her what I am doing?

After a lot of thought, I've decided to err on the side of hope. Nobody really knows how long she'll be able to manage on her own with her walker. When the time comes that she can't walk alone, I hope she'll accept that, too. In the meantime, I'll move along with the assessment process without telling her. As I struggle along, each new decision requires the "wisdom of Solomon*" to guide me!

*Solomon, the king who shrewdly determined the real mother of a newborn claimed by two young women, way back before DNA testing. (The "wisest man in the world.")